It was not until the next day that it really hit me. I was walking up 7th Avenue to our office, my usual early morning exercise for the period I had been in New York. From 24th to 48th, my route took me around Penn Station, where I would go crosstown to 6th to avoid the mad crush of Times Square. Near Penn Station, on the almost deserted streets, I saw two men raising the Flag. I realized it would go half-mast. That hurt. That's when the sadness and grief hit me. The cold, rational thought of the day before "we are at war" was complemented by the emotional impact. The day before had been an attempt to destroy not just buildings and individuals, but the very Thought of America, our civilization, our freedom.

It is exactly the abstract, the powerful Idea that is embodied in the United States that threatens the barbarians' tenuous hold over their victims, for as long as Old Glory waves the irresistable call of a better life, more freedom, more prosperity will turn the oppressed against their oppressors. The pusillanimous moral relativism that exists on the lunatic fringes of society wails and moans, but the rest of us know: we have work to do. There is a war to be won. The survival of freedom is at stake, and many brave men will die to safeguard those rights. Including the rights of the wailing Idiotarians of the "Blame America First" crowd. Thus it has ever been.

After every war America has fought, the world has become a better, freer place. And so it will be this time too.

Remember the ones who were murdered. Remember the ones who gave their lives. Think of the ones who are now protecting ours. Read Lileks today. Remember who cheered.. Buy one of these. Be confident. Be proud. Enjoy life.

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