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Osama bin Laden… well, you know who the hell he is, was killed at the spry age of 54.

For almost 10 years after 9/11, bin Laden remained well hidden. And we found him in the most unlikely place. Apparently, he moved to South Boston; put an apostrophe in his name, changing it to O’Sama and instead of calling Americans “infidels,” he just said that they were “wicked queeah.” He blended right in.

His compound was raided by the SEALS and the CIA who, after a 45 minute gun battle, shot bin Laden in the eye: Mo Green style. You don’t come to town and treat a man like Mo Green Like that. But you do treat O’Sama like that.

Most of the day, I’ve been elated by this news. At some points, I stopped and wondered if it was OK to be so jubilant about someone’s death. The answer is an emphatic “Yes.”

I started to remember. Sitting in an office that day with 12 other grown adults. All weeping.

I remembered being in Grand Central Station later that week. Seeing all the walls erected in the middle of the grand concourse so that people could hang thousands and thousands of “Missing” flyers. Looking at this collage, you knew that the people who hung them realized that their loved ones were dead. But they needed to, at least, pretend to have hope. It was the only way they could deal with such a loss.

While we here at Ghoul Pool Headquarters poke fun at death and those who have died, we never truly revel in their deaths. So forgive the exception.

This hit goes to: Carol! Yes, O’Sama was born in March, so beware the Ides! She is catapulted from zero to third place. Now, if he could die two more times, something that I would gladly give the points for, Carol would be tied for first!

Happy Pooling, SPMI


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