Naturally I thought about being sentimental on this post, after all, it is one of the many September 11 anniversaries that we will have in this country. If I would have stuck with that natural thought of mine I would have posted the first picture, which I did end up posting, and then I would have written about what I remembered from that horrific day, such as: a girl I liked telling me she wanted nothing to do with me, my brother Burke telling me that I should join the armed forces because it would be B.A.D., my chickening out of the armed forces, my mom filling up the gas tank on my car because of the gas shortage scare that didn’t end up happening, but thanks anyway mom, the film my brother, Burke, made about September 11, an insane amount of soon to fade American pride, the five protesters on main street, and last but not least, the two towers falling. All of this went to make up a very crazy yet memorable time in my life. But I don’t want to post about that.
What I would like to post about, the real post mind you, is the second picture. While somewhat related to the first picture, only less visually stimulating, it reminds me strongly of my childhood, specifically my cartoon-watching years. For some reason I expect to see Wiley Coyote praying with these religious men after another failed attempt at bombing the ever-evasive Road Runner (beep beep). Someone should let these poor boys know that their building has fallen down around them, and that the door that is being reached for leads to a room that has only two walls left. The only thing that would make this picture complete would be to have some hippies dancing to the Macarena by the fully intact tomb.
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