Much ink has been spilled over the last few weeks about Junior (“Take Them Out”) Hoffa’s death threat to those of the Republican persuasion. That it comes as a surprise to anyone that a union goon should talk like a union goon is as baffling to as it is unsurprising that President Obama, with his eloquent silence, condones Hoffa’s lethal orders to the rank-and-file. We live in a time in which man’s political nature, red in tooth and claw, reveals just how debased our culture has become.
In the sub-basement of our decline resides the New York Times‘s Paul Krugman, who has chosen the tenth anniversary of September 11 to add his voice to the many who have spoken out in memory and reflection of that terrible day:
The Years of Shame
Is it just me, or are the 9/11 commemorations oddly subdued?
Actually, I don’t think it’s me, and it’s not really that odd.
What happened after 9/11 — and I think even people on the right know this, whether they admit it or not — was deeply shameful. Te [sic] atrocity should have been a unifying event, but instead it became a wedge issue. Fake heroes like Bernie Kerik, Rudy Giuliani, and, yes, George W. Bush raced to cash in on the horror. And then the attack was used to justify an unrelated war the neocons wanted to fight, for all the wrong reasons.
A lot of other people behaved badly. How many of our professional pundits — people who should have understood very well what was happening — took the easy way out, turning a blind eye to the corruption and lending their support to the hijacking of the atrocity?
The memory of 9/11 has been irrevocably poisoned; it has become an occasion for shame. And in its heart, the nation knows it.
I’m not going to allow comments on this post, for obvious reasons.
Where I come from, week-long NPR special reports on a single topic, week-long programming on myriad broadcast and cable channels, and 21 (i.e., every single one) of the Huffington Post’s “Featured Blog Posts” hardly add up to a “subdued” recognition of September 11. Perhaps, however, in the dark reaches of societal decay where Krugman hangs his hat, news of these commemorations has yet to penetrate.
When Mayor Giuliani raced to Ground Zero and gave New Yorkers a glimmer of hope that their city would not be torn asunder, I sincerely doubt he was thinking about cash. When George Bush assured the recovery workers that he—and the world—heard them he was not working the crowd at a political fundraiser.
Whatever poison has tainted the memory of September 11 leaks from the pustules bubbling up from the caldera Krugman calls home. Safely ensconced in his cesspool, Krugman spews his bile, insulting his readers by claiming they “know” he speaks the truth—then with the courage of one who hides in the cover in darkness takes his final shot: “I’m not going to allow comments on this post, for obvious reasons.”
And this is where we live today. In a country that tolerates a president who thinks it’s OK to make death threats to US citizens. In a country that gives a platform to a writer who tells one lie after another then taunts readers for their lack of recourse.
Makes you proud to be an American, doesn’t it?