911, SOS and other distress calls

September 11, 2008

Today, i celebrated september 11th on my couch–which is smelling like cat piss–by drinking french wine and watching my dusty copy of Loose Change.

And it didn’t help that in research for the second half of my “intellectual” decline argument–between which this is the buffer–I stumbled across Chuck Klosterman’s Radiohead piece for SPIN Magaine back when Hail To The Thief came out. In it, he insists that despite it’s name it is not a political album, but does go on and on about how “it’s hard to remember how things actually happen anymore, because there’s so much mind control and so many media agendas” and that “it’s about wishing that all the people who tell you that you’re crazy were actually right. That would make life so much easier:”

“I absolutely feel crazy at times,” he says. “Anybody who turns on the TV and actually thinks about what they’re watching has to believe they’re going insane or that they’re missing something everyone else is seeing. When I watch the Fox News channel I can’t believe how much nerve those people have and how they assume that people are just going to swallow that shit. And I find myself thinking that I must be missing something.”

Then I watched a convincing liberal propaganda video about how all of the events on 9/11 were staged by our own government and thought about how when I went to ground zero last year I met a kid who’s father was a fallen firefighter and now he pickets there every Saturday about how he wants some damn answers (because nothing adds up). Then I reminisced about my trip to NYC in the 4th grade where we went to the United Nations building and took some goofy tour and I almost bought some Oakleys from the lining of some guy’s jacket, but–most importantly–we went to the top of the World Trade Center and I rode on a helicopter-over-Manhattan simulation ride (where the ground of the theater moves to correspond to the flight path) and ate a $7 hot dog.

And I just can’t think of a better–or more American–way to say “I love you” to the attack on our soil than a good of fashioned back piece because if you get anything smaller, you’re probably “with them.”

Here are a few of my favorites–even if I can’t tell what the first one says:


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