Remembering the WTC
I have intentionally avoided any of the commemorative specials, sappy photo-montages, and historical reconstruction going on. I like to think in broader strokes, and when disasters are replayed as if they are somehow more important to historical consciousness than the day-to-day affairs before or after, I’m singularly unimpressed. What matters is how we learn from history— and this includes the moments before, during, and after.
I think Ray Davis has it right: the best way to commemorate September 11th is by going to work late. Past events can be learned from, and that is the primary lesson here, as I see it. The actions of fanatical folks who have no regard for human life can’t be controlled, and it is folly to believe otherwise. The real pity is that few seem conscious of what happened afterwards. What I remember most is not the image of the towers collapsing, but of the press frantically scrambling to put a spin on things— we must do something! Failing the invention of a time-machine, I can’t think of any way to put the lives disrupted and lost back in order. I’d also vote for turning the media off. Of course, all of this has virtually no impact on what I’m doing.
What I’ll be doing is attending a lecture by renowned Blake scholar Joe Viscomi. He’s one of the guiding hands behind the online Blake Archive, a pioneer scholar in the technical aspects of Blake’s printmaking processes, and from what I hear an all around great guy. I would not miss it for the world. I refuse to light a candle for the media’s benefit. I refuse to support the rebirth of American imperialism under the guise of celebrating such a heinous crime. I don’t want to be spun. I’d rather be enlightened.
The tide of wartime rhetoric has washed the world in blood again. I’d rather try to figure out more about William Blake’s rhetoric— Blake argued that we must stop corporeal war by elevating mental fight to the center of the agenda. We’ve got to stop creating enemies to demonize and lash out against physically, and deal instead with the mental conflicts at the core of it all. Why is it so hard to love one another? Maybe it’s because we’re constantly creating “others” to rage against to avoid raging against ourselves.
