When the news broke that we killed Osama bin Laden, I knew that bottle of Jameson wouldn’t last through the night. Mainly because we killed him. Bin Laden didn’t die of kidney disease. He wasn’t captured and tried. He didn’t even meet his demise in a drone attack. He saw the Navy SEAL who gave him a double-tap to the head.
That’s why I want to see the death photos.
I don’t doubt that he’s actually dead. A U.S. president would be committing political suicide to lie about such a thing.
And I don’t care about pissing off overly-sensitive Islamofascists. They’re already pissed, and frankly, they should see the photos too. If for anything to show them the consequences of attacking the United States — eventually, you will meet your fate.
I want to see the photos because it would make me feel good. Unlike the president, I want to “spike the football.” Bin Laden’s half blown-off face should be on posters and T-shirts.
Some say that’s not how Americans act. That we are set apart from the rest of the world in how we react. Tell that to the thousands who gathered outside the White House, at Ground Zero and on college campuses to celebrate Sunday night.
Those who compare our demonstrations to those of Palestinians after Sept. 11, 2001 are dead wrong. Celebrating the deaths of thousands of innocents is nothing like celebrating the termination of the face of evil that perpetrated such an attack.
Perhaps the president doesn’t get it. After nearly 10 years, he got to see the photos — shoot, he watched the raid in the Situation Room in real time.
The rest of us didn’t get such catharsis.
There is joy to be had that Osama is no longer drawing breath. But it would be even better if we could see the bastard’s dead face, and allow that image to replace those seared in our memories from Sept. 11.