Bryan Strawser

Blackfive writes today about how he watched the video of Kim Sun II begging for his life:

I watched Kim Sun-il scream that he doesn’t want to die. I watched him, frightened, alone, begging for his life. My stomach was in knots watching him. My throat dry, my fists clenched.

I watched because I want to remember. I want to remember Kim Sun-Il.

I’ve watched the videos of Nicholas Berg, Paul Johnson, and now Kim Sun II. I do it because I want to remember.

I remember, sitting in one of my stores, on September 11th watching the twin towers fall - the Pentagon attacked - and knowing that thousands had died.

I want to remember

We forget far too easily in this country. I wrote about this briefly on the second anniversary of September 11th when I quoted Bush’s speech on September 20th:

It is my hope that in the months and years ahead life will return almost to normal. We’ll go back to our lives and routines, and that is good.

Even grief recedes with time and grace.

But our resolve must not pass. Each of us will remember what happened that day and to whom it happened. We will remember the moment the news came, where we were and what we were doing.

Some will remember an image of a fire or story of rescue. Some will carry memories of a face and a voice gone forever.

And I will carry this. It is the police shield of a man named George Howard, who died at the World Trade Center trying to save others.

It was given to me by his mom, Arlene, as a proud memorial to her son. It is my reminder of lives that ended and a task that does not end.

I will not forget the wound to our country and those who inflicted it. I will not yield, I will not rest, I will not relent in waging this struggle for freedom and security for the American people.

I was so afraid of this after September 11th. I believe it’s hard sometimes for us to hold our resolve together - particularly when the going gets tough militarily. I’ve already seen the cracks in the foundation when talking with my parents - who, after all, are of the Vietnam generation and make that comparison frequently.

But the resolve won’t be there if people don’t take the time to remember what has happened to us.. and why… and it continues today with the deaths of Berg.. and Johnson..

And we cannot forget them…

Do I shell out money for Bill Clinton’s book or not.

Hmm.

I really don’t want to give that fucker any of my money. But I want to read his book.

I’ve long thought that The West Wing was one of the best shows on network television. It can almost compete with HBO’s Original Series like the Sopranos and Six Feet Under, but just almost.

The single best West Wing episode ever made is Two Cathedrals - the season finale of West Wing’s Second Season.

The closing segment of the episode, set to Dire Strait’s Brothers in Arms is an amazing combination of scenery, dialogue, music, and cinematography.

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Some day you’ll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you’ll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms

To this day, I believe that this man is the bravest man I have ever seen.

Freedom is not free.

I should point out that my support for Bush/Cheney 2004 was never in doubt - I just had to wait on the damn window stickers to arrive.

I put my Bush/Cheney 2004 sticker on my car today.

Decision made. Now on to other things.

Once again, Victor Davis Hanson sends me careening off into the caverns of deep thought with his latest National Review column:

If after four years of careful planning, al Qaedists hit the Olympics in August, the terrorists know better than we do that most Europeans will do nothing — but quickly point to the U.S. and scream “Iraq!” And they know that the upscale crowds in Athens are far more likely to boo a democratic America than they are a fascist Syria or theocratic Iran. Just watch.

If you’re not reading Dooce, well you’re just missing all of the fun in your life:

I hopped out of bed, two rock hard concrete traffic mounds on my chest and ran to my binky-less Wonderchild, attaching her to my boob before I even had her out of the crib. She could barely keep up with the flow, my boob a gushing fire hydrant that she was trying to stop with her mouth.

And there I go again talking about my boobs. GOD! To the person who sent me an email to tell me that all I talk about anymore are my boobs, and that all this talk about my boobs is alienating my core audience, SORRY CORE AUDIENCE! Would you prefer I talk about my ass? The STORIES I could tell you about my ass.