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Location: Work.
Listening: Yet more silence.

As Peter becomes more enraged with the situation, I am left with a curious lack of definite emotion. Thoughts are whirling, but I can express several fairly clearly:

1. We Knew This Was Coming.

I won't go into the details of it. I'll admit that I'm a conspiracy theorist at heart. I'll admit that I might be wrong. I'll say it's a sickening gut instinct that we either had all the information and were too stupid to link it together or we didn't take it seriously, having no idea how far it would go. Which would you rather? I'll move on.

2. I Am A Pacifist.

For some reason, this oftens stuns people who know me. I am a pacifist at heart. I believe that wars are the equivalent of playground slugfests that amount to about as much resolution. I do not condone the sacrifice of military and civilians in the name of any God or dollar amount. Fanatic patriotism frightens me as much as fanatic religion. I've always held that I would never support the US going to war for anything less than a direct assault on our home soil. Which is what this is--but with whom would we go to war? The particular terrorists who executed these actions? The entirety of whatever creed or nationality they claim to represent? Could it bring back those who lost their lives this morning? Could it make us feel invincible again? Would that be worth potentially losing more lives, more people with families and friends and pets who wait for them? I just don't know.

3. The Inability To Act Is The Most Difficult.

Of all of this, the sense of helplessness is proving the most insidious. I want to be in New York--I keep thinking that, if I were there, I could join the rescue effort, find the local Red Cross, cook or find blankets or fight fires or just try to calm people down. I could do something besides sitting here, reading the news on CNN, feeling completely useless.