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Monday, January 1, 2007


Tonight I used a box cutter to get some big pieces of corrugated cardboard ready for recycling. Holding it in my hand and looking down at it, I couldn't help but think of 9/11/01. Neither the box cutter nor I will ever be the same as we were before that day.

Comments (4)

You --and I-- will never be the same, Jack, but the box cutter will go back to being a box cutter. Except maybe our grandkids, if we ever have them, will have pocket-laser-box-cutters or some such thing. And then the box cutter will become a relic of an earlier time.

Can you imagine growing up with black & white TV? Getting excited when you could bounce the picture of a ping ping ball back and forth on your TV screen? Now it takes 62 inches of 1080p, and watching video games is like watching a movie, but your kid's in it, punching buttons on a controller you don't know how to use.

Having lost more than one pair of nail clippers to airport security, I can't think of nail clippers the same. Sometimes I feel sorta bad-ass when I've got a nail clipper in my pocket...the switchblade of our time.

They still remind me of a very cold, wet day when I got clumsy cutting the twine from the root ball of a big maple tree. I still twitch at the mere sight of either.

Jack, it is incredible that you surely believe the Nine-Eleven Op myth, about fanatic hijackers and box cutters and the whole make-believe hoax. It's like having a friend going delusional, and I just want to say, 'help yourself turn it around, your brain is too good to lose.'

It's like: There was your brain. And now there's your brain on planted fear. And it's fried.

Did aliens do it? Did Reagan pilot one of the planes?

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