As I’ve mentioned at several points over the last few years, I’ve largely wrung dry my supply of insightful things to say about the events of September 11, 2001. I believe I even pledged at one point that I’d stop commemorating it here to avoid the risk of laboriously rehashing something or diminishing its meaning and impact (so much for that, I guess). But I stumbled across a few relevant items in the past couple of days that I felt were worth sharing.
Although normally renowned for its highbrow brand of absurdist snark, McSweeny’s just published a speech given by writer/comedian John Hodgman, a name you might remember for his contributions to “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.” These remarks — made by a man normally known for a dry, erudite brand of wit — date back to a literary reading he participated in just days after the towers fell. The effect is not unlike the atmosphere captured on Laurie Anderson’s document, Live at Town Hall NYC, recorded during those same, fraught days. With poise and eloquence, Hodgman addresses the palpable, harrowing malaise in the wake of unspeakable events, speaking with candor and humility about the significance of the act of storytelling. It’s well worth your time. Click here to read it.
Meanwhile, as I mentioned way back when, on the day the planes struck the towers, I shot an entire roll of film, much like countless others. From a series of vantage points along my home turf of University Place, I snapped photo after photo of the unfolding events. In retrospect, I’m not even sure why I did it, given the enormity of the circumstances. It just seemed like something I should do.
This being the era largely before the absolute ubiquity of digital photography, I dutifully dropped off my film some days (or was it even weeks?) later at my then-favorite lab Spectra (sadly long gone). I came back later that day to pick up the developed roll of film and could barely even look at the photographs. By this point, the images of that day were already indelibly burned into my memory and the memories and psyches of every New Yorker I knew, maddeningly reinforced by instant replays all over television.
My pictures weren’t really very different. I didn’t know what to do with them. I didn’t want to look at them, and I certainly didn’t feel like putting them in a photo album (remember when we all kept photo albums?). I put them in a blank envelope and filed them away somewhere. They’re now here in my home or storage space downstairs, but I’ll be damned if I could locate them if I tried. Regardless, I didn’t find my pictures — or even my own story of what I’d been doing that day — especially different from millions of others’. My images and the minutia of my banal activities that day don’t begin capture the weight of the event. In terms of what I was doing that day, as John Hodgman so succinctly put it in his afore-cited remarks, "personalizing an event that has touched so many and so cruelly, announcing by byline our own survival, feels shamefully self-involved."
Obviously, there were photographers who really did capture the tone of that day. My friend Karen Gehres’ husband Phil is one of those folks. He’s recently collected his images from September 11th into a truly disarming gallery. More so than any pictures of flapping flags or crying bald eagles or George W. Bush with a goddamn bullhorn, these images effortlessly and artfully convey the weight, enormity and absolute horror. Click here to see them.
Next up, I remember while we were all trying to make sense — or simply get our heads around — the experience, lots of media outlets did their best to condense stories into some sort of comforting, narrative arch. Some were, obviously, better than others. I’m reminded of a ham-fisted, overblown audio-collage of significant snippets spliced together by Glenn Beck’s radio program that felt like a “greatest hits medley.” I suppose you couldn’t blame folks for wanting to put things in linear perspective, but it was hard to manage without succumbing to treacle or chest-thumping xenophobia.
Around this same time, MTV kept playing a music video — hey, remember when they used to play music videos? — of a song by the strenuously earnest Pennsylvanian alt.rock band Live called “Overcome,” featuring images of firemen, police officers, doctors and first responders struggling to do their jobs in the snow-like hail of cinders, papers and debris. While their music wasn’t really my cup of tea, I thought it actually managed to strike the right balance at the time.
In thinking back to that, I did a bit of searching for the clip, but what I found cast proceedings in kind of a different light for me. Here’s the video now.
I’m assuming I either misremembered the particulars or that this is a different cut of the video I recall, but there’s a crucial difference here. The clip I remember was comprised exclusively of shots of the first responders, almost suggesting that it was some variety of homemade tribute (i.e. one not made by the band). This version, however, features footage of lead singer Ed Something-or-Other from Live actually on the scene himself and lip-synching to his pop single amidst the debris of Ground Zero. Perhaps I’m overreacting, but that just strikes me as ickily uncomfortable opportunism, no?
I know, I know — it’s a ridiculous grievance, but seriously….a bit fucking tasteless, as far as I’m concerned.
Lastly, in walking around yesterday, I was struck by all the things that have spouted up and, well, infected our culture, society and way of life since that day, and started to compose a list. I mean, they are the obvious things like having to take our shoes off at airports and such, but take another step back.
On a purely trivial level, in September of 2001, there was no Facebook. There was no Twitter. There was no Instagram. Hell, there wasn't even MySpace or Friendster. No one had an iPhone. There weren't even goddamn iPODS!!!
People still read books, listened to CD's, used phone booths and the only Kardashian anyone could name was that schmuck who helped O.J. Simpson walk.
Just a fleeting observation.
In any case, take a moment today to remember the genuinely important things, and maybe give an unsolicited hug to someone you care about.
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