This Flub's for you, Mr. Terrorist, wherever, whoever, whatever you are. You can run, but you can't hide. Good will triumph over evil. We will win this crusade, war. Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Whoever is writing this stuff for our commander-in chief is taking all the good one-liners. I'm sure every would-be terrorist in the world trembles uncontrollably at such rhetoric.

I have wondered who these terrorists are that we are fighting. I got out my trusty Webster's to help me focus in on what exactly a terrorist is:

Terrorist:A radical who employs terror as a political weapon.

Terror:An overwhelming feeling of fear and anxiety.

Fear: To be afraid or frightened of

Anxiety:A vague, unpleasant emotion that is experienced in anticipation of something dreadful happening.

So, to sum up, we are chasing someone, who lives somewhere, who for political (and maybe religious) reasons, is attempting to make us fearful and anxious.

Wow. Whoever, wherever, whatever these people are, they're good. Everybody I talk to is fearful and anxious. I keep looking over my shoulder expecting to see bin Laden or Saddam, devilishly holding a gun, aiming it at me. The whole bloody thing makes me nervous as a whore in church. Even the Congress beats feet for home, terrorized that they might be the next victims.

I listened to Rush Limbaugh on WGIL the other noon. I listen for no reason other than to make sure I am thinking or writing nothing that would resemble any thoughts that may ever cross his mind. Listening to his right-wing brand of nonsense makes me anxious and fearful. He definitely doesn't seem to like bin Laden or Saddam, but I get that same chill listening to him that I get from them. I think it could be terror.

I went to work the other day and got a memo describing how I was going to lose some of my benefits. It apparently is for the good of the whole. Up to this point I haven't exactly figured out how, but I'm none-the-less now working for less. It makes me a little anxious and fearful. What if the next memo is a goodbye note? Enough to strike terror into anybody.

This guy comes up to my door last week. I figure he's selling something. He had on a white, long sleeved shirt, which, if you know me, is in and of itself enough to make me anxious. He could have been a politician, but I figured preacher. Either way, I'm anxious. One's after my money, the other my soul. Terror right at my own front door. Scared the ever-living hell out of me.

Health-care really makes me anxious. Health insurance is one God-awful terror for 45 million Americans who live without it, hoping sickness will avoid them. I am particularly anxious about this, having recently had a heart attack. No one wants to insure you. What do you do? It's sheer terror.

There's terror everywhere. I think my dog may have recently terrorized the mailman, AIDS is a terrible terror. Alzheimer's. Alcoholism. The evening news is made up of 75 percent terror. Terror is in the head-lines nightly. I turn around and someone yells boo. It all scares me

Terror. Terror. Terror. Everywhere you turn there's terror. It's horrible. It grabs hold of your heart and makes you anxious and fearful. It should be flubbed, all of it. But I wouldn't spend much time bombing Afghanistan or Iraq. It's much closer than that. Here's a cheap antidote, simple but effective. A prayer evoking divine protection. Try it out:

I know who I am.

I know where I come from.

I am not afraid.

Uploaded to The Zephyr Online October 24, 2001

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