It’s been eight years. Eight long years since a cowardly, despicable, unjust act of war was committed against our country. Some say that time heals wounds — but the wounds of September eleventh, the year 2001, run deep. What is considered the worst, most devastating day in America will not soon be forgotten. For generations to come, stories will be told of where we were, what were doing, and the thoughts racing through our minds; stories of the fallen will transpire throughout time as we figure out how to cope with that awful day.

In the days leading up to Friday, the eighth anniversary of those terrible attacks, life seemed to be going on as normal, but the solemnness of September eleventh was something that for another year — once more, we tried ever so hard to grasp in the palm of our hand.

I can vividly remember, as I’m sure you can, exactly where I was on that day. I was sitting in a classroom, in second grade, unaware of the situation. It wasn’t until later in the day, that brisk and breezy Lubbock day, that my mom broke the news to me on our way home from school: When she greeted me as I got in the car she was her usual self; she had the same loving maternal smile that she had in the morning when she had seen me off for the day. But this time, her smile and her words had an unusual level of conviction that kept me quiet all the way home.

As we rolled into the driveway, my mom put the Suburban into park, turned and looked at me and then immediately began to speak. I remained silent for I knew what was to come was not going to be good or even bad news — terrible, awful, devastating news was on it’s way.

Mom told me, “Something… happened today, Richard.”

And being my usual self I tried to cheer her up, asking if a certain critter who had decided it wanted to join us for the coming winter had been caught. She chuckled, but it sadly wasn’t enough to brighten her spirits.

“No, Richard.” she said trying to crack a smile.

“Today, people — terrible people flew two airplanes into two buildings in New York. They killed lots of people.”

My response was, “Oh. Those poor poor people.”

We went on with our day, but not as usual. We walked inside, I threw my backpack in the kitchen, ignoring my homework, and we immediately turned on the television. As pictures of what happened earlier that day flashed on the TV screen, we received a phone call — football practice had been canceled for obvious reasons. As Peter Jennings slowly and cautiously chose his words as he interviewed one of the first people to capture footage of the attacks that had forever changed America, for the first time in a long time, the silence in my home spoke volumes compared to the man on TV.

That day will forever linger in our conscious in our own special way, as two symbols of American capitalism were destroyed; a symbol of America’s military strength was severely damaged; but on that day, 37 symbols of loyalty, courage, and above all patriotism shone brightly on board United Airlines flight 93.

The pain and sorrow we continue to experience today is only human — after all, we will never forget that traumatic and life changing day. We will forever mourn the lost souls who now “hang high in the sunlit silence” and they will live on through the ages. But, at what point do we begin to remember? At what point does our nation not cease to mourn — but to commemorate? Well, I conjecture that day is today. We will never be the same nation that we were before September the eleventh; we are without a doubt a changed nation, but our generation now realizes that we must have our own new birth of freedom.

That day, evil was present in America. That day, the imprint of terrorism seared throughout this great nation. We realized that our freedom is not, to paraphrase President Reagan, passed on in the bloodstream. “It must fought for, protected, and handed on for [another generation] to do the same.”

Brave, and heroic Americans helped each other on that day; They picked one another up when they were down and helped to wipe the soot off of faces filled with grief. Fearless Americans ran back into the rubble that was the World Trade Center to help pull out survivors. Ran back into the World Trade Center.

Today, the streets of heaven are too crowded with these souls who gave every last full measure of devotion to a cause higher than themselves; they risked and in some cases sacrificed their own lives for the well being of their fellow Americans. And personally, I do not think for one moment that there is anything more American than that.

On September eleventh, we were tested. The true resolve of the American spirit was tested. But we stood tall. We stepped forward. Our just anger and fury fell to the ground  just as terribly as the two twin towers did in New York City. But they were soon replaced — just as the two super structures in Manhattan will be — by something more worthy. The determination of American’s everywhere to do good. To seek justice. To ensure that our freedom would endure.

And before I finish this post, I’d like to mention a loss in the San Antonio community: Thursday, another San Antonio service member, Marine Lance Corporal Christopher Balthazar died in defending this divine right to freedom. He understood, as we do that as one nation, as one people, that the great and mighty gift of freedom, “the sacred heritage of liberty” endowed by our Creator is too precious to let slip away unknowingly into the mist of uncertainty. Today we thank him for his selfless devotion to our nation.
And today, we remember all those who lost their lives; we remember the unknown, those whose remains were never recovered, who were never accounted for.

We will never forget.

Most of us remember the exact moment we heard the news of the terrible and devastating attacks on our country. We remember precisely what we were doing, where we were, and the thoughts racing through our minds.

September the 11th, the year 2001 is a date which will live on forever in American history as the most devastating day ever in America.

That day our freedom, and the freedom of all democracies around the world was threatened.

Terrorists, with extreme beliefs, slaughtered beyond 3,000 innocent citizens of America and citizens of the world. Innocent men and women perished; mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters all died eight years ago in what were undeniably the worst attacks on this nation since Pearl Harbor.

Two symbols of American capitalism were destroyed; a symbol of America’s military strength was severely damaged; but on that day, 37 symbols of loyalty, courage, and above all patriotism shone brightly onboard United Airlines flight 93.

The pain and sorrow we continue to experience today is only human — after all, we will never forget that traumatic and life changing day. We will forever mourn the lost souls who now “hang high in the sunlit silence” and they will live on through the ages. But, at what point do we begin to remember? At what point does our nation not cease to mourn — but to commemorate? Well, I conjecture that day is today. We will never be the same nation that we were before September the eleventh; we are without a doubt a changed nation, but our generation now realizes that we must have our own new birth of freedom.

That day, evil was present in America. That day, the imprint of terrorism seared throughout this great nation. We realized that our freedom is not, to paraphrase President Reagan, passed on in the bloodstream. “It must fought for, protected, and handed on for [another generation] to do the same.”

This generation began fighting for and protecting our freedom on September 11, 2001. Brave, and heroic Americans helped each other on that day. Fearless Americans ran back into the rubble that was the World Trade Center to help pull out survivors. Ran back into the World Trade Center.

Today, the streets of heaven are too crowded with these souls who gave every last full measure of devotion to a cause higher than themselves; they risked and in some cases sacrificed their own lives for the well being of others. And, personally, I don’t think there is anything more American than that.

Let us go forth today, never forgetting what happened. Let us look to the past and realize that nothing — no one — can ever break the resolve of the American spirit. Because nobody can break the people — the citizens of America who make up it’s very fabric.

We will be tested — we will be tried — but we will never stand weary. We will always stand tall because as Americans we will do anything to defend our freedom. We understand as one nation, as one people, that the great and mighty gift of freedom, “the sacred heritage of liberty” endowed by our Creator is too precious to let slip away unknowingly into the mist of uncertainty. And I know for certain that it will be the great energy and enthusiasm of the American Spirit, as well as the goodness and kindness of people  from every corner of this nation, that will never see this come to fruition.

May God bless you, may He bless the families of those who lost their lives eight years ago; may He continue to bless those who defend our freedom; and may He continue to bless the United States of America.

Thank you all.

Tribute Video

Directions: From your summer book, choose a passage of at least 250 words in which the author tries to get the audience to feel sympathy for a person or persons. In an essay, analyze how the writer tries to create these sympathetic feelings in the reader. You may want to consider the writer’s use of imagery, allusion, figurative language, diction, or other aspects of the passage. Use plenty of cited textual support, preferably quotes, to support your discussion.

Among the greatest gifts of life is the uncertainty that you could pass at any moment of any day. WIth the dark, lingering cloud of death hanging never too far in the distance, we try to live our lives to the fullest. Whether it’s through our careers or the way in which we live our life, life itself is too precious a gift not to exhaust to the fullest.

We, as human beings in our own ways can change the future for ourselves and for all the world — but we must also accept the past — we may not like to remember the events of before, but life is too short to not accept them.

If we all know we cannot change the past, but the future is — and all that it holds is shaped solely by us, life seems great. But what if your fate was predetermined? If you knew the exact day, hour… the exact moment you would die. Roland Weary was quite aware of this time and that certainty is the greatest reason why Roland Weary is unenthusiastic about living — because “will die, [has] died, and always will die on February thirteenth, 1976.” While unenthusiastic, Roland keeps going for unspecified reasons, and a framed prayer on his wall is indicative of his devotion to life:

GOD GRANT ME
THE SERENITY TO ACCEPT
THE THINGS I CANNOT CHANGE,
COURAGE
TO CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN,
AND WISDOM ALWAYS
TO TELL THE
DIFFERENCE

In that prayer and in the following lines:

“Among the things Billy Pilgrim could not change were the past, the present, and the future” was evoked a later sense of sadness and, ultimately, sympathy (Vonnegut 77). I say this because these feelings are not picked up and sensed immediately upon reading the prayer. When Billy dies later in the novel, these two passages, as well as one additional passage later in the novel, Billy’s description of his death, help to tie together and elicit a true sense of sympathy. The lingering cloud of death that night was not far — for, it hung in the distance of “the darkened press box” (Vonnegut 182).

Today, America laid to rest a great man.

Driving through town, the respect for a man who was truly America’s senator is evident everywhere. Cruising along almost every road in San Antonio, you see Old Glory — except today, she is helping the nation mourn the loss of an irreplaceable public servant.

On Tuesday, the nation learned of the passing of a man who has cast over 15,000 votes in the United States Senate; a man who has genuinely loved America, it’s promise — but what he loved more, it seemed, was the people.

And the people loved him back.

In fact, his motorcade and the entire funeral was delayed — because some — some who were not even from his own state of Massachusetts felt obligated to pay their final respects to the late Senator.

As a conservative, I cannot say I agreed with every piece of legislation he voted for — I did not know the man who was Edward Kennedy nor was I a citizen of his great home state, but as America’s Senator, he touched and inspired millions of Americans. It seemed that in his 47-year career which spanned trouble and heartache for America, as well as times of prosperity and peace, his heart was always in the right place. For that — the truth — was something that I’m sure you could not and cannot argue.

As the sun set on our nation’s east cost, as family and friends gathered at Arlington National Cemetery, as Teddy Kennedy was brought forth to his final resting place alongside his two slain brothers flashbacks to the past — of the anguish of before could not help to be avoided.

The work of two people — two public servants, two husbands, and two fathers was put solely on the shoulders of Edward Kennedy. He endured eternal loss: his two brother’s who succumbed to assassin’s bullets. But he revered and carried forth their dream — their torch — which to this day shines ever so brightly as indicative of a more hopeful, a more free, a more promising and equal America for all.

A great chapter in American history has sadly, and ultimately come to a peaceful close. We can now know for sure that Teddy is home — with his two brothers, telling them all about how he carried on. How through it all — their dreams and aspirations for America will reign on through the centuries because of him. He is telling them of this — and making them proud. He now faces his Creator — his Savior — and will forever live on, in eternal glory.

One of the most recently introduced and intriguing services that I know of is a small screenshot sharing service called TinyGrab.

TinyGrab in essence revolutionizes the whole screenshot sharing industry by allowing you to manage your uploaded images, and more. Take a look at the chart below for full information:

Now at this point in the post you’re probably scratching your head wondering why I named this post “Please, No Thank You.” Well, it’s because while all of this is nice — it’s great: I don’t want to pay for it. I am not saying this to sound cheap, but I currently use GrabUp, one of the early pioneers (asides from Skitch) in screenshot sharing and am very happy with it. Sure it has it’s ups-and-downs, but I don’t use it on a professional basis so whether or not it saves my images online for me makes absolutely no difference.I don’t mind that I get a long URL because Tweetie automatically condenses them for me. And my GrabUp URL isn’t known to anyone unless I reveal it, thus it is just as secret as the TinyGrab URL. (But not secure, apparently) But that’s just the paid version — the free version limits me to ten grabs a day and I am not a fan of that because my screenshot sharing numbers vary from day to day.

Of course this still doesn’t explain my title so let me cut to the chase:

Only who I can presume as being the “marketing team” at TinyGrab has nagged, nagged. And nagged some more to try and get me to join TinyGrab. Let me be frank once more: I don’t want it and I’ve explained it above as to why I do not want it. I understand that this is just business — but at what point does a business drive the CUSTOMER crazy? After all, isn’t the customer always right? Apparently I’m wrong. VERY wrong and I as well as every other person who uses GrabUp should stop immediately because it is killing people.

Now this isn’t even the half of it, just the nice version.

…Americans were too proud to take government handouts

…Americans took responsibility for their actions

…Americans proudly placed their hand over their heart and recited the Pledge of Allegiance

…Americans understood that the devastating concept of war was necessary because:

1. There are those who seek to undermine our freedom
2. Freedom is not free

…Americans relied on one another in times of hardship, not the government

…Civic pride was infectious

I am not saying nor trying to imply that receiving help from someone is disgraceful, we all need it at one point or another in our lives. But help, especially from the government is dangerous; it should be used as a stepping stone back to the road to prosperity and security.

Two good friends, Matt Pippen and Zach Flauaus are organizing a SXSW (South by Southwest) panel that is currently undergoing what is literally called “panel picker selection.” Now, I’ve been asked to be on this panel — the Teens and New Media: A Change is Coming panel, and could really use your vote to help us advance onto the next round.

Now, I am not alone; the panel includes several well-knowledgeable and Internet enthused teens: potential panelists include (of course) Matt Pippen and Zach Flauaus, Abby Laporte, Jordan Drake, and myself.

I’ve included the panel information below and of course to vote you must click here and register (feel free to click the link @ the top of this post as well). Thanks so much, everybody!

Description

The Internet and the future share a common similarity: they’re always in constant motion. With teens leading the future of innovations, we’ll look how teens take part in New Media and where the future is taking them.

Questions

1. What are teens doing on the Internet with New Media/Web 2.0?
2. As a teen, how are you dealing with the cross over between your friends and your “fans,” in terms of Facebook, MySpace, etc?
3. How are teens changing the landscape in New Media/Web 2.0?
4. What do teens bring to New Media/Web 2.0 that older demographics don’t have?
5. What do teens have to do to overcome age barriers and be taken seriously as members of the New Media culture?
6. What are common mistakes teens make when trying to venture into New Media projects?
7. What are some Web 2.0 “marketing strategies” to separate yourself from the crowd?
8. Should schools be encouraging new media development by teens?
9. How does involvement in New Media for a teenager shape their need for higher education?
10. What does the future of New Media hold for the next generation of teens?

Location

Of course, SXSW is held yearly in beautiful Austin, Texas:

Now, I signed the Twitter petition, will you?