How else but with rage and grief is a body supposed to react to watching the world he knew be destroyed? What other emotions aside from mourning and fury can we expect?
England is for the English, France is for the French, and so on in each country.
But Europe and the UK are, in a sense, a part of the patrimony of an American. They are part of the West. America is a descendant, now a cousin, of England. France lent us help in the American revolution. Enlightenment ideas that built the modern West flowed between us.
It's not like watching a distant star supernova; it is to watch your cousins' house burn while the arsonists laugh and your cousins stand there doing nothing but crying.
It's awful.
I'm from the 20th century. If you're younger, you won't be able to feel this the way people like me do. With a few years, you will feel something similar based on your own time.
We're watching the last of the 20th century be destroyed deliberately with no one willing to stop it. The police clocked out, the guards went to sleep.
Everything good, everything worth preserving, every piece of the past that acted as a base on which to build a hopeful future is being burned and shattered. Gleefully.
There's no way to say this so that you really hear it for what it is; you only hear a cliche. But it's *real*, still.
No one in my cohort or above could ever have imagined we'd live to see such times. This was outside the possibilities we could have imagined. Yes, we were foolish to believe in permanence, I know.
But we did believe, and now is a time of deep sorrow, foolish though we may have been.
You know how you saw the Statue of Liberty covered in sand in Planet of the Apes and thought, "compelling for a movie, but man, that could never happen."
It is happening. It's not a movie. And it's terrible.
-Uncle Josh