Uncle Wim and me at the World Trade Center.
I watched "In Memoriam" a 9/11 documentary on HBO On Demand last night. Remembered, cried. My god did that hurt. Of course we have Bush as president. Hell yeah the terrorists won. We are all so fucked in the fucking head from what happened. I can't explain what happened where we voted for him in the first place, but there is this quote in the beginning of this comic book I am reading "The Book of Jesse":
As democracy is perfected, the office of the President represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.
- H.L. Mencken
When I got home from the city Sunday night, drunk off wine, anxious to kick of my shoes, I walked past Hobson's, a popular Hoboken bar, and saw a sign in the window "9/11 benefit in memory of Wayne Hobson who died in the WTC attacks" or however it was worded. Oh yeah. Today is September 11. This is the first year that people really seemed to move on with their lives on that day, at least in New York, maybe the rest of the world moved on sooner. Maybe it's Katrina, probably it's that people want to move on. I've learned in this past year for the first time that there is virtue in ignorance, at least educated ignorance- acknowledging the truth and then moving on. I do this with politics. Social issues pain me far too much to wrap my head around them as I used to.
There's nothing wrong with choosing happiness over obsession with the truth. If I wanted to be happy this year, I had to ignore my heartbreak. I had to choose to be happy and choose to move on. I had to choose me. I know what happened, now it's time to fucking buck up and enjoy these hours on earth. And living in this America I feel like I stand in the middle of a field of burning babies and suffering and molding and rotting misery while I have a refreshing import beer and a steak. This culture and its ideals rot every day, Yet I am cushioned by this insular city and this fabulous life and I ought not exercise my peripheral vision if I don't want to spoil my meal. FEMA fucked up, women are stoned to death in foreign countries for getting raped, cancer, fuck man- we didn't start the fire. My point is that there's this "Never Forget" thing. But that's just too crippling. 9/11 hurt and it hurt bad. And we aren't the same America or New York that we used to be. We are scared and threatened and weirded the hell out. And collectively, we aren't thinking rationally. And I believe that explains George W. And maybe Katrina was a wakeup call.
Hello! Good Morning! Wake-up! All that your president is is a socialite- an image whose sole job is as a figurehead. All he does is convey messages, with symbolic acts and a team that delicately balances his PR. All his acts are symbolic and their only purpose is to create and manipulate his image. He doesn't care what he does and he doesn't really seem to do anything on purpose. And with Katrina it's like he's been caught. It's like watching Christina Applegate in Don't Tell Mom The Babysitter's Dead, but in the end she actually did a good job. He's caught, he's unqualified, it's all an act. Incompetence rears its whorish head. We been fucked by democracy's power to create a tyranny of the majority.
And now it's time you dickheads, for a personal declaration.
I am an American and I am a New Yorker. I don't give a shit if someone is more New York than me and humped the ground of Manhattan themselves. This is me. I love these people and this city and it is the center of the only universe that matters to me. It is the most thinking and most evolved social center of the modern world. It's a meccca of ideas and art and it knows what life is. And it comes with the freedom to go on vacation from it. New York is the culture that cultivated me and I grew up in its shadow. I love this place. I love this country. I love my home, but damn, sometimes she's a bitch.