Perhaps there’s another way to look at this…

Imagine a young Arabic male who lives a simple, humble life in a tiny, hopeless village with dreams of leaving one day in order to enjoy a better life in America…only to have U.S. Troops bomb his village in their search for insurgents, killing his innocent Aunt and Uncle in the process. He meets a radical old sheik who tells him about an ancient form of Islam and sends him to an Al Qaeda training camp, where he is recruited to be a pilot in a coordinated attack against an enormous structure on American home turf, a symbol of U.S. pride, power and dominance. The spectacular attack is successful and the structure is destroyed, leaving a devastating amount of people dead.

Later, America strikes back, destroying Al Qaeda bases and chasing them into hiding in a remote and brutal land. Using remote probes and ground forces, the U.S. troops pursue the terrorists, sending them fleeing in different directions, splitting up their heirarchy and cutting off their communication. Some of the terrorists are captured and tortured at a foreign island facility in a relatively pleasant climate more suitable for vacation and relaxation, but where an American garrison is stationed against the will of the local leader.

Later, American forces amass in yet another land to launch a final assault — a surge — against the terrorists, who have quietly infilitrated this once neutral land and have convinced the locals into using primative devices and improvised weapons in attacking the Americans, employing run-and-gun guerilla tactics. Many of the locals die. So do many of the Americans. Most of the foreign terrorists survive and celebrate the love.

And…scene.