Or maybe he should have called it the revenge of history. When we slough off something and then it comes back and shoots us in the foot, isn’t that revenge? Anyway, there is an excellent article at American Digest.
When I began to read I thought, “It’s not September…” But the article is incredible. Read it.
IN THE DAYS AFTER THE TOWERS FELL, in the ash that covered the Brooklyn street where I lived at that time, in the smoke that rose for months from that spot across the river, when rising up in the skyscraper I worked in, or riding deep beneath the river in the subway, or passing the thousand small shrines of puddled candle wax below the walls with the hundreds of photographs of “The Missing,” it was not too much to say that you could feel the doors of history open all about you.
Before those days, history happened elsewhere, elsewhen, to others. History did not happen to you. In your world, until that day, you lived in the time after history. There were no more doors in front of you, all history lay behind you. It was a given.
History did not happen to you.
That is one of the most insightful sentences I have read in years.