I protest.

Fahrenheit 9/11, another perspective.

To my great relief, Riverbend has a new entry in "Baghdad Burning," largely concerning her reaction to Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11. I am relieved because she hadn't updated since August 7 and I was quite honestly worried. She lives amid death and destruction and one never knows when it might find her. For the moment, though, she is okay.

Her reaction to the film?

All in all, the film was… what is the right word for it? Great? Amazing? Fantastic? No. It made me furious, it made me sad and I cried more than I'd like to admit… but it was brilliant. The words he used to narrate were simple and to the point. I wish everyone could see the film.

She goes on to point out a couple of truths, asking how Americans think Iraqis will remember the occupation in twenty years. (The answer is obvious for anyone not blinded by hatred, greed or so-called "patriotism.") Like most of the world, Iraqis reacted to the events of 9/11 with "a sort of collective shock," then "a sort of pity and understanding — we've been through the same." But:

We have 9/11's on a monthly basis. Each and every Iraqi person who dies with a bullet, a missile, a grenade, under torture, accidentally— they all have families and friends and people who care. The number of Iraqis dead since March 2003 is by now at least eight times the number of people who died in the World Trade Center. They had their last words, and their last thoughts as their worlds came down around them, too. I've attended more wakes and funerals this last year, than I've attended my whole life. The process of mourning and the hollow words of comfort have become much too familiar and automatic.

And then she describes an individual experience of one of the attacks of 9/11:

… he sat there, reading the paper. As he reached out for the cup in front of him for a sip of tea, he could vaguely hear the sound of an airplane overhead. It was a bright, fresh day and there was much he had to do… but the world suddenly went black — a colossal explosion and then crushed bones under the weight of concrete and iron… screams rose up around him… men, women and children… shards of glass sought out tender, unprotected skin … he thought of his family and tried to rise, but something inside of him was broken… there was a rising heat and the pungent smell of burning flesh mingled sickeningly with the smoke and the dust… and suddenly it was blackness.

A more recent 9/11: 9/11/2004, a home in Fallujah, Iraq.