After 9/11, we were told to expect subsequent attacks. We were told on a daily basis just how safe we were supposed to feel. Even if the threat was not genuine, the tension and fear that political leaders and the media instilled in us, perhaps to make us feel dependent on them, wound us up every day. We were upset. We wanted to punch something, but there was nothing to hit, except for each other and ourselves.

Images of the towers falling, clouds of dust filling city streets became very familiar. Anything similar became provocative and taboo. As I thought about this and my need for an outlet to deal with my own anxiety, I thought about the Hulk in the middle of a sandstorm. What would he do? Would he try to fight it? Would he dig down deep enough to find refuge? Or would he leap so high and far that he would leave it all behind?

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