FRIDAY, September 11 will mark the 25th anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attack on the United States in 2001. Around this time every year, I find myself binge-watching videos about the event, and this is year is no exception; in fact, because it’s a milestone anniversary, I’ve been more purposeful about it.
On the actual day here, I will be moderating an energy roundtable hosted by The Manila Times, something that I have very much wanted to organize for several months. I will have a couple of minutes at the start of the event to make some remarks, and I considered making a comment about the 9/11 anniversary, even though it has absolutely nothing to do with the topics on the agenda. In years past, I would not have thought twice about acknowledging 9/11 if I found myself in a similar situation, because it was taken for granted that the horribly tragic event should be acknowledged.
This year, I will say nothing, except for what I am writing here.
The reason why is that, a quarter-century later, I now realize that it didn’t mean anything. It was a blip on the radar, a few notes in the vast discordant symphony of history. Humanity didn’t come together to make the world a better place, and to ensure that such horrors could never happen again. Or that we wouldn’t stupidly destroy the only ecosystem in the entire universe where we can survive, or stupidly destroy our own amazing intellect and imagination with brain-rotting technology, or make gods of those who are actively seeking to destroy all the rest of us who lack their divinity through the device of that curious religion called capitalism.
There are 2.06 billion more people in the world now than there were in 2001. An entire generation has been born and reached adulthood since 9/11. And the world that those of us who were present when it happened, and failed to learn any lessons from, is the only world they’ve known, or will ever know.
I will watch the videos. I will close my eyes and relive the day in my mind. My memories are important to me, and I want to keep them. But I am too old and too tired and have seen too much in the days and years since then to harbor any illusions that those memories have any real meaning, or that even a shred of the greater good that should have come out of that tragedy will ever be realized.
But beyond that, and this sad little note, I am not going to talk about it. Because in the end, it just didn’t fucking matter at all.
