He is one of the more popular talk show hosts in America, but he generally is heard only in Southern California. He has a tendency to mix his discussion of world and local events with a lot of joking around and misinformation.
That being the case, I guess for me, he was the wrong person to be relating news about the World Trade Center. He was prattling on and on about something which was obviously quite bogus and impossible.
Half asleep, and half awake, I remember thinking:
And as he kept going on and on about it, it seemed stranger and stranger and I became more and more annoyed.
Now angry, I was thinking:
So, I finally became so annoyed that I got out of bed to change the radio to another station. And, and, from that other station, was coming the same exact feed. Bill Handel going on about the world trade center. His live morning show was being simulcast on a variety of Clear Channel stations in the Los Angeles market. In fact, I think on every Clear Channel station here of which there are a fair number.
That was both a disappointment and a shock. For it was not a sick show, but suggested a real event. Something more sick and depraved.
Television confirmed the hideous tragedy.
And in my heart of hearts, I knew I was looking at a work of CONSUMMATE EVIL.
And of course, as we always do, along with the sadness and mourning, we also observed persons within certain cultures, celebrating as they always do, by dancing in the streets, because innocents died.
The last part of 2001 was a strange time for me. But I carried on pretty much as usual, just with a simmering anger inside that the world and certain cultures would both tolerate and even support such delirious hatred.
After Thanksgiving I became unexpectedly ill and ended up in the hospital for a while. Up to then I had very little internet presence. But after surgery, I did not bounce back as I have in the past, and began to spend more time on-line.
In the months and years since, I have improved a lot, and would seem to be completely back to normal. But I know, that I am not completely as I was before. The passage of time writes itself upon us and within us. Baggage we carry forever after.