I don't want to write anything about 9/11 because I have nothing to say that hasn?t already been said more than a few times. But maybe something about my POV should be written. I live in a reality where getting blown up on your way to work or school is not that unusual. Here, almost everyone personally knows(n) a victim of terror. Here, everyone serves in the army because war on our soil is a strong possibility. Here, the question of the anti-democratic nature of racial profiling and its implications on national security is in the center of public debate for over 50 years, because 20% of the country's citizens belong to the "security liability" group although full integration is law. And you know what? We keep on living, and dealing with our aggressive neighbors, our even more aggressive closer neighbors, our own militant brothers driven by blind revenge and hatred, our orthodox brothers who believe the country has no right to exist before the coming of the messiah, Scandinavians who are so out of touch with the world below the polar circle they honestly think "just kiss and make up" is good advice, and even our misguided humanists who, in the name of humanity, human rights and starving children, raise funds used to build training camps and pay "freedom fighters'" and "mortars'" families' pensions. Yes, some leave to enjoy a safer life in beautiful Canada, but most stay and raise their children in a place where they will be taught to recognize a bomb in kindergarten. And pray they will never have to test those skills. Even the non-religious kind. Emily asked on her Blog what we, the current generation, are going to do with our turn to win our freedom, since on this day, a year ago, we have learned for ourselves that freedom is not free. Some of us are devoting the (arguably) best years of our lives to protect the country we live in. Others may just be ready to reach the conclusion that love is not always the answer and sometimes, controlled violence is a viable way to fight uncontrolled violence, so while turning the other cheek they will not interfere with me getting those bastards' eyes out. What have you done to make sure your children's letters home will not start with: "Bismi Allahi alrrahmani alrraheemi"?