When I heard the news of the bin Laden assassination, I had that same funny feeling I had as a kid when I watched Jack Ruby on TV shoot Lee Harvey Oswald in the police station.
It was that strange feeling you get when someone is lying to you. They let an armed man into the police station? He killed the most important defendant in the whole world before he could say any more? Stinks to high heaven, wouldn’t you say?
So they shot bin Laden and he’s already buried. At sea. But America was so happy-they wanted to believe it and that’s hard to resist. I’ve heard very smart people say to leave it alone, because the people need to heal from their grief. With lies?
Remember how they said at first he lived in a mansion? Then actual photos of the place showed it to be a dump? Remember there was a helicopter that crashed? Never heard much about that, they literally covered up the wreckage with a fence and before long they flattened the whole compound, turning the whole place into a video game format for news stories.
Pakistani neighbors tell a different story. They say the man who lived there was not bin Laden. They say men came out of the house, got in the helicopter and it exploded. They say they ran over and saw the charred bodies. I did not get that funny feeling when the neighbors were talking. I believe they were telling the truth.
What really happened? I don’t know, but I know a helicopter blew up and perhaps ten men were killed. I know the story as presented is a lie. I know that Osama bin Laden was not even wanted for 9/11; he was wanted for bombing an embassy elsewhere. I know that good myths must have a devilish villain and he was that designated villain.
I know that lies cannot help; they cannot help people heal, they cannot restore our sense of glory, they cannot live. The devil, Jesus said, is the father of lies. How can good ever come from lies?