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Our Celebration of Brotherhood
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Maria's Family Celebration It is Mexican Independence Day! Maria and Luis are getting ready for a big party. "We can decorate the house," says Maria. "Let's paint a picture of our family." "Mama was born first. She is the oldest," says Maria. "Papa was born second," Maria says. "He is one year younger." "Next is Emily," says Maria. "She is Mama and Papa's first child." "After Emily, you were born," says Luis. "That's right!" says Maria. "I am Mama and Papa's second child." "What about me?" asks Luis. "You were the last to be born," says Maria. "You are the youngest." "There!" says Maria. "Our family picture is done!" "Green, white, and red are the colors of the Mexican flag," says Maria. Maria and Luis blow up five green balloons. They blow up five white balloons and five red balloons, too. "I'm out of breath!" says Luis. "Let's see," says Maria. "We painted a picture first. We blew up balloons second. The third thing we can do is fill the piĂąata." Maria gets the striped fish piĂąata from the shelf. Maria and Luis stuff the piĂąata with candy. When Luis thinks Maria isn't looking, he pops a piece of candy into his mouth. Maria gives him a hug. "You are silly," she says. Papa hangs the piĂąata. "We need a blindfold," says Maria. "We need a stick to break the piĂąata, toĐž." Abuela finds a red-checked scarf for Maria and a long stick for Luis. "The piĂąata is ready!" says Maria. "The fourth thing to do is practice dancing, Luis!" Maria and Luis dress in their party clothes. Then, they dance and spin. Soon, the house fills up with food, family, and music. There are six cousins, two aunts, three uncles, and three grandparents. There is Papa, Mama, Emily, Maria, and Luis, too. "There is one last thing we can do," Maria says. "And it's the most fun!" "What is it?" asks Luis. "CELEBRATE!" says Maria.Carlos's Family Celebration It's Mexican Independence Day! Carlos and Selena are getting ready for a big party. "We can decorate the house," says Carlos. "Let's paint a picture of our family." "Mama was born first. She is the oldest," says Carlos. "Papa was born second," Carlos says. "He is one year younger." "Next is Mateo," says Carlos. "He is Mama and Papa's first child." "After Mateo, you were born," says Selena. "That's right!" says Carlos. I am Mama and Papa's second child." "What about me?" asks Selena. "You were the last to be born," says Carlos. "You are the youngest." "There!" says Carlos. "Our family picture is done!" "Green, white, and red are the colors of the Mexican flag," says Carlos. Carlos and Selena blow up five green balloons. They blow up five white balloons and five red balloons, too. "I'm out of breath!" says Selena. "Let's see,"says Carlos. "We painted a picture first. We blew up balloons second. The third thing we can do is fill the piĂąata.â Carlos gets the big star piĂąata from the shelf. Carlos and Selena stuff the piĂąata with candy. When Selena thinks Carlos isn't looking, she pops a piece of candy into her mouth. Carlos gives her a hug. "You are silly," he says. Mateo hangs the piĂąata in the apartment's grassy yard. "We need a blindfold," says Carlos. "And a stick to break the piĂąata, too." Abuela finds a red-checked scarf for Carlos and a long stick for Selena. "The piĂąata is ready!" says Carlos. "The fourth thing to do is practice dancing, Selena!" Carlos and Selena dress in their party clothes. Then, they dance and spin. Soon, the house fills up with food, family, and music. There are cousins, aunts, uncles, new babies, and new friends. There is Papa, Mama, Mateo, Carlos and Selena, too. "There is one last thing we can do," Carlos says. "And it's the most fun!" "What is it?" asks Selena. "CELEBRATE!" says Carlos. âOn this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when Iâm no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your âdeadâ Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when Iâm only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!â Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasnât what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. Thereâs no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. âThatâs right,â I said aloud. âKnox, my-my Sovereign!â squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one Iâd never seen before or had failed to remember. âLook what Iâve found! Itâs wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I donât know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.â He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. âHow neat.â âI want you to have it, Sir.â I nodded my head. âYes, of course. Thank you.â Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until Iâm nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. âShut up,â I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorumâbiting down with square teeth laced with rabies. âIâve got you all something,â I said. âGo back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We donât want it.â A woman rose from the pile and spat. âYou donât even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.â âYour playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.â The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. âI remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, Iâm going to have an aneurysm!â the girl continued. âWhy not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?â I returned her accusing tone. âIâm sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel Iâve neglected my duties. Iâll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if Iâve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!â I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. âIâll just leave this here.â Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** â141, 143. . .â I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasnât moving at allâswallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. Youâve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. âDo you need help, Knox?â called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There mustâve been at least another hundred between me and her. âIâm hallucinating some,â I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. âIâm hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, weâd have to eliminate the âballâ aspect. It sounds too crude.â âOne foot in front of the other,â she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stultoâs bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. âLove,â I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. âAre you awake?â She said sheâd wait. Somebodyâs gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manorâs cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. âWhere is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?â Thereâs someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stultoâs bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depressionâSpes posing with her ax, Ariâs school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subjectâs essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustnât forget whose home theyâre in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ariâs from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. âDarling,â whispered the rosy-faced man, âlook.â He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. âGet out of my house,â I said. The man stayed in place. âGet out of my house,â I repeated. âKnox,â Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. âShut up!â I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. âGet out of my house! Iâll kill you!â âKnox!â Spes sobbed. âGod damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, thereâs less passion. God, God, God, I donât want to fuck a dead man!â she screamed, âYou get out! Get! Get!â My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind worldâeven my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the manâs head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wifeâs shoulder. âSpes!â My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. âYouâre insane,â he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. âGet up.â Staggering toward the bed, I said. âYou wanted passion? I showed you passion. âShoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .â I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. âI love you, Spes,â I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. âSpes, please. Please.â No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. âDad? I heardââ Ariâs slippered feet hammered across the floor. âMom? Mom?â I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. âShe-She isnâtâyourâ.â Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. âYouâre a murderer. Bad. Like they said,â she breathed, â You beat her!â The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. âMy-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . Iâm afraid heâs going to hurt me,â she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least sheâd be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. âNo,â I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. âStay with me.â But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. âTrials Sovereign Vsevolod âKnoxâ Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purityâs Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Lifeâs 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!â towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You arenât a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didnât dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. âKnox?â said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasnât confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasnât as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellarâs backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. âCome on, get up! Theyâre after you!â Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. âAnwen?â I rasped, âhu-who let you out?â Keys jangled in her handsâmy keys. âI escaped,â she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. âQuicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. âYou see that compost bin down the alley? Weâre gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, Iâll be on top, and I can hide you and act like Iâm just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.â With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. âI donât understand, Anwen,â I said. âTheyâre going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know theyâve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!â âI understand that.â It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. âYou said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?â âWhat else could I do? Leave you there?â Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. âDamn me to hell! Iâve killed her! My love is dead!â an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. âShut up! Soon youâll be, too, if you donât quiet down.â The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the binâs lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. âWhat are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,â I whispered. âThe search, mainly.â Aggression remained firey in Anwenâs clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. âDid you mean to kill her?â Anwen interrogated. âSomeone like you would immutably believe yes.â âAnd who is someone like me? You canât even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?â grating drama decorated her words. âYou know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breedâs faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.â I retorted. âI just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?â âIt makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.â âAnd why am I an idiot?â She asked. âBecause you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.â As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. âYou never answered my question,â Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crateâs exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. âNo. Of course not. Spes was my everything,â I sniffled. âI knew it. You couldnât even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.â My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and miseryâone to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as âsensitiveâ, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wifeâs tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. âThatâs why I think you could use a little help,â Anwen said, âIt seems like you canât walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.â She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. âTake off your tie and put up your hair. âWill make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.âFeliz Navidad, Carlos! School was out for winter break. Carlos and his family packed to go to Monterrey, Mexico. "It's our first trip back since we moved to America," said Carlos. "I can't wait to see everyone!" Carlos sat by the window on the airplane. He saw clouds and blue sky. Then he saw the mountains around Monterrey. "We're almost there!" he said. Carlos's aunt, uncle, and cousins met them at the airport. "Feliz Navidad!" said his uncle. "You are home! This will be a wonderful celebration, now!" They had arrived in time to join in Las Posadas. Candles in paper bags lined the sidewalks. Neighborhood children acted out Mary and Joseph's journey to Bethlehem. Carlos, Selena, and Mateo walked the Posada with their cousins. They knocked on the first door. They sang a song and asked, "May we stay?" They were told "No." They knocked on the second door. They were told "No" again. They knocked on the third door. "Come in!" the neighbors said. A fiesta was inside! There were sweets and hot chocolate for everyone. There was even a piĂąata! "May I try to break the piĂąata?" Carlos asked. "I play baseball at my school. I can swing hard." Carlos was blindfolded. He hit the piĂąata and it split open! Treats and toys spilled out everywhere. They heard a boom and pop pop. "Fireworks!" Mateo yelled. Red, green, and blue lights filled the night sky. "It's so beautiful!" said his cousin. At midnight, the family walked to the old church. Inside, the dark church glowed from the light of candles. It was very quiet. Carlos watched the candles flicker all around him. Back at their uncle's home, they found more food and treats waiting for them. "This Navidad has been the best!" said Carlos. "We are lucky." "We can celebrate with our new friends in America and our family here in Mexico." Carlos, Selena, and Mateo were ready for sleep. But Selena remembered something. "Papa, when will we open our presents?" she asked. "We will each open one tomorrow, and the rest on January 6, Three Kings Day," Papa said. "I hope I get a calendar," Carlos said to Mama. "I'll put a star in December," said Carlos. "So I know when we'll come back for Navidad, again!" Dia for MarĂa Ratona was a cat named Mouse. She was small and gray, and had a tiny squeaky meow. She liked to sit in a hole in the shed wall. Ratona lived for a long time. Eight months ago, she died. I'm not sad anymore, but I think about her often. One day, MamĂĄ was setting up TĂa Teresa's ofrenda, a special altar, for Day of the Dead. Teresa passed away when I was a baby. "MamĂĄ, can we celebrate pets?" I asked. "This is mostly for family, though I suppose Ratona was part of ours," MamĂĄ said. "We can celebrate her the day before," I suggested. Later, MamĂĄ and I went to the market in Puebla. We got paper banners, sugar skulls, and marigolds. On October 31, my friends came over. Adriana brought her dog, Sal. or Salt. She had a photo of Sal's sister, Pimienta, or Pepper, who died last summer. Gloria had a picture of RaĂşl the rooster, a pet she had lost. We set up the banners, marigolds. and photos where Ratona used to sit. "Once, Pimienta stole a pound of cheese from our cooler. She got into the trash and ate it later! I have cheese for Pimienta," Adriana said. "My mother makes pumpkin seeds for my great-grandfather's ofrenda. RaĂşl jumped up and ate them! My mother was so mad. I brought some for RaĂşl," Gloria said. "If someone had ice cream, Ratona went Squeak! Squeak! until you let her lick the bowl. I have ice cream for Ratona," I said. I gave Adriana and Gloria sugar skulls before they left. I thought about funny little Ratona. On the last day of celebrations, my family walked to the graveyard. Everyone from the area came. There were fireworks and even a band. TĂa Teresa's gravestone was piled with flowers, sweet bread, and candles. MamĂĄ smiled to herself. "One day, MarĂa, your TĂa Teresa heard a tiny squeak coming from the grass. It was a little gray kitten. Teresa named her Ratona," MamĂĄ said. She continued, "When Teresa died, I took Ratona. You loved her right away. You reminded me of Teresa." Everyone was laughing and dancing. I was too young to remember TĂa Teresa, but we had both loved Ratona. That made me happy. MamĂĄ took my hand. "I think it's time to dance!" she said.Yaama I'm Jack Evans and you're watching BTN. Here's what's coming up. We uncover the story behind this famous photo, learn about First Nations seasons and find out the history of Book Week. What is Statehood? Reporter: Tatenda Chibika INTRO: But first, the Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has announced that Australia will join other countries in recognising Palestine as an independent state. So, what does that mean? Tatenda found out. Anthony Albanese, Prime Minister: Australia will recognise the state of Palestine. Australia will recognise the right of the Palestinian people to a state of their own. We will work with the international community to make this right a reality. Tatenda Chibika, Reporter: That's the moment our Prime Minister said Australia would recognise Palestine as an independent state at the upcoming United Nations General assembly next month. It's something other countries, including France and Canada, have said they'll be doing too. So, what does that mean exactly? To be considered an independent state under international law a place needs to have its own land or territories with defined borders, it needs to have people who permanently live there, have a working government and it has to be able to talk and make deals with other countries. Once a place meets all those rules, it can ask to be recognised by other independent states and countries. But a big step in becoming an independent state is being fully recognised by the United Nations. To do that you first need to get approval from at least nine members of the UN's Security Council. That's a group of countries responsible for maintaining international peace and security. But even then, that tick of approval can still be blocked by one of the Security Council's five permanent members Russia, China, the UK, the US and France. If the Security Council approves, the decision then goes to the UN's General Assembly where at least two thirds of the UN's 193 members have to agree to make it official. Yeah, it's a pretty complex process which is why we've only seen a handful of countries recognised by the UN in recent years like South Sudan and Montenegro. Others like Kosovo are only 'partially' recognised which means they have some recognition but not enough to become a full member state at the UN. Right now, Palestine is recognised by more than 140 countries â that's more than two thirds of the UN General Assembly. So, why hasn't it become a UN member state yet? Well, it came pretty close last year when 12 members of the Security Council voted in favour of it. VANESSA FRAZIER, AMBASSADOR OF MALTA, APRIL 2024 UNSC PRESIDENT: I shall now put the draft resolution to the vote. But the US, a close ally to Israel, used its special powers to block Palestine from becoming a member state. VANESSA FRAZIER: Those against? At the time, the U.S said Palestine and Israel needed to come to an agreement on their own first. Throughout the years, there have been attempts to figure out a way for both Palestine and Israel to exist peacefully alongside each other but that hasn't happened yet. And now Israel has said that recognising Palestine as an independent state would be rewarding Hamas the group in charge of Gaza which was responsible for the terror attacks on October 7th, 2023. But the Palestinian Authority which governs parts of the West Bank says Hamas won't have a role in any future state of Palestine which will exist peacefully alongside Israel. Australia, like the US, had previously said that it wanted Israel and Palestine to figure out things by themselves first but because of how the war has been going the Australian government is worried that if it continues to wait, there might not be a Palestinian state to recognise. ANTHONY ALBANESE, PRIME MINISTER: There has been too many lives lost, both Israeli's and Palestinians and the world is saying we need a solution to this conflict, we need to end the cycle of violence and the way to do that is to have a two-state solution. News Quiz Russia's President Vladimir Putin stepped foot on American Soil for the first time in a decade to meet with US President Donald Trump. What state did they meet in? Alabama, Alaska or Arizona?It's Alaska. The two leaders met to discuss a way to end the war in Ukraine but weren't able to make any final agreements. DONALD TRUMP, US PRESIDENT: There were many, many points that we agreed on. Most of them, I would say, a couple of big ones, that we haven't quite got there, but we've made some headway. There's no deal until there's a deal. A lot of people criticised the two world leaders for not including Ukraine's president Volodymyr Zelenskyy in the meeting. But that didn't seem to worry Mr Trump who said the meeting was a success and Mr Putin even invited the US President to meet up again in Russia. DONALD TRUMP: We'll see you again very soon. Thank you very much, Vladimir. VLADIMIR PUTIN, RUSSIAN PRESIDENT: Next time in Moscow. DONALD TRUMP: Oh, that's an interesting one. No, no, no. I'll get a little heat on that one. Last week thousands of people marked the 80th anniversary of VJ Day. What does VJ Day commemorate? The victory of Allied forces in Europe, the surrender of Japan and the end of World War II or the dropping of the first atomic bomb? VJ Day or Victory over Japan day commemorates the surrender of Japan and the end of World War II on the 15th of August 1945. Around the world, and here in Australia, people marked the anniversary with ceremonies remembering those who fought in the war. REPORTER: Who will you be remembering today? VETERAN: Oh, a lot of fellows that I knew that never made it home. Scientists in the UK have created toothpaste that includes which of these ingredients? Hair, eye lashes or fingernails? Yeah, they're all a bit random and gross but the answer is hair. According to scientists from King's College in London, hair could be the key to good oral health because it contains a protein called Keratin which they say when mixed with saliva forms a crystal-like protective coating similar to enamel. And Swifties rejoice because Taylor Swift has announced her 12th Studio album. It's called life of a show what? Is it show pony, show girl or show bag? It's Life of a Showgirl and it'll be released October 3rd. Vincent Lingiari Reporter: Joseph Baronio INTRO: Now to this very famous photograph. It was taken 50 years ago and depicts a really significant moment in Australian history. Joe found out about the story behind it. On the 16th of August 1975, this famous photo was taken. It shows the former Prime Minister Gough Whitlam pouring sand into the hand of Aboriginal leader Vincent Lingiari. A simple gesture that symbolised handing the land at Wave Hill in the Northern Territory back to the Gurindji people. But the journey to get there was far from simple. It started back in the 1960s. At the time, Wave Hill was the biggest cattle station in the world, controlled by British landowner Lord Vestey. The Gurindji people, who had lived on the land for generations, worked for Vestey, but they weren't paid fairly, and conditions were tough. NEWS REPORTER: The station's 100 aboriginal stockmen, with their 100 dependents, are camped in the dry bed of the Victoria River with little shade from 90-degree heat, dust and flies. Eventually, Gurindji leader Vincent Lingiari said it was time to act. VINCENT LINGIARI: I said, "What was it before Lord Vestey born and I was born?" It was blackfella country. So, on August 23rd, 1966, Mr Lingiari and his fellow Aboriginal workers went on strike. It became known as the Wave Hill Walk Off. They moved their camp away from the Wave Hill station to a sacred site called Daguragu on Wattie Creek. They wanted to set up their own cattle station, and said they wouldn't move until their land was returned to them. For years, petitions and negotiations went on between the Gurindji people, the NT Administration, and the Australian Government in Canberra. CLAPPERS: 31. 32. 33. DAVID QUINN, ABSCOL: Well, it's basic justice that their land is recognised. PROTESTORS: Equal rights! As the news spread across the country, thousands of Aussies joined the campaign, including the leader of the Labor Party, Gough Whitlam, who made this promise during his 1972 election campaign. GOUGH WHITLAM: We will legislate to give Aborigines land rights. Not just because their case is beyond argument, but because all of us as Australians are diminished, while the Aborigines are denied their rightful place in this nation. Later that year, Gough Whitlam became Prime Minister. (Song From Little Things Big Things Grow, Song by Kev Carmody and Paul Kelly, 1993) From little things big things grow,from little things big things grow⌠But it wasn't until 1975, 9 years after the Wave Hill Walk Off started, that he followed through with his promise. Eight years went by, eight long years of waiting'Til one day a tall stranger appeared in the landAnd he came with lawyers and he came with great ceremony GOUGH WHITLAM: I solemnly hand to you these deeds as proof in Australian law that these lands belong to the Gurindji people. And through Vincent's fingers poured a handful of sandFrom little things big things grow 50 years on, and The Wave Hill Walk Off is seen as a pivotal moment in Australia's history. It led to significant legal and social changes for First Nations people, which is something many agree is worth celebrating. First Nations Seasons Reporter: Saskia Mortarotti INTRO: Recently, Melbourne's Lord Mayor suggested ditching the four-season calendar that most of us are familiar with and adopting a six-season Wurundjeri calendar instead saying it gives a better description of what the weather's actually like there. Sas found out more about the different seasonal calendars used by First Nations people. SASKIA MORTAROTTI, REPORTER: Right now, in most of the country, it's pretty cold. COLD GIRL: Think of somewhere warm. What? It's 32 degrees in Darwin in the middle of winter? But ah, yeah. There are some places where it's, well, quite warm. Which makes you wonder whether the weather actually matches the seasons. You see, Australia is pretty big, and we have lots of different weather patterns. Which is something First Nations people have tracked for thousands of years with their own seasonal calendars. KARL WINDA TELFER, CULTURAL CREATIVE KANYANYAPILLA: Why have we got four seasons when you know that don't make any sense here. It doesn't relate to the country here. This is Karl Telfer. He's an artist and storyteller who produced the Kuri Kurru exhibition at the Museum of Discovery in Adelaide that explores the 6 different seasons of the Kaurna Meyunna. SASKIA MORTAROTTI: So, how do you know when you're in one of those six seasons? KARL WINDA TELFER: Well, there are stars that rise. So, you know, there are certain stars, like in Parnatti, for example. There's a star called Parna, and we know what that star is. So, that talks to us about, okay, the time now is going to be cold on the ground. First Nations calendars like the Kaurna one don't just tell us what's happening with the weather; they're also used to track when certain plants and animals are around. KARL WINDA TELFER: It teaches you about what plants you can, you know, what you can eat what you can't and all that what is ready certain times a year and fruit everything, bird shows you the right time to eat the fruit, perfect time, if you try and go get them the next week they're gone. Karl says we can also use these calendars to see how the environment has changed over time. KARL WINDA TELFER: Kudlilla is the season we're in now and Kudlilla that talks about like the rain but we're not having enough rain these days, well, these times. And this is due to climate and the climate changing. There are many different First Nations seasonal calendars around the country. Like Ngan'gi calendar from the Northern Territory which has 13 seasons that follow the life cycle of the native spear grass. Or the Wurundjeri Calendar in Victoria which has 6 seasons. And recently, Melbourne's Lord Mayor, Nicholas Reece, said Melbourne, or Naarm, would be better off adopting the Wurundjeri calendar because it's more in tune to what's happening with the weather. Something many, including Karl, think we should be doing right across the country. KARL WINDA TELFER: I'm talking about the English four seasons. So, this is totally different systems that we're talking about and weather patterns and currents and all sorts of different things, because it's the sea country too. So, my question is, well, why do we have that? If that doesn't work, you know? Quiz How many seasons are there in the Tiwi Island Calendar? 1, 2 or 3? It's 3, although they also have 13 minor seasons. Book Week Reporter: Wren Gillett INTRO: This week, kids across Australia have been dressing up as their favourite characters to celebrate Book Week. Wren finds out why Book Week began 80 years ago and why it's still important today for getting young Aussies into reading. STUDENT: I read an hour every night, maybe even two hours some nights. STUDENT: My favourite book series are the Harry Potter series and the Keeper of the Lost City series. STUDENT: Probably Bad Guys and Weirdo. STUDENT: I like the Amulet, I've been reading that. STUDENT: I love reading Dork Diaries and Exploding Endings. Whether it's Fantasy, mystery, history â whatever you're into. Book week is a time to celebrate, well, books. STUDENT: Me and my friends are dressing up as Inside Out. STUDENT: I was thinking SpongeBob. STUDENT: I'm dressing up as Winnie the Pooh and it's just a fun way to express what kind of books you like. And guess what, book week has actually been a thing for many, many years. WREN GILLETT, REPORTER: Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, literacy lovers noticed a problem. The year was 1945. The second World War had just ended, and kids were mainly reading books from overseas, in particular the UK. Because, at the time, there weren't many Aussie authors writing books for children. WREN GILLETT: So, a group of passionate teachers, librarians, booksellers, publishers, and book-loving volunteers, decided to create what we now know as The Children's Book Council of Australia. Familiar logo, right? Together, they launched book week, all in an effort to get Aussie kids' reading more. And it seemed to work. The 1960s saw a boom in Australian children's books being published. REPORTER: How many books do you read a week? STUDENT: Well, it really depends on the week. If there's exams, I might read only one or two. But if there's no exams and if I've got plenty of time, I might read up to five or six. WREN GILLETT: But today, it's a slightly different story. Studies show that less than one in five eight to 18-year-olds are reading in their free time, and that only one in three actually enjoy reading for fun. WREN GILLETT: Why do you reckon we're seeing this trend? STUDENT: People are getting sucked into screens and they're like spending hours just scrolling through TikTok and stuff, and they're getting so attached to it that they don't feel the need to pick up books and read them. Yeah, there's a lot of different things competing for our attention these days, but many think books are still worth our time. PETER HELLIER, AUSSIE COMEDIAN AND AUTHOR: Books are the exact opposite of boring. And if you think they're boring, I'm sorry, but you're wrong. This is Peter Hellier, he's a pretty famous Aussie comedian, actor, and the author behind these books. And he's just released another one called Detective Galileo, about a trail horse who dreams of solving crimes. PETER HELLIER: He joins the police force and quickly finds out that the horses don't actually solve the crimes, it's the police officers who solve the crime. So he promptly gets thrown out of the force and begins his own detective agency, which I'm reliably told is the only detective agency in the world run by a horse. Peter actually started writing books when he was a kid. PETER HELLIER: I started writing when I was six, seven, eight years old. In fact, I started my own publishing company called Better Books. And I would write these books, and then I would get a parent or one of my parents or teachers to type them up. And I would read them in front of the class. And, you see, each has the logo, the Better Books logo, there it is â the famous Better Books logo. WREN GILLETT: You weren't mucking around. PETER HELLIER: There all on all of them. There we go. There we go. Many, Including Peter, say there's plenty to get from a good book. They help us learn new words and phrases, get a better understanding of the world around us, and strengthen our imaginations. PETER HELLIER: Books can take you absolutely anywhere. They can take you to countries that you never dreamed about going. Countries that exist, countries that don't exist. Reading just makes the world a much bigger place. It's why for the past 80 years, schools around the country have been taking part in book week. STUDENT: Reading is a place where you can have your own world just to yourself. STUDENT: It's like watching a movie inside your head, but you can choose how it goes. STUDENT: Picking up a book is a good idea, maybe you should start with something that you're interested with and then you can start exploring from there. Quiz What is the title of the book that took out this year's Book of the year Award for younger readers? It's Laughter is the Best Endingby Maryam Master. Some other winners included I'm not really here by Gary Loneborough which took out book of the year for older readers and best picture book went to The Truck Cat, by Deborah Frenkel. Sport Australia's men's national basketball team â the Boomers â have won their third Asia Cup in a row, with an epically narrow victory over China. COMMENTATOR: It is Australia who are celebrating! China started strong, leading 25-17 at quarter time. But Aussie Xavier Cooks led a fierce comeback, shooting 30 points and collecting nine rebounds, earning him the title of MVP. And there seriously couldn't have been a tighter finish. Just as the final buzzer went off, China missed a shot that would have won them the game, leaving Australia with a 90-89 victory. COMMENTATOR: An unbelievable finish. The 2025 AFLW season kicked off last week, and so did a new trick. Yeah, 19-year-old Ash Centra from Collingwood, pulled out this move in the warm-up before their season-opener to Carlton, and since then, a lot of people have been trying to do it, with some success, kind of? FOOTY PLAYER: No, I'm not doing it on camera. But despite the epic warmup, Carlton did end up beating Collingwood by 24 points. Now, the moves from these athletes in China weren't quite so graceful but give 'em a break, okay, they're robots. For the first time ever, humanoid robots from all over the world, competed in their very own games, which featured, soccer, boxing, running, and ahh, lots of falling over. Lots. Luckily though, they did bring their own cheer squad. Young Rapper Reporter: Rylie INTRO: Finally, we're going to meet another winner of this year's Heywire competition â which asks young people in regional areas to share their stories. Rylie's going to tell us how music helped to transform his life. Check it out. Mum and I were homeless. We lived at a caravan park, in motels and tents around Warrnambool. It wasn't pretty. I'm First Nations, and I remember feeling like, my own country is failing me right now. So, we camped right along here. I remember pitching a tent right here and this was actually around the same time I started to get into music which was a good way for me to have something to look forward to. I was raised by the SoundCloud era, listening to a lot of trap music. When I was in school, I'd rap along to songs by Juice World, then I started to make my own. My first track was recorded on my phone. It was bad but a lot of fun to make. Some kids in my school heard it and shamed me. That put me off music for the next couple of years, until a friend of mine bought a microphone and encouraged me to give it another go. There was something about that mic and the energy of the crew around me that gave me confidence. It lit a fire in me. Over time, I was able to focus my flow. My songs are about escapism, living the life, being a success. I rap about stuff that takes me to a better place in my head. I'm manifesting my future. My stage name is Hundo Milli, it's short for hundreds of millions. Money's not really the end goal; it's more about having the freedom to dream big. Mum taught me to never stop believing. Even when times were tough, she kept pushing for us to get housing and eventually we did. We're some of the lucky ones. Today, I'm in a Melbourne studio recording my next single. I remember living in my tent dreaming about this very moment and now I'm here, doing what I love. Ain't nothing going to stop me. Closer Well, that's all we've got for you today, but we'll be back before you know it. In the meantime, you can head to our website, there's plenty to see and do. You can also catch Newsbreak every weeknight and there's BTN High for all you highschoolers out there. Have an awesome week and I'll see you next time. Bye.L'attentato alle Torri Gemelle dell'11 settembre 2001 è stato orchestrato dall'organizzazione terroristica al-Qaida, guidata da Osama bin Laden. Al-Qaida, un gruppo estremista islamico, aveva l'obiettivo di colpire gli Stati Uniti per una serie di motivi, tra cui la loro presenza militare in Medio Oriente, il sostegno a Israele e le politiche economiche e geopolitiche percepite come oppressive nei confronti dei Paesi musulmani. L'attacco ha coinvolto 19 terroristi, che hanno dirottato quattro aerei commerciali: due hanno colpito le Torri Gemelle a New York, un altro il Pentagono vicino a Washington, D.C., mentre il quarto, United Airlines Flight 93, è precipitato in un campo in Pennsylvania dopo che i passeggeri hanno tentato di riprendere il controllo dell'aereo. Osama bin Laden ha rivendicato la responsabilitĂ dell'attentato, che ha provocato circa 3.000 morti e ha avuto un impatto duraturo sulla politica internazionale, portando alle guerre in Afghanistan e Iraq e a significativi cambiamenti nella sicurezza globale Il fatto che quattro aerei dirottati siano riusciti a deviare dalla loro rotta senza un immediato intervento da parte delle autoritĂ aeree è legato a una serie di fattori: 1. **Dirottamenti inattesi**: Prima dell'11 settembre 2001, il protocollo per gestire i dirottamenti aerei era molto diverso. I dirottamenti aerei, quando accadevano, di solito erano gestiti attraverso negoziazioni e si presumeva che i dirottatori cercassero principalmente attenzione o denaro, non attacchi suicidi. Non c'era una preparazione specifica per l'eventualitĂ che gli aerei venissero usati come armi. 2. **Interruzione delle comunicazioni**: I dirottatori hanno spento i transponder sugli aerei (dispositivi che inviano segnali radar con informazioni su altitudine e posizione), rendendo difficile per i controllori del traffico aereo tracciare con precisione gli aerei. Gli aerei risultavano ancora visibili sui radar primari, ma senza i dati specifici del transponder era difficile capire immediatamente che c'era una deviazione fuori rotta. 3. **Tempo di reazione**: Gli eventi si sono svolti in un breve arco di tempo. I primi segni di problemi sui voli sono emersi intorno alle 8:14 (con l'American Airlines Flight 11), e il primo schianto contro la Torre Nord è avvenuto alle 8:46. Tra l'inizio dei dirottamenti e gli impatti, il tempo per reagire è stato limitato. La portata dell'attacco era senza precedenti, e nessuno si aspettava che i dirottatori avrebbero usato gli aerei come armi contro obiettivi civili. 4. **Coordination failures**: Anche se ci sono stati segnali di problemi, la comunicazione tra le varie agenzie coinvolte (Federal Aviation Administration, NORAD, ecc.) non era ottimale. La procedura per attivare la difesa aerea in caso di dirottamento era complessa, e la possibilitĂ che aerei civili venissero utilizzati come armi suicide non era contemplata nei protocolli. 5. **NORAD e tempi di risposta**: Il NORAD (North American Aerospace Defense Command), incaricato della difesa aerea, aveva una capacitĂ limitata di intercettare rapidamente aerei dirottati nello spazio aereo interno. Prima dell'11 settembre, le operazioni di difesa erano concentrate su possibili minacce esterne, e non su attacchi interni. Anche quando i caccia furono inviati, era troppo tardi per impedire gli impatti. Questi fattori, combinati con l'incredulitĂ che un tale attacco potesse realmente accadere, hanno reso possibile che quattro aerei fossero dirottati e usati come armi senza un intervento preventivo efficace. Dopo l'11 settembre, furono apportati significativi cambiamenti ai protocolli di sicurezza aerea per prevenire simili attacchi in futuro. L'idea che l'11 settembre abbia fornito un "pretesto" per attaccare l'Afghanistan è stata ipotizzata da diverse teorie del complotto e punti di vista critici sulla politica estera degli Stati Uniti. Tuttavia, è importante distinguere tra i fatti documentati e le ipotesi non verificate. ### Fatti documentati: 1. **Al-Qaida e Osama bin Laden**: Gli attacchi dell'11 settembre sono stati rivendicati da al-Qaida, che aveva il suo quartier generale in Afghanistan sotto la protezione del regime talebano. Gli Stati Uniti hanno chiesto ai talebani di consegnare Osama bin Laden, ma il governo talebano ha rifiutato. Questo ha portato all'intervento militare in Afghanistan con l'obiettivo dichiarato di smantellare al-Qaida e rimuovere i talebani dal potere. 2. **Legittimazione internazionale**: L'invasione dell'Afghanistan è stata ampiamente appoggiata a livello internazionale, con il sostegno delle Nazioni Unite e della NATO. Il Consiglio di Sicurezza delle Nazioni Unite ha approvato risoluzioni che condannavano gli attacchi e riconoscevano il diritto di difesa degli Stati Uniti. ### Teorie del complotto: Alcuni teorici sostengono che l'11 settembre potrebbe essere stato usato come pretesto per giustificare una guerra che rientrava in piĂš ampi interessi geopolitici. Secondo questa visione, l'invasione dell'Afghanistan non riguardava solo la lotta contro il terrorismo, ma anche: - **Influenza geopolitica**: Gli Stati Uniti avrebbero cercato di stabilire una maggiore presenza militare e influenza in una regione strategica, vicina a Paesi come l'Iran, la Cina e la Russia. - **Risorse naturali**: L'Afghanistan ha un'importanza geopolitica anche per i suoi potenziali corridoi energetici e per le sue risorse minerarie, anche se non ha ricchezze petrolifere significative come altri Paesi del Medio Oriente. ### Critiche legittime: Al di lĂ delle teorie del complotto, ci sono critiche legittime alla risposta degli Stati Uniti e all'espansione della guerra al terrorismo. Ad esempio: - **La guerra in Iraq**: Mentre l'invasione dell'Afghanistan fu largamente supportata, l'invasione dell'Iraq nel 2003 fu molto piĂš controversa. Molti analisti ritengono che l'amministrazione Bush abbia sfruttato la paura generata dall'11 settembre per giustificare un attacco all'Iraq, anche se non c'erano prove concrete di un collegamento tra il regime di Saddam Hussein e al-Qaida. - **Durata della guerra**: La guerra in Afghanistan si è trasformata in un conflitto di lunga durata, che molti vedono come fallimentare, con risultati incerti nonostante il grande impegno militare ed economico. ### Conclusione: Sebbene sia possibile che alcune figure politiche o militari abbiano sfruttato l'attacco dell'11 settembre per portare avanti agende geopolitiche preesistenti, i fatti storici mostrano che l'invasione dell'Afghanistan fu una reazione diretta agli attacchi e alla minaccia di al-Qaida. Le decisioni successive, in particolare l'espansione della "guerra al terrorismo", sono state oggetto di forti critiche e controversie, ma non ci sono prove concrete che l'11 settembre sia stato pianificato o lasciato accadere per giustificare un'invasione. La **caduta delle Torri Gemelle** l'11 settembre 2001 è stata causata principalmente dai **danni strutturali provocati dall'impatto degli aerei e dal conseguente incendio**, secondo le indagini ufficiali. Le teorie che ipotizzano l'uso di esplosivi sono state ampiamente investigate ma smentite dalle analisi tecniche e dalle prove disponibili. ### Versione ufficiale: 1. **Impatto degli aerei**: Gli aerei di linea colpirono le Torri Gemelle a una velocitĂ molto elevata, causando danni immediati e significativi alle colonne portanti esterne e interne degli edifici. Questi danni strutturali compromettevano giĂ parte della stabilitĂ delle torri. 2. **Incendi**: L'impatto degli aerei ha causato l'esplosione del carburante contenuto nei serbatoi, innescando vasti incendi. Il calore generato dagli incendi all'interno degli edifici raggiunse temperature estremamente elevate (fino a 1000°C o piĂš), che indebolirono ulteriormente l'acciaio delle strutture portanti. 3. **Cedimento strutturale**: L'acciaio non deve necessariamente fondere per perdere la sua capacitĂ portante; a temperature elevate, l'acciaio diventa piĂš malleabile e perde resistenza. Questo, unito al danno meccanico giĂ causato dall'impatto degli aerei, ha portato al cedimento progressivo delle strutture superiori, che sono collassate sui piani inferiori in una sorta di effetto domino. Questo spiega il "crollo verticale" delle torri. ### Investigazioni tecniche: 1. **Rapporto del NIST**: Il **National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST)** ha condotto un'indagine approfondita sulla caduta delle torri. Secondo il rapporto del NIST, **non ci sono prove** che suggeriscano l'uso di esplosivi o ordigni nei crolli delle torri. I crolli sono stati attribuiti esclusivamente ai danni strutturali causati dagli impatti e agli incendi successivi. 2. **Simulazioni e analisi**: Gli ingegneri hanno simulato il comportamento degli edifici durante l'attacco e hanno concluso che l'indebolimento delle strutture portanti a causa del calore è stato sufficiente a spiegare il collasso. Il crollo avvenne in maniera progressiva e non con le caratteristiche di una demolizione controllata, come l'uso di esplosivi. ### Teorie del complotto: Nonostante le spiegazioni tecniche ufficiali, alcune persone sostengono che il crollo sia stato causato da esplosivi piazzati all'interno delle torri. Queste teorie si basano su: - **Testimonianze di esplosioni**: Alcune persone hanno riportato di aver sentito rumori di esplosioni prima o durante i crolli. Tuttavia, gli esperti hanno spiegato che questi rumori possono essere attribuiti a numerosi fattori, come i cedimenti strutturali e le esplosioni secondarie dovute al cedimento di infrastrutture interne (ad esempio, serbatoi di gas o trasformatori elettrici). - **Crollo simmetrico**: Alcuni teorici sostengono che il crollo delle torri sia stato troppo "ordinato" per essere casuale. Tuttavia, il collasso verticale è stato spiegato come il risultato del cedimento simultaneo di piĂš colonne portanti indebolite dal calore. - **Teoria del crollo controllato**: Alcuni sostengono che le torri siano cadute con la rapiditĂ e la precisione di una demolizione controllata. Tuttavia, studi dettagliati del NIST e altre organizzazioni non hanno trovato alcuna prova di esplosivi o segni di una demolizione pianificata. ### Conclusione: Le indagini ufficiali e i rapporti tecnici indicano chiaramente che il crollo delle Torri Gemelle è stato causato dagli impatti degli aerei e dai successivi incendi che hanno indebolito la struttura, portando al collasso progressivo. Le teorie che ipotizzano l'uso di esplosivi sono state esaminate ma non supportate da prove concrete. L'11 settembre 2001 ha avuto un impatto profondo anche sulla musica, influenzando artisti di diversi generi e portandoli a esprimere il dolore, la rabbia, la riflessione e la speranza che l'evento ha generato. La musica ha raccontato l'episodio da diverse prospettive, esplorando sia il trauma individuale che quello collettivo, e offrendo una forma di guarigione o commemorazione per chi l'ha vissuto. ### Canzoni che hanno affrontato l'11 settembre: 1. **Bruce Springsteen â "The Rising" (2002)** Questo album è uno dei piĂš emblematici legati all'11 settembre. La title track, "The Rising", racconta la storia di un pompiere che sale verso le Torri Gemelle e riflette sul sacrificio e la speranza. L'intero album esplora i temi della perdita e della resilienza attraverso il prisma dell'America post-11 settembre, e rappresenta una sorta di catarsi per molte persone che hanno cercato conforto nella musica. 2. **Paul McCartney â "Freedom" (2001)** Paul McCartney era a New York il giorno degli attacchi e ha scritto questa canzone in risposta, cercando di trasmettere un messaggio di forza e resistenza. "Freedom" è stata eseguita al concerto benefico **"The Concert for New York City"**, un evento organizzato per raccogliere fondi per le vittime dell'attacco e celebrare il coraggio dei soccorritori. 3. **Toby Keith â "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American)" (2002)** Questa canzone country ha rappresentato il lato piĂš patriottico e arrabbiato della reazione americana agli attentati. Toby Keith esprime il desiderio di giustizia (o vendetta), e la canzone è diventata molto popolare tra coloro che volevano una risposta forte agli attacchi. Sebbene controversa per i suoi toni duri, ha rappresentato una parte significativa del sentimento nazionale. 4. **Alan Jackson â "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)" (2001)** Questa ballata country ha cercato di catturare lo shock, la confusione e il dolore collettivo che l'11 settembre ha causato. La canzone pone domande che molti si sono fatti: "Dov'eri quando il mondo si è fermato?" Il tono è riflessivo e malinconico, ed è diventata una delle canzoni piĂš ricordate che trattano direttamente dell'evento. 5. **U2 â "Walk On" (2001)** Sebbene scritta prima dell'11 settembre, "Walk On" è diventata una sorta di inno di resilienza dopo l'attacco. U2 ha dedicato diverse performance della canzone alle vittime dell'11 settembre, e il testo, che parla di andare avanti di fronte alle avversitĂ , è stato interpretato come un messaggio di forza per chi cercava di ricostruire la propria vita. 6. **Neil Young â "Letâs Roll" (2001)** Questa canzone è stata ispirata dagli atti eroici dei passeggeri del volo United 93, che si sono ribellati contro i dirottatori, impedendo che l'aereo colpisse un obiettivo a terra. La frase "Let's roll" era ciò che uno dei passeggeri, Todd Beamer, ha detto mentre guidava la ribellione. Neil Young ha scritto questo brano per onorare quei passeggeri coraggiosi. ### Concerti e eventi musicali commemorativi: - **The Concert for New York City (2001)** Subito dopo gli attacchi, questo grande concerto benefico si è tenuto al Madison Square Garden per raccogliere fondi a favore delle vittime e per rendere omaggio ai soccorritori. Vi hanno partecipato artisti come Paul McCartney, The Who, Mick Jagger, David Bowie e molti altri. L'evento è stato una celebrazione dell'unitĂ e della solidarietĂ di fronte alla tragedia. - **America: A Tribute to Heroes (2001)** Questo telethon, trasmesso a livello nazionale, ha visto la partecipazione di artisti come Bruce Springsteen, U2, Celine Dion e molti altri. Lo scopo era quello di raccogliere fondi per le vittime e i loro familiari, e molte delle performance erano riflessive e piene di emozione, offrendo un momento di unitĂ e commiserazione collettiva. ### Effetti sullâindustria musicale: L'11 settembre ha avuto anche un impatto diretto sull'industria musicale: - **Censura e sensibilitĂ **: Molte canzoni che potevano essere considerate inappropriate o troppo aggressive dopo l'11 settembre furono temporaneamente rimosse dalle playlist radiofoniche, come "Imagine" di John Lennon (per il suo messaggio pacifista) o "New York, New York" di Frank Sinatra, per il legame con la cittĂ colpita. - **Modifiche ai testi e alle copertine**: Alcuni artisti modificarono testi o copertine di album che potevano sembrare insensibili o inappropriate nel clima post-11 settembre. Ad esempio, i Dream Theater cambiarono la copertina del loro album "Live Scenes from New York" perchĂŠ raffigurava il World Trade Center in fiamme, una coincidenza che uscĂŹ pochi giorni prima degli attacchi. ### Conclusione: La musica ha offerto un modo per elaborare il trauma dell'11 settembre, sia attraverso canzoni che commemorano i caduti, sia con inni che hanno ispirato resistenza e speranza. Artisti di ogni genere hanno interpretato l'evento in modi diversi, riflettendo la complessitĂ delle emozioni che ha suscitato, dall'angoscia e la perdita alla forza e la solidarietĂ . SĂŹ, le **Dixie Chicks** (oggi conosciute come **The Chicks**) hanno avuto notevoli problemi, ma non per aver trattato direttamente il tema dell'11 settembre. I problemi che hanno affrontato sono legati alle loro critiche alla guerra in Iraq e alla presidenza di **George W. Bush**, che erano strettamente connesse al clima politico post-11 settembre. ### Contesto: Nel marzo 2003, durante un concerto a Londra, la cantante **Natalie Maines**, frontwoman delle Dixie Chicks, fece una dichiarazione che scatenò una controversia a livello nazionale negli Stati Uniti. Mentre l'invasione dell'Iraq era imminente, Maines disse al pubblico: > **"Just so you know, weâre ashamed that the President of the United States is from Texas."** Questa dichiarazione era una critica diretta al presidente **George W. Bush**, nato in Texas come Maines e il resto della band. La critica arrivava in un momento in cui il patriottismo e il sostegno alla guerra erano fortemente presenti negli Stati Uniti, specialmente nel Sud, dove le Dixie Chicks avevano una vasta base di fan nella comunitĂ country. ### Conseguenze: 1. **Boicottaggi e censure**: Dopo il commento di Maines, molte stazioni radio, soprattutto quelle country, **boicottarono le Dixie Chicks**, rimuovendo le loro canzoni dalle playlist. In alcune parti degli Stati Uniti, i fan organizzarono pubblici **roghi dei loro album**. 2. **Perdita di supporto nel mondo country**: La comunitĂ della musica country, che spesso riflette valori patriottici e conservatori, si rivolse contro di loro. Molti artisti e fan country criticarono duramente le Dixie Chicks per aver espresso opinioni contro la guerra e contro il presidente in un momento in cui il sostegno alla leadership nazionale era considerato importante. 3. **Minacce e ostilitĂ **: Le Dixie Chicks ricevettero **minacce di morte** e furono soggette a intense campagne di odio. Questo dimostrò quanto fossero polarizzate le opinioni politiche negli Stati Uniti all'epoca, specialmente nell'industria della musica country. 4. **Carriera messa in pausa**: Dopo la controversia, la loro carriera negli Stati Uniti subĂŹ un grave colpo. Le vendite dei loro album calarono, e per diversi anni furono considerate una "band alienata" dall'industria country. Tuttavia, il gruppo trovò maggiore supporto nel pubblico internazionale e in generi musicali non tradizionalmente legati al country. ### La risposta delle Dixie Chicks: Le Dixie Chicks risposero alla controversia con coraggio e determinazione. Nel 2006, pubblicarono l'album **"Taking the Long Way"**, che includeva la famosa canzone **"Not Ready to Make Nice"**. Questo brano affrontava direttamente le critiche ricevute e il loro rifiuto di scusarsi per aver espresso le proprie opinioni. > **"Not Ready to Make Nice"** fu un grande successo e vinse diversi Grammy Awards, incluso quello per il **Miglior Album dell'Anno** e la **Canzone dell'Anno**. L'album rappresentava un chiaro messaggio: non erano pronte a cedere alla pressione e non si scusavano per aver esercitato la loro libertĂ di espressione. ### Riflessione sulla controversia: La controversia rifletteva una tensione piĂš ampia nella societĂ americana post-11 settembre, dove il patriottismo era visto da molti come un valore sacro e la critica alle politiche governative, specialmente riguardo alla guerra, poteva essere percepita come un tradimento. Le Dixie Chicks divennero un simbolo di questa polarizzazione e del conflitto tra libertĂ di espressione e patriottismo. ### Conclusione: Sebbene le Dixie Chicks non abbiano trattato direttamente l'11 settembre, la loro critica alla guerra in Iraq e a George W. Bush, strettamente connessa agli eventi post-11 settembre, portò a una delle piĂš grandi controversie nella storia della musica country. Tuttavia, con il tempo, il gruppo è riuscito a superare le difficoltĂ e ha ottenuto una sorta di redenzione artistica e pubblica, guadagnando il rispetto di molti per la loro integritĂ e il loro coraggio nel difendere le proprie opinioni. SĂŹ, i **Green Day** hanno trattato indirettamente i temi legati all'11 settembre e le sue conseguenze, soprattutto attraverso il loro album piĂš famoso, **"American Idiot"** (2004). L'album non affronta direttamente gli attacchi dell'11 settembre, ma esplora il clima politico e sociale che si è sviluppato negli Stati Uniti dopo gli attentati, in particolare la guerra in Iraq, il patriottismo estremo e la manipolazione dei media. ### Contesto di "American Idiot": "American Idiot" è un concept album che segue un personaggio chiamato **Jesus of Suburbia**, che rappresenta la frustrazione e l'alienazione della generazione cresciuta nell'America post-11 settembre. L'album racconta una storia di rabbia, disillusione e ribellione contro il governo, i media e la societĂ americana dell'epoca. ### Temi principali legati all'11 settembre e alle sue conseguenze: 1. **Critica ai media e alla manipolazione dell'informazione**: - La title track, **"American Idiot"**, critica aspramente la manipolazione dei media e il modo in cui la societĂ americana è stata spinta verso un patriottismo cieco e un clima di paura. La canzone si scaglia contro l'idea che gli americani vengano indotti a seguire passivamente le direttive dei media e del governo, un tema strettamente legato alla narrazione post-11 settembre e alla propaganda che ha accompagnato la guerra in Iraq. > "Don't wanna be an American idiot, Don't want a nation under the new media." Qui, la band esprime il loro disgusto per l'influenza della propaganda mediatica e la crescente polarizzazione politica. 2. **Disillusione verso il governo e la guerra**: - Il brano **"Holiday"** è una feroce critica alla guerra in Iraq e alla politica estera dell'amministrazione Bush, spesso vista come una conseguenza diretta degli attacchi dell'11 settembre. La canzone denuncia l'ipocrisia e l'aviditĂ che, secondo i Green Day, hanno guidato la decisione di invadere l'Iraq. > "This is the dawning of the rest of our lives, On holiday." Il termine "holiday" viene usato sarcasticamente per indicare una pausa dalla realtĂ , mentre la guerra viene condotta senza una giustificazione morale valida. 3. **Riflessioni sulla paura e l'ansia della generazione post-11 settembre**: - **"Boulevard of Broken Dreams"** esplora temi piĂš personali di alienazione e solitudine, ma riflette anche l'ansia e la disillusione che molti americani, specialmente giovani, hanno provato nell'era post-11 settembre. Il senso di isolamento e la perdita di speranza di Jesus of Suburbia rappresentano simbolicamente il malessere di una generazione confusa e incerta sul futuro. > "I walk a lonely road, The only one that I have ever known." 4. **Rabbia verso l'apatia sociale**: - In **"Wake Me Up When September Ends"**, molti hanno visto una connessione simbolica con gli attacchi dell'11 settembre. Sebbene la canzone sia stata scritta dal frontman **Billie Joe Armstrong** come una riflessione personale sulla morte di suo padre, è diventata una sorta di inno per chiunque cercasse di elaborare il dolore e il trauma degli eventi del 2001. L'uso di "September" nel titolo ha portato molti a collegare il brano agli eventi dell'11 settembre e al desiderio di superare quel periodo buio. > "Here comes the rain again, Falling from the stars, Drenched in my pain again, Becoming who we are." La canzone evoca sentimenti di perdita e desiderio di guarigione, temi che risuonano con l'atmosfera post-attentati. ### Impatto di "American Idiot": "American Idiot" è stato un successo enorme e ha avuto un impatto culturale significativo. L'album ha dato voce a una generazione di giovani disillusi dalla politica americana e dalla guerra, riflettendo il malcontento diffuso verso l'amministrazione Bush e il modo in cui il paese aveva reagito agli eventi dell'11 settembre. Il successo dell'album ha portato anche alla produzione di un musical omonimo, che ha continuato a esplorare questi temi. ### Conclusione: I Green Day non hanno trattato direttamente gli attacchi dell'11 settembre, ma il loro album "American Idiot" è una risposta critica alle conseguenze politiche e sociali di quell'evento, in particolare la guerra in Iraq, la manipolazione dei media e la disillusione dei giovani. L'album è stato un potente veicolo di protesta contro il clima politico dell'epoca e ha dato voce alla frustrazione di molti americani.Celebrating Our National Hero: Andres Bonifacio