Lydia’s Blog

I’m probably going to get drunk tonight. I figure I’ll do that to parrot CNN’s semi-tacky decision to webcast its original footage from September 11, 2001. You see, on that fateful day, I sat around my Pittsburgh apartment with two fabulous homos, one coach/accompanist and one playwright, playing “we’re under attack” drinking games. My TV only got NBC at the time, so we watched that channel, and whenever they aired their stock footage of “gleeful Arab woman dancing in the street”, we’d drink a shot. Unfortunately, they showed this clip at least once every ten minutes. After knocking back two bottles of Jose Cuervo, one of JD, a bottle of Ouzo (a present from Donny Zara, bless him) and half a jug of Arbor Mist…we began a heated argument against and in favor of driving out to the Flight 93 crash site and offering the rescue workers and investigators conciliatory handjobs. The “against” faction won in the end, and we decided to call it a day. I woke with my face caked to my pillow with my own vomit on the morning of September 12.

As you might possibly ascertain, I’m not very passionate or political about 9/11, or its legacy. This is not the case for some other people in my life. My mother, for instance, is a comprehensively researched conspiracy theorist.For about two hours a few days ago, she filibustered (solitarily, to be sure, to an invisible congress) about the unbelievable luck the hijackers (if there were any, of course) had to score a “perfect” day (cloudless, no wind) on September 11. The words “coincidence” and “luck” have been erased from her working vocabulary. We celebrated the big “5” by watching “Loose Change”, the movement’s leading documentary. (Let it never be said that I don’t love my mother).

A good friend of mine from grad school lost two uncles that day, both worked in the South Tower. I’m pretty sure that words like “unmanned drones” and ideas like “steel will only melt at temperatures exceeding those of the plane crashes by 1000 degrees Fahrenheit” are among those of which he’s appreciate hearing less that “it’s time for your prostate exam, please bend over and relax”.

On radio and TV programs today, I had to endure the remembrances of an entire series on imbeciles, on which very nearly NO ONE had experienced any direct or personal loss from 9/11. (I don’t live in the New Yorky part of Connecticut, you see).

Nauseating platitudes like:

“Nine-eleven was our generation’s call to duty.”

“On that day, a piece of America’s heart collapsed with those buildings.”

“That awful day made America better and safer, in the long run.”

Let me tell you about the legacy of 9/11…it’s fucked me in the dumper just about every time I’ve flown internationally (about 25 times) in the last five years. It’s made Europeans cynical toward and Middle Eastern/Northern African/West Asians scornful of me in my country of residence.

But at the heart of it, let’s face it. The three thousand plus that died that day (and their families) have been turned into political bargaining chips. For the dicks on the conspiratorial left. For the total assholes on the ranting, flag-waving right.

That’s awful. The widows and widowers don’t need that. Nor do the orphans.

Rather than sweeping the events of September 11, 2001 under the rug for 364 days of the year, then whipping out our “sentimental and contemplative” side just in time for the speeches and breast-rending orgies…

Fucking do something. If you’re against what the “legacy of 9/11” has become…educate yourself about alternative theories, write your congressperson, join a march, choose a candidate in the upcoming election who reflects your view and put in some serious hours to support him/her.

Or if you venerate the “legacy of 9/11”, get in the game. Lobby for adequate health care for all those first responders and volunteer construction workers (from all over the U.S.) who have been suffering chronic and debilitating respiratory symptoms due to inhaling asbestos, concrete and glass at ground zero (the Heroes, come on, you remember them…). Donate your time and money to the numerous charities that have been founded to support 9/11 orphans. Become active in the task forces and lobbying organizations that are still struggling to guide rebuilding efforts in lower Manhattan.

If you REALLY love the militant angle of the “legacy of 9/11”, figure out who from your community is currently serving his/her duty in Iraq or Afghanistan. Write them. Send them care packages of the local treats native to your town or city. Bake casseroles for their families. Devote time and money to organizations that donate supplementary equipment to U.S. troops on duty. You support those fucking troops. Live the goddamned ribbon, for the love of Jesus….

But DON’T just scratch your ample ass for a year until that one day comes—where you decide to call into a radio talk show and yammer on about how much 9/11 affected you.

Therefore as I did that day, I do once again….raising a glass and fully owning my complete and total apathy…

…and wanting to deliver a swift roundhouse to my fellow apoloticos who on this day refuse to walk this lazy walk…

This entry was posted on Monday, September 11th, 2006 at 3:37 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.