Break His Bones [antikvár]

AUTHOR'S NOTE It's a truism. Things are different since 11 September 2001. Of course, things are always different, which is why the open-minded find life so mysterious. The mystery goes beyond mere unpredictability. We don't know how we come into the world, never learn what we are or what happens to us when we're finished. It's been noted by an English sage that, as a matter of fact, we do not come into the world at all, that we come from the world. I am beguiled by the implications of this observation. What it implies lifts up my heart, but this too is mysterious. After radical Islamists expressed their displeasure with American foreign policy at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon it was suggested by some that, having experienced our own holocaust, we would never talk about the Jewish Holocaust the way we had talked about it before. On the one hand that would be a mitzvah for those of us who do not personally represent the Holocaust Industry, or profit from it, and in any event do not want to hear about it any longer. On the other, I have lived with the story for so long that at first I was uncertain what I might do without it. I've spent my golden years trying to convince the professors and our other cultural elites that they should encourage, rather than discourage, intellectual freedom and open debate, even with regard to the Holocaust question. I have failed—so far. If I had been successful it might have become widely known, even in the U.S. Congress, that many