In case you missed it--which is entirely understandable if you've been orbiting Jupiter in a capsule that's incapable of receiving broadcasts of any sort--about a week ago, the United States finally got around to ridding the world of Osama bin Laden, terrorism's top ranking bogeyman and accomplished beard grower.
Admittedly, if this had made headlines back in 2003, I would have been far more excited. That's not to say it's not excellent news that bin Laden is no longer drawing breath, but it would have been nice if he hadn't had so many extra years to share the same air as the rest of us.
Oddly, the news of bin Laden's death was quickly overshadowed by our government's refusal to release images of the terror mastermind's corpse.
Now, I'm not some bloodthirsty moon-braying death hound or anything--honestly, I haven't brayed at the moon in years--but I have to say I would appreciate the opportunity to see the lifeless visage of the man who lived in so many people's nightmares for so long. After all, every 9/11 anniversary, I see repeated video of people jumping to their deaths from the World Trade Center towers and, quite frankly, it would help heal that visual wound a bit if it could be juxtaposed with that of bin Laden's tongue-lolling death portrait.
But hey, that's just me. Opinions will vary, even if they're flat out wrong.
Alas, instead of a death visual exclamation point, the government has opted to release a slew of videos detailing how Osama bin Laden lived his daily life pent up in a Pakistani "mansion," which by our standards resembles a double-wide trailer with a big yard and huge wall. Seeing the compound for the first time, I mused whether his closest associates referred to him as "Osama the Cable Guy."
What struck me most about the released videos was how much bin Laden resembled so many of the college acquaintances of my younger years, who would drop by and bum out on a couch for days on end, mooching whatever food was available and playing video games. These were characters who always built up spotty and petty police records and had zero ambition, yet they seemed to have no problem hooking up with ridiculously hot women. Those of us who actually paid rent would speak furtively of calling the cops on the moochers, but we'd hesitate because we didn't want to call unnecessary attention to our abode, such as it was.
So, there was Osama bin Laden, the terror moocher-in-chief, hunkered in front of a television (not even a flat screen), and reportedly sending out aides to replenish his supply of Pepsi and Coke. This was not the mastermind I'd associated with the Twin Towers thundering to the ground almost ten years ago. This was the guy who TP'd the dean's house that one time before dropping out of school and moving back into his parents' basement.
Almost seems like a waste of a perfectly good bullet, frankly.
I'd still like to see the death pictures though. I think Americans deserve that, at the very least.
Posted by Ryan at May 9, 2011 10:22 AM | TrackBack
Stumble It!
