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It seemed somehow that politicians were very important. And yet, anything seemed important about them except their politics.

— G.K. Chesterton, "The Queer Feet", The Innocence Of Father Brown

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cool blogs by friends...
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silk velvet asylum - Karin's blog, formerly "Makura No Soshi"
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Bookslut blog - home to Jessa
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friends who are far too cool for blogging...
Lyndsay - professional penguin-hater
Monique - archivist at large
Michelle - ex-housemate, throws great parties
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mechaieh's windowseat - she likes Brit mysteries
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Neil Gaiman! - Renaissance man
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All contents of this site copyright (c) 2002 Jonathan Van Matre except where otherwise noted. All rights reserved. Works on this site may not be reproduced or distributed without the author's express permission.

9/11/02 9:33 AM

We've got so far to come...

Listening on repeat to Heaven Is 10 Zillion Light Years Away...

In your own time, in your own way, as you need it, do what you have to do.

This is my recipe for dealing with grief, tragedy, or just plain everyday life.

I don't need television or newspapers for that, especially today. I imagine you probably don't either, but if you do, that's okay. In your own time, in your own way.

I suppose that's what bothers me about all the media coverage—it's a mass prescription for a very diverse set of people, some of whom may be made worse by the prescribed observances, or allergic to them, or simply enjoy no noticeable effect.

In their own time, in their own way, America's corporations are also recovering as they need to. Mostly they need money, and they need ratings & readers to get money. Hence the onslaught of memorial coverage. Watch it or ignore it, in your own time and way.

I don't want to talk about politics here. I don't want to discuss my ambivalent ease / disease with the patriotic displays and rehearsed sentimentality.

In my own time, and in my own way...

I want to say I love humanity, and all its million million unrehearsed sentiments transpiring on this day.

I want to take a little time with my friends, to unwrap the gift of the present moment.

I want to thank you for being here, even if I've never met you, because the world is better with you in it.

I want to listen to this Stevie Wonder song over and over, as much at ease / disease with my patchwork religious feelings as I am with patriotism, but feeling these things anyway:

Why can't they say that hate is 10 zillion light years away?

We've got so far to come.

But in my heart I can feel it.

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