The city argued that to hear people in anguish in their last minutes constitutes invasion of privacy. The truth is that the callers had no interest in privacy; they were desperate to be heard, and censoring them now is a last insult by a bureaucracy that failed to protect them in the first place.Um, Garrision, when were you anointed the knower of all truth?
[T]he first thing we thought, seeing the burning buildings on TV was: What is it like for the people in there?” We wanted to know.
No, Garrison, we didn’t. You did. You’re the ghoul, not us. Did the thought ever occur in that split-pea-sized brain of yours that perhaps, just perhaps, the families of those who died might not want their husbands, wives, parents, children and friends final anguish to be that for which they are remembered?
Nah. Of course not. They’re just hicks; not the nuanced elite. They don’t count. This is too important for them to matter. Besides, it’s a delicious opportunity to slam the President:
[I]nevitably, politicians began to seize the day and turn it into a patriotic tableau starring Themselves.... [A] few days later the Current Occupant mounted the wreckage with bullhorn in hand and vowed vengance, and the media were glad to focus on the martial moment ...
Garrison Keillor, you’re a ghoul, a vampire, a voyeur. You lack humanity; you discredit the human race.
