A Brief Conversation on 9/11
Earlier today I visited a client of my web site business in Lower Manhattan. Their office is a few blocks walk north of the World Trade Center.
Few – and maybe none – New Yorkers, other than media types and those peddling goulish day tours, refer to “ground zero.” We stubbornly call it the World Trade Center, partly out of memory but largely out of defiance and a refusal to allow the 911 scum to think they took away anything more than the physical.
It’s another insight into local character that, until that day, both the World Trade Center and Mayor Rudy Giuliani, were seriously disliked and even reviled, by most New Yorkers; one for ugliness, the other for arrogance (you figure out which is which; could be either or both). But once something of our own is attacked by “outsiders,” it immediately becomes beloved. Well . . . maybe that’s too strong a word; try “tolerated.”
For all of New Yorker’s alleged modernity, we do not easily abandon place names. We require time before we will accept a name change. That may explain why Sixth Avenue, whose name was changed only 64 years ago to Avenue of the Americas, is still Sixth Avenue on local maps. The West Side area between 23rd and 34th streets that real estate developers want to call “Clinton” remains “Hell’s Kitchen” to the rest of us.
It was no surprise that bureaucratic post-9/11 attempts to change the World Trade Center PATH Station name to something else met with cries of outrage in the distinct local accent.
This morning, as usual, when the PATH train from Jersey City pulled into the open wound known as “the washtub,” the deep space at the foot of the former towers, I averted my eyes. I can never look.
The one time I did that, in 2003, on my first visit since 2001, as I stepped from the train to the platform, I was clobbered as if by Gorgon’s Gaze of mythology.
I was stuck fast. My breathing stopped. My heart pounded harder than I’d ever known it to in the previous 70 years. My chin slumped down to my chest even as my eyes remained fixed on that hellish spot. Then, a single great breath from deep inside was released as a sob and tears blurred my sight.
Someone did this to please God.
I wish I could have been there that morning, five years ago today, as the chief hijacker stood before the throne and boasted of the gift he had come to lay before the Creator.
“Here they are, God. True, we managed to rip only about 3,000 souls from life. We had a few unlucky breaks. But each of my team is ready for his 72 virgins.”
God sat there looking at him for a long while before he spoke in a quiet, steady voice.
“Let me get this straight. You slaughtered 3,000 of my creation just a few minutes ago. Is that right?”
“Yep, we sure did. And in the process we also created tens of thousands of widows and orphans, as well as a lot of cripples. By the way, do we get to choose between blondes and redheads or is there a package deal on assorteds?”
In the background a slowly gathering rumble could be heard.
“You do know that all 3,000 were made in My Image, don’t you? I’m not speaking of the occasional politician or journalist or similar lower forms you may have swept up today by pure co-incidence. Those are special cases. But all the others were born innocent and always loved. By what privilege did you presume to kill them? Do you have the right to take your own life, too? Isn’t that My Right alone?”
The question shimmered in the air like a burning sword.
“Well, of course. But infidels must die. And our reward for making that happen, especially if we are martyred in the process, is right there in The Book. I’m so excited. Do we get 72 for each infidel?”
Increasing numbers of Angels began to gather, their attention focused with a fascination not unlike that of us humans gaping at a highway accident.
“Hmmm. We’ll get back to that in a few minutes. No hurry. You have all of eternity during which you’ll get what’s coming to you. Tell me, was there any other reason for this, I mean aside from the 72 naughty bits?”
The dark clouds behind the throne began to pulsate with lightning flashes in purple and red.
“Oh yes. They all deserved to suffer; infidels; unbelievers; women who show their hair and wear trousers; men who shave and eat pork; we even nailed a few children who might have grown up singing, dancing and watching cartoons. By the way, may I have at least one Asian virgin? I like Asian girls.”
A crack jumped jaggedly across the floor of the throne room, almost clipping the toes of our horny assassin. As it spread, it widened, separating him from The Presence.
“Before I get to that I want to consult with someone.
Peter, stop fiddling with those keys and set up a conference call down below.
Line one, did you say?
Oh, here he is now.
Hey Bielzebub. How are you, Bubba? Yes, I know business is hot. That joke stopped being funny a few eons ago.
Listen, here’s why I’m calling. Do you remember that Special Place we spoke about?
Unh-hunh, yes, that one, the villa on the Fiery Lake. I want you to stock it with 72 virgins right away. I’m sending someone down by FedEx, same day, air.
What’s that? Bubba, that’s not my problem. You’ll find them. Sure, plastic inflatables will work. The text doesn’t say they have to be alive – or even human.
Oh, and do whatever is needed to make sure each of those things remains permanently virgo intacta. Maybe the hymen could be woven from asbestos cloth.
Off?
Oh yes; that’s a better idea. Cut it off.
What’s that?
Yes, hands too.”
Related Posts -
The Taj Mahal - Late Afternoon Album #1 After a nap, a great hot shower, fresh clothes and an excellent sandwich in the garden of the amzingly cheap and cheerfully green garden of the Guest House, I climbed into the back of a three-wheeler and roared off to see the Taj Mahal before it closed at 6pm. ...... -
The Delhi Metro This modern transit system (Delhi Metro Wikipedia entry) is a hugely refreshing surprise. It's also a bit humbling. I don't know a single city in all the USA that has anything of this size and quality even under discussion . . . and Delhi's system here is almost 90% complete....... - The Ganges River Standing on an open, stone-surfaced platform that was like a "thrust stage," jutting out from the buildings to the rear and either side, I confronted great contrasts. On this side of the river, behind me and to either hand, everything was a jumble of towers, temples, balconies, sheds, cupolas, archways,......
- ATP World Tour: Robby Ginepri The $519,000 ATP World Tour 250 in Indianapolis, United States of America, running from the 19th of July, 2009 until the 26th of July, 2009 on hard court surfaces. More information can be obtained through http://www.atpworldtour.com. Results for Sunday, the 26th of July, 2009: Singles Final, R Ginepri of the......
- How do I start my own fund that trades futures and options? Early in my investing career I quickly lost 8,000 in every market you can think of. Since then I have learned how to read financial reports, understand the effects of geoploitical situations throughout the world and I have extensively studied technical analysis (patterns, support/resistance, indicators based on oscillations & candlesticks).......
- Sands’ Sale of Macau Malls, Apartments May Raise $12 Billion By Liza Lin April 28 (Bloomberg) -- Las Vegas Sands Corp. Chairman Sheldon Adelson said the planned sale of the casino operator's Macau malls and apartments may raise as much as $12 billion and recoup their construction costs. "It will be like $12 billion if we add up all......
Write a comment
You need to login to post comments!