I am living about 90 miles outside of New York City. I was in my college cafeteria this morning, getting my cottage cheese and apple sauce, when I heard the radio talking about the World Trade Center. I thought, "Maybe it is the anniversary of the World Trade Center bombing, an they are replaying the coverage." So I went to class, and people started to filter in with more and more news of what was happening. Many of my classmates are from Manhattan. People were running out of class crying everytime we heard about the next terrible thing that had happened. They tried to call their families to make sure they are okay, but all the phone circuits were busy. The moms and dads work in the world trade center, and they had no way of knowing that they were okay. My philosophy teacher began exploring the light and dark possiblities for heroic acts. He drew the line at rationalizing the terrorists sacrifice as heroic. And I was sitting in class, wondering if I could draw the same line. I felt numb, unhuman, sociopathic. I am so afraid that I am not so far away from those terrorists. I wonder if the emotion they were feeling when they flew the plane into the Trade Center is like the emotion I have experienced while in love. They must have been so in love with their cause. How many times have I been blinded by love? Since that philosophy class, I have spent all day realizing that as much as any person may be able to empathise with the perpetrators of such acts, there is no excuse for sympathy. I do not feel sympathy. We had a school wide meeting at 3:00 on the rugby field. It was a beautiful day, the butterflies were dancing on the grass. It was too much. My best friend, Bunny, watched the planes crash from her 12th floor brooklyn apartment, as she ate her cereal at 8:30 this morning. I talked to my Architecture professor, she listened and really helped. but the only thing that really worked was when she started talking about the Mies exhibit at MOMA. I am convinced that art is the solution to every emotional delima. It always makes me feel better. Plato says that art is the furthest seperation from reality. As a philosopher, he sees this as a bad thing, but I think its great. I wrote a letter last night naming this year, "The Year of Let it All Come Down," after the Spiritualized album coming out in a couple weeks. I really only meant it to honor Jason Spaceman for quiting drugs and turning his life around. But, now it has taken on a much heavier, unfortunately appropriate meaning. Now no matter if I like it or not, it has become the year of Let it All Come Down. I wish I could take it back. Martha +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+