Day One - 9/11/01

I live in lower Manhattan and was standing at West Broadway and Leonard after the 2nd plane hit. We could see people jumping from the towers to escape the fires.

And then, I saw and heard the most horrifying thing I have ever witnessed in my life - the 1st tower collapsing. It is surreal and horrific to imagine how many thousands went down with that tower.

The crowd let out a collective scream. Many turned and ran while others dropped to their knees in shock. We couldn't tell how far the debris would fall. Chaos and pandemonium ensued. Finally the rumbling stopped, and I saw grown men on their knees, weeping openly into the ground. Words can't describe how horrible and frightening a sight it was.

Our beautiful skyline has been destroyed and thousands have been killed in a brutal, barbaric act of war.

Everyone in New York is horrified and angry. Its so strange to walk out of my apartment and see an empty sky and smell smoke. Am I in New York anymore? Conversation at the coffee shop veered between despair, wanting revenge, and wondering what emboldened terrorists will do next (launch a nuclear missile? germ warfare?).

I've often referred to this as the worst year of my life because of my cancer hell. On the day before the attacks I had to go into urgent care, and this Monday I'm getting another CATscan to see what's going on, but it seems so insignificant now. Now of course the year has gotten even worse, which I didn't even think was possible.

So says a long-time fan of the site from Turkey:
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Day Two - 9/12/01

That was my brief personal response. And now, here is the official response to the tragedy from the House of Diabolique.

At this time, the House of Diabolique officially declares war on Osama Bin Laden, Afghanistan, Iraq, and all of those Palestinians who were caught celebrating in the streets.

House of Diabolique (HoD) fighter jets carrying Danny Almonte and the rest of his Bronx Little League team are flying to Israel, where Danny and his team will deal with the many Palestinian children seen celebrating the mass murder of thousands and the destruction of our beautiful skyline by stealing their candy, burning their flags, and beating them with bats.

As for the leadership of Afghanistan, we understand that the United States has rules against assassinating the leadership of foreign countries. We have no such rules, and so the Taliban and every member of it will be brought to the tallest building in Afghanistan and forced to jump from the top as so many did at the WTC. And then, they will be shot, because the tallest building in Afghanistan is surely too pathetically short to cause them any harm.

The HoD has been in secret communication with Allah since 1997. At our behest, Allah (angry at the misinterpretation of his teachings) has agreed to sink the entire country of Iraq into the sea. Iraqi citizens who are supportive of the US will be spared and allowed to live on a spattering of island paradises that will rise from the sea in Iraq's place. These island paradises will become playgrounds for citizens of the West, where house music is played 24/7, illicit sex is rampant and drugs are legal.

HoD satellites have discovered the coward Osama Bin Laden hiding in Afghanistan. Secret HoD operatives Linda Hamilton, Sigourney Weaver and Pam Grier will parachute in to kidnap him and bring him here while killing all of his minions. Also present will be Will Smith to supply the necessary witty rejoinders and smart remarks after every terrorists' well deserved death at the hands of this special force.

When Osama Bin Laden is brought to us, he will be tied to a post in Washington Square Park. New Yorkers will be asked to form a line up 5th Avenue and take turns smacking, punching, and kicking the shit of out him for the next 12 months. On September 11, 2002, his body will be burned with jet fuel, and his head will be used in the foundation of the new World Trade Center, designed by the House of Diabolique to be even bigger, stronger, and more impressive than the old.

Any other Middle Eastern countries found to be harboring terrorists or even to be sympathetic to terrorists will be placed onto an asteroid and launched into the sun. We are America. We have the technology, and we will use it.

Lastly, the HoD declares war on France. All restaurants in France will be replaced with McDonalds, because we're sick of hearing them complain about cultural imperialism so they're just going to have to deal with it until the HoD decides otherwise.

until next week remember..
when you dance, we are a part of what you feel.

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Day Three - 9/13/01

A friend and I wanted to volunteer somewhere so we walked over to the West Side Highway as far south as possible, where a small crowd of people including mothers, children, businessmen, thugs and students of all ages and races stood cheering the rescue vehicles as they drove through the security checkpoint. Cheers were often greeted with waves from the weary workers.

In an odd moment, Donald Trump strode by, through the checkpoint and towards the wreckage, even now in a business suit. I took a picture of him looking wearily at the cloud of smoke where the WTC used to be, his trademark cocky smirk completely absent.

The West Side Highway, normally a clogged mess is now empty except for rescue vehicles - army trucks, fire engines, police cars, ambulances - and the occasional groups of people cheering them on and holding up signs that say such things as 'You Are All Heroes' - and they are.

We walked up to the Chelsea Piers to see a long line of ambulances and crowds of people organizing the many donations. However a placard stood that said the Piers had reached their capacity for supplies and volunteers and that those looking to help should go to the Javits Center.

So further north we went to the Javits Center, where a line of potential volunteers 6 or 7 deep stretched from the entrance and then around two corners of the city block. Those who were leaving told us that only trained professionals were being accepted as volunteers at that time. It was heartening to see that no more volunteers were needed but disappointing to feel so useless.

We walked over to Madison Square Garden where New Yorkers are buying those touristy items we usually disdain like 'I Love NY' T-shirts. My friend bought a poster of the old skyline. I bought a postcard of the WTC with text that reads 'Fabulous New York' and a flag. It is a noteworthy day in America when I am not only proud of Mayor Guliani but also feel patriotic enough to have a flag sticking out of my backpack.

Someone had written 'Kill All Arabs' on the side of a phone booth, and another person had tried crossing it out. We crossed it out further.

From there, we headed to St. Vincent's Hospital, where the streets are empty of normal traffic but full of reporters, news vans and rescue vehicles. Sadly, no patients were coming in because most bodies are being found dead or in pieces. Phone booths and bus stops are plastered with photographs of those missing.

Next we crossed 5th and 6th avenues, both eerily empty of traffic, and to Washington Square Park, where a memorial has been set up underneath the arch, and then to Union Square, home to an even bigger memorial. Tomorrow I will add my own touching, and yet wittily and forcefully designed poster. And then we headed home.

My neighborhood is closed to non-residents. I say we close the downtown area off to bridge-and-tunnelers and uptowners all year round. A friend of mine saw Perry Farrell being denied entry at 14th and University. This is a rule we might want to keep.

Many residents are walking around wearing dust masks or bandanas over their faces because the air is clogged with dust and smoke. But life goes on. Some restaurants and bars are open. The bar nearest my apartment has a chalkboard sign out front which says this:
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