I don’t know why I do it.
I’m watching the replay of the NBC coverage of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attack on the World Trade Centers. All the emotion and memories come welling back to me as if it happened 1o minutes ago….
… Hey Honey, I just heard a report that a commuter plane crashed into one of the World Trade Center buildings…
…I took a bathroom break to return to Kyle saying, “Dude. You’d better call your sister! The fucking tower just fell.”
My sister was in the World Financial Center, across the street, and for 4 hours that day we didn’t know if she had made it out. My connection is so peripheral and minor… I’ve met dozens of others who had family in the actual buildings.
… I think of Art Spiegelman’s “In the Shadow of No Towers”… That man just bleeds his emotions into his art. How would it have been to be IN New York, on the ground?
We huddled around the TV all morning within the offices of Cooper Power Systems, safely ensconced in a rural office in Waukesha, Wisconsin.
Katie Couric: “You can imagine what it must be like, closer to the Trade Centers… a New York landmine…er….landmark.” How Freudian.
And I watch , and watch, and watch. There is something so powerfully cathartic about touching these deep (and, quite frankly) suppressed emotions. Luke…. there has been a powerful disturbance in the force. The sensation that thousands of humans were dying before my eyes was, and remains, unfathomable.
And for what? For a belief that your God will reward you? For belief that it is righteous to kill those who believe differently? For superstitions? Please, let us escape the insanity of religiously motivated mayhem.
Vonnegut chimes in from the grave, “You’re writing an anti-war book? You might as well write an “anti-glacier” book!”