Five years ago, I was homeless in Humboldt County, Ca.,
and sleeping in the Garberville Cemetary with nothing
but a bedroll, backpack, a $10 radio, and my dog, Emily.
I woke up when the sun broke thru the fog and clouds
about 8AM, and I reached over to turn on the radio, like
I did every morning, to here the news that the World
Trade Center in New York had already collapsed. I thought
that it was a bad joke, but hurried to the bar a few blocks
away, where they had a bathroom, coffee, and a big screen TV.
New Yorkers in suits were walking out of Manhattan like
refugees, crowding the bridges that were meant for cars.
The towers had already fallen, and they were showing the
early footage of the buildings on fire, and reporting about
the Pentagon also being targeted...and I remember thinking
how inevitable this kind of attack on these kinds of targets
really was, as serious protest of America's foreign policy
in the World. I didn't feel anger, then or since,
that Americans had been targeted, but that the Government,
the military industrial complex, and the corrupt, corporate control
of the World's resources, the Heart and Belly of the Beast, had
been the targets of a very clear message...the inevitability of
'chickens coming home to roost'.