I don't want this to be a day people remember forever.

Osama bin Laden's death was announced today.

I found out when my housemate mentioned it to me. I did not have any really strong feelings about it. Right now I have a lot of cynicism about the political world for which I blame my political film class--think Dr. Strangelove meets Wag the Dog and you know about where my conception of my government at war is.

And apathy. I have apathy.

I probably shouldn't be making this post.

I feel really disconnected from people right now, because what I'm seeing on my droll and on twitter suggests that most people, you know, feel something or other fairly strongly about this. My brain promptly filed it away under "war pageantry" and spent an hour not thinking about it. And then I read the internet and my brain pulled it back out again to examine and try to figure out... why people care. And I get it on an intellectual basis, though most of my intellectual basis is "Other people take part in and buy into the drama machine... right." But on an emotional basis, I got nothing.

I can't tell if my cynicism is a case of understanding too much or understanding nothing at all.

I get why people who suffered or lost loved ones due to bin Laden's attacks feel happy, avenged, that justice was done. I get that vast swathes of Americans feel that they suffered even if the effects on their lives were indirect. I get why this feels important to them.

But I wish this would be a footnote in history at best. I wish for bin Laden, and the pain he caused people, to be forgotten. I wish that the day people celebrated someone they hated getting killed is not a day that we will choose to remember. I hope this fades away.

(Because if it doesn't, if bin Laden and who he was and why anyone cares that he's dead stays with us forever, then hasn't his terrorism accomplished this purpose he intended?)

My brain people are too smart for their own good

I've been hunting for Ivan in my head because most of the plot bunnies I have for him are less horrifying than other stuff I've been carrying around lately. But Ivan in his best Ivanish fashion has been slippery as an eel; niqaeli thinks he's wisely hiding from my idfic while I think he just hasn't forgiven me for that unfortunate edge case blending of a couple of AUs where he ended up publically compared to Ges Vorrutyer and the drunken breakdown was only partly an act.

Anyway, I finally figured out where he's been hiding: with Neal Caffrey, in modern-day New York. He's very smug about it. For all that Agent Burke is stumped by the Russian spaceman from the future crashing on Neal's couch, he's not doing anything about him. He comes off less weird than Mozzie, despite everything, so Peter's just at, "Okay, I don't get your friends. Tell him not to do anything illegal in front of me." So Ivan is smugly certain that plot cannot touch him here.

I am so very tempted to prove him wrong.