September 13, 2001 — We lived like we could never die

I'm still trying to decide if too many people that are acting as though the world is coming to an end, or if too few are. I've pushed everything into the back of my mind and am doing my best to keep my eyes facing forward. I've so much to do that I'm not sure I've a choice, anyway...

Jeff says that on his train ride to Oshawa yesterday, a fellow asked him if he was ready for the draft. I wonder who the war will be against. Too many people seem to be so blinded by rage that they don't seem to care about a minor detail like that:

We don't need long investigations of the forensic evidence to determine with scientific accuracy the person or persons who ordered this specific attack. We don't need an "international coalition." We don't need a study on "terrorism." . . . . We know who the homicidal maniacs are. They are the ones cheering and dancing right now. We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to Christianity.

This doesn't need to turn into a war. So long as people like the writer above are still a decent distance from the reigns of international policy, anyway. A country is not to blame, nor is a religion or an ethnic group; it's just a matter of convincing the people out firebombing mosques that this is the case.

Back in Toronto, I've had a fairly productive day with my blinders on to the world. During the afternoon, I heard a faint noise that sounded like the landlord's doorbell; when I looked outside, I saw a Canada Post truck sitting on the sidewalk. Not wasting any time on shoes, socks, or house keys, I darted down the stairs and ran outside, doing my best to leave doors open (or at least unlocked) behind me as I went. I caught the delivery person with the package just as she was about to give up, and she seemed rather amused by my bare feet and the vaguely panicked tone of my voice.

I scurried inside, tore open the package from Bell Canada, and found the DSL modem inside. Along with a note saying that the service wouldn't activated until the next day. Not being the type to let a thing like that stop me from spending an afternoon setting up routers and making minor alterations the the house's wiring in preparation for the following day, I set to work. Then Andrew arrived home from school, and all the phones in the house went dead.

Panicked once again, I couldn't think of anything that I could've done that might cut off our phone line. We decided to wait an hour and then to try calling Bell to see if they knew what was going on.

Five minutes later, the dial tone returned. And the DSL modem worked.

Ten minutes later, I had both my computer and Andrew's computer online.

Fifteen minutes later, the live webcam was turned back on after four months of down-time.

But I didn't stop there: I called Bell to get a few unnecessary features removed from our phone line, had my pager disconnected, and started the wheels turning to cut off one of the Web servers that I still pay for but seldom use and to ensure that the Bran Van 3000 site doesn't crash and burn without record label sponsorship. Then I went to Pizza Pizza for dinner to reward myself. Good times.

I'm probably going to be up late tonight finishing the documentation to my last project from my summer job, so I should get to that. I need to start getting used to this always-being-on-camera bit, too -- I'd forgotten that it feels a bit odd for the first little while, and I'm not as numbed to it as I was in May.

All in all, it's a lot easier to get on with life here, so far away (in my mind, at least) from the disastrous events of two days ago. I'm not sure if I should feel insensitive for just getting on with things, but I don't know that there's a better way. I could go on many a political rant about the events of the last week, but I don't think antigreg's the place for it. And besides, since I've more or less removed your ability to disagree with me, it doesn't seem all that fair at this point.

Back to writing technical documents while waiting for the dust to settle...