Exterminate all rational thought.
![toddatteberry > World Trade Center
I was 13 years old when I first heard of the World Trade Center, when a Frenchman by the name of Philippe Petit walked a tightrope which him and a group of confederates had managed to string between the two towers. There are far too few unbelievable and unreal feats in the world, but the sight of a man dancing atop a tightrope a quarter of a mile in the air captured the imagination.
The next time it entered my consciousness was one morning when I got a call that one of the towers had been struck by an airplane and I should turn on the tv. Living in a small midwestern town, I didn't even have cable at the time, and the local PBS station, the only station we could receive was showing children's programming. So for the next few hours I followed the unfolding of the story on the radio, which was a surreal experience of itself, like listening to the broadcasts of the Hindenburgh exploding.
By this time I already knew I was moving, and moving east. In the days that followed I heard a few disturbing statements, some more than others. "Thank god it was only New York City, it might actually be an improvement" was a popular one.
A little known fact ... people in the rest of the country hate New York as much as New York hates the rest of the country.
New York is probably the most egotistical town I've ever known. It's the only place I know that its citizens actually call the center of the world. There's a lot wrong with New York, and perhaps it did need cut down to size, but it didn't deserve that.
And between those comments, and those that we should just nuke every muslim in the world, I soon realized there was only one place I could live, which was of course New York. Now I can't afford to live in New York City, I can't really afford to visit the place and I can barely afford to live on Long Island. But I figured if the place gets hit again, at least some of the cold hearted bastards that didn't mind seeing the place get hit once might think twice if someone they knew lived there.
Sinatra sang "If I can make it there I can make it anywhere." But this isn't Sinatra's New York. Most of us are just trying to hold on. When I was interviewing for jobs here, one fellow asked "How come you're trying to come here when everyone else is trying to leave?"; When I told him my reasons he had a simple answer ... "masochist."
Broadway sucks, though I'm not sure if New Yorkers know that yet, as they seem to be in so many cases ignorant of their own history. The center of the world when it comes to music is anywhere but New York. Is there even a center of the art world any longer? And the world champion New York Giants are for the most part a team of players from all over the country who play ball in New Jersey.
The word hero was tossed around a lot in the days after the tragedy. To be a hero just meant being unfortunate enough to show up for work on time that fateful day. And that rubbed me the wrong way. I doubt that given the choice, many of those people would have shown up to work knowing they were going to die. Undoubtedly there were heroes in the midst, an unknown number. But the rank and file casualty wasn't a hero, they were a victim. To be a hero requires intent, not dumb luck.
And it's important to keep reality in mind when thinking of the World Trade Centers. Tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of people have died in the name of that tragedy, most of which for no other reason than they happen to be born under a ruthless dictator that the powers that be decided needed to come down.
Today the World Trade Center is hole in the ground, the subject of more bickering and debate than went on in planning for the wars which followed. I don't think it takes a stretch of the imagination to see that it was a target because it was a symbol of the greed of America, it's desire to stretch it's arm of commerce into whatever areas of the world it can exploit. If the scene had been any small town in the United states, or a stretch of isolated countryside in Pennsylvania like where the last jet went down that day, the grounds would become sacred. But this is New York, and that's a valuable piece of real estate. Most of those people didn't die on the ground, where all the talk is of where to build a memorial. They died in the air. They died on the planes at they slammed into the buildings, and inside the building as a wall of fire passed through. They died from the smoke, they died from the heat, they died from the floors above coming down on them as the building fell. And perhaps most horrific of all, they died after falling free fall through the air, the last conscious choice they could make being how they would die. The best memorial is already there. All you have to do is go to Ground Zero and look up.
The Trade Center was like Icarus, it reached for the sky and was destroyed by fire from the sky. It was temple built to serve ambition and greed, and those two things tend to lead to hard times. I may be just an ignorant hick from the country, but isn't there a message to be learned here? If you want to see the Trade Centers, turn your face towards the morning sun and close your eyes, and see that little figure high above, walking the tightrope into destiny.
fataetoile says:
I love this one...it's a poem...
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
alison lyons photography says:
Great narrative.
It has been many years since i heard the name Philippe Petit, i had completely forgotton about him and his connection to the WTC.
I was about 16 (probably makes me a couple of years older than you) when i first heard about him, I remember him coming to Australia and performing the same feat between the pylons of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Somewhere in my archives I have a photo taken by a colleague of my father, that was given to me, (I will have to see if i can find it now). I think it was a couple of years later that Philippe "walked" between the twin towers 1974(?). The mere thought of it makes my heart leap to my mouth. It is a strange irony now, given the events that have now transpired.
I celebrated my 18 birthday in New York and stood at the top if the towers in sheer disbelief of what Philippe Petit had done.
My son left for the USA 5 days ago, he is 21, he will be in South Dakota/Minneapolis for 2 months, staying with his girlfried.
He will visit New York and Ground Zero, and he will stand on the ground, where I once stood in the sky.
I will send him this link, he has never heard of Philippe Petit.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
aleeka salaam says:
What wise words you write...even if you are only an ignorant hick from the country....and that I don't believe for one second!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Pristine Waters says:
Great writing, Todd. The photo is great too. I watched it all unfold on tv and since I have a cousin from Ohio who lives in Manhattan and I'd visited there a few times, it felt personal. Sorry to know that some people you've encountered actually had such unkind words for New York.
An Invite To
SearchTheBest
Please tag "SearchTheBest".
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
passionategray81 says:
I love the stories your pictures tell.
For me, I snap a picture and upload it and that's it... nothing behind it in most circumstances.
But yours have much meaning and value behind them. I appreciate it. It makes me think, but it also taps into that creative, passionate, deeper side that rarely comes out now that life has become someone else's priorities.
--
Seen on my Flickr home page. (?)
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Sati K. says:
Fantastic!!
You have a unique view. Please post your photo into the queue at:
Hour of the Diamond Light
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Steel Steve (work, work, work) says:
Interesting information, I knew nothing of this
--
Seen in my contacts' photos. (?)
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Sabine Dukes says:
the hat! I just want to grab that hat!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Cate says:
You write beautifully Todd, this moves me so much...
the geese call to mind the desperate sight of people jumping out of the burning towers, your expression and the story of the tightrope walking Philippe Petit along with the knowledge of what came to pass later is a poignant reminder of how the innocence and wonder of youth can become tainted by later events, often in my mind when I look at my daughter and worry for her future...
the mindless remark you quoted, a terrible reminder of most people's inability to face the reality of things and deal with true emotion...
I'm writing an essay myself now, I'll stop.
But lots to think about with this one, really well wrapped up in a lovely image and poetic words.
I like it, can you tell?
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Cate says:
and I want to grab the hat too!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
h.koppdelaney says:
Wonderful image. Ikarus. It repeats again and again... HKD
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Svijet oko mene says:
just excellent !
--
Seen in my contacts' photos. (?)
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Seeking Zen (Sean Beesley) says:
Awesome
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Ola Auleytner (away) says:
"The Trade Center was like Icarus", love your narrative...
Awesome, powerful picture!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
The Lady of Shalot says:
Magic spell of images and words...
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
LiLi S. says:
Very beautiful composition!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
CheshireMoon says:
This is fantastic work. Great story also.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
2wheelz says:
I remember Philip Petit. You right, it was an amazing feat. How about the guy who climbed the Towers in 77, George Willig?
Outstanding composition... your creativity is wonderful!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
bunchadogs & susan says:
Wonderful and I must send you a print I bought this year from a Basenji breeder who is a New Yorker.
I love your images, but I love your narratives, too.
Seen in:
Hour of the Diamond Light
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
thegreensea says:
Fabulous image, well done.
(VIP Room)
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
spleenful says:
You've created an exceptional image here along with such compelling writing. So outstanding!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
absynthius says:
wonderful- unearthly indeed.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Impetuous Delirious Yesterday says:
I can't say how much I enjoyed the combination of that spellbinding image with your rhythmic incisive prose.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
boo * says:
Lovely and moving - I have always been in awe of Phillipe Petit
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
thereallinda says:
o, i love this surreal picture. the birds wings echo the subject's outstretched arms.
and the hat is perfect.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Tangent~A (dropping by :) says:
I read the text above a few days ago, no time to comment, interrupted... These are very original, surprising views on all these events. Especially to Europeans like me. I take it as true compassion felt with reasonable, "unblinded" distance, so afar from the definitive statements that lead to various extremes. I know the US holds much diversity, including with regards to people. Now, it's the first time I read such views expressed that way. With simplicity, elegance, plus a wonderful touch of poetry. And beautifully written, Sir. The fact that I fully agree is somewhat irrelevant, though I do agree.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
ki's2 [deleted] says:
chills.....tears....for truths and deaths and lives..
Posted 6 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
HaggisVitae says:
Really, really beautiful.
Posted 3 months ago. ( permalink |](http://www.toddatteberry.com/Fantasy-Faerie-and-the-Absurd/Theatre-of-the-Absurd/i-CXFTjZC/2/Ti/WorldTradeCenter-Ti.jpg "toddatteberry > World Trade Center
I was 13 years old when I first heard of the World Trade Center, when a Frenchman by the name of Philippe Petit walked a tightrope which him and a group of confederates had managed to string between the two towers. There are far too few unbelievable and unreal feats in the world, but the sight of a man dancing atop a tightrope a quarter of a mile in the air captured the imagination.
The next time it entered my consciousness was one morning when I got a call that one of the towers had been struck by an airplane and I should turn on the tv. Living in a small midwestern town, I didn't even have cable at the time, and the local PBS station, the only station we could receive was showing children's programming. So for the next few hours I followed the unfolding of the story on the radio, which was a surreal experience of itself, like listening to the broadcasts of the Hindenburgh exploding.
By this time I already knew I was moving, and moving east. In the days that followed I heard a few disturbing statements, some more than others. \"Thank god it was only New York City, it might actually be an improvement\" was a popular one.
A little known fact ... people in the rest of the country hate New York as much as New York hates the rest of the country.
New York is probably the most egotistical town I've ever known. It's the only place I know that its citizens actually call the center of the world. There's a lot wrong with New York, and perhaps it did need cut down to size, but it didn't deserve that.
And between those comments, and those that we should just nuke every muslim in the world, I soon realized there was only one place I could live, which was of course New York. Now I can't afford to live in New York City, I can't really afford to visit the place and I can barely afford to live on Long Island. But I figured if the place gets hit again, at least some of the cold hearted bastards that didn't mind seeing the place get hit once might think twice if someone they knew lived there.
Sinatra sang \"If I can make it there I can make it anywhere.\" But this isn't Sinatra's New York. Most of us are just trying to hold on. When I was interviewing for jobs here, one fellow asked \"How come you're trying to come here when everyone else is trying to leave?\"; When I told him my reasons he had a simple answer ... \"masochist.\"
Broadway sucks, though I'm not sure if New Yorkers know that yet, as they seem to be in so many cases ignorant of their own history. The center of the world when it comes to music is anywhere but New York. Is there even a center of the art world any longer? And the world champion New York Giants are for the most part a team of players from all over the country who play ball in New Jersey.
The word hero was tossed around a lot in the days after the tragedy. To be a hero just meant being unfortunate enough to show up for work on time that fateful day. And that rubbed me the wrong way. I doubt that given the choice, many of those people would have shown up to work knowing they were going to die. Undoubtedly there were heroes in the midst, an unknown number. But the rank and file casualty wasn't a hero, they were a victim. To be a hero requires intent, not dumb luck.
And it's important to keep reality in mind when thinking of the World Trade Centers. Tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of people have died in the name of that tragedy, most of which for no other reason than they happen to be born under a ruthless dictator that the powers that be decided needed to come down.
Today the World Trade Center is hole in the ground, the subject of more bickering and debate than went on in planning for the wars which followed. I don't think it takes a stretch of the imagination to see that it was a target because it was a symbol of the greed of America, it's desire to stretch it's arm of commerce into whatever areas of the world it can exploit. If the scene had been any small town in the United states, or a stretch of isolated countryside in Pennsylvania like where the last jet went down that day, the grounds would become sacred. But this is New York, and that's a valuable piece of real estate. Most of those people didn't die on the ground, where all the talk is of where to build a memorial. They died in the air. They died on the planes at they slammed into the buildings, and inside the building as a wall of fire passed through. They died from the smoke, they died from the heat, they died from the floors above coming down on them as the building fell. And perhaps most horrific of all, they died after falling free fall through the air, the last conscious choice they could make being how they would die. The best memorial is already there. All you have to do is go to Ground Zero and look up.
The Trade Center was like Icarus, it reached for the sky and was destroyed by fire from the sky. It was temple built to serve ambition and greed, and those two things tend to lead to hard times. I may be just an ignorant hick from the country, but isn't there a message to be learned here? If you want to see the Trade Centers, turn your face towards the morning sun and close your eyes, and see that little figure high above, walking the tightrope into destiny.
fataetoile says:
I love this one...it's a poem...
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
alison lyons photography says:
Great narrative.
It has been many years since i heard the name Philippe Petit, i had completely forgotton about him and his connection to the WTC.
I was about 16 (probably makes me a couple of years older than you) when i first heard about him, I remember him coming to Australia and performing the same feat between the pylons of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Somewhere in my archives I have a photo taken by a colleague of my father, that was given to me, (I will have to see if i can find it now). I think it was a couple of years later that Philippe \"walked\" between the twin towers 1974(?). The mere thought of it makes my heart leap to my mouth. It is a strange irony now, given the events that have now transpired.
I celebrated my 18 birthday in New York and stood at the top if the towers in sheer disbelief of what Philippe Petit had done.
My son left for the USA 5 days ago, he is 21, he will be in South Dakota/Minneapolis for 2 months, staying with his girlfried.
He will visit New York and Ground Zero, and he will stand on the ground, where I once stood in the sky.
I will send him this link, he has never heard of Philippe Petit.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
aleeka salaam says:
What wise words you write...even if you are only an ignorant hick from the country....and that I don't believe for one second!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Pristine Waters says:
Great writing, Todd. The photo is great too. I watched it all unfold on tv and since I have a cousin from Ohio who lives in Manhattan and I'd visited there a few times, it felt personal. Sorry to know that some people you've encountered actually had such unkind words for New York.
An Invite To
SearchTheBest
Please tag \"SearchTheBest\".
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
passionategray81 says:
I love the stories your pictures tell.
For me, I snap a picture and upload it and that's it... nothing behind it in most circumstances.
But yours have much meaning and value behind them. I appreciate it. It makes me think, but it also taps into that creative, passionate, deeper side that rarely comes out now that life has become someone else's priorities.
--
Seen on my Flickr home page. (?)
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Sati K. says:
Fantastic!!
You have a unique view. Please post your photo into the queue at:
Hour of the Diamond Light
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Steel Steve (work, work, work) says:
Interesting information, I knew nothing of this
--
Seen in my contacts' photos. (?)
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Sabine Dukes says:
the hat! I just want to grab that hat!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Cate says:
You write beautifully Todd, this moves me so much...
the geese call to mind the desperate sight of people jumping out of the burning towers, your expression and the story of the tightrope walking Philippe Petit along with the knowledge of what came to pass later is a poignant reminder of how the innocence and wonder of youth can become tainted by later events, often in my mind when I look at my daughter and worry for her future...
the mindless remark you quoted, a terrible reminder of most people's inability to face the reality of things and deal with true emotion...
I'm writing an essay myself now, I'll stop.
But lots to think about with this one, really well wrapped up in a lovely image and poetic words.
I like it, can you tell?
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Cate says:
and I want to grab the hat too!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
h.koppdelaney says:
Wonderful image. Ikarus. It repeats again and again... HKD
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Svijet oko mene says:
just excellent !
--
Seen in my contacts' photos. (?)
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Seeking Zen (Sean Beesley) says:
Awesome
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Ola Auleytner (away) says:
\"The Trade Center was like Icarus\", love your narrative...
Awesome, powerful picture!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
The Lady of Shalot says:
Magic spell of images and words...
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
LiLi S. says:
Very beautiful composition!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
CheshireMoon says:
This is fantastic work. Great story also.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
2wheelz says:
I remember Philip Petit. You right, it was an amazing feat. How about the guy who climbed the Towers in 77, George Willig?
Outstanding composition... your creativity is wonderful!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
bunchadogs & susan says:
Wonderful and I must send you a print I bought this year from a Basenji breeder who is a New Yorker.
I love your images, but I love your narratives, too.
Seen in:
Hour of the Diamond Light
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
thegreensea says:
Fabulous image, well done.
(VIP Room)
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
spleenful says:
You've created an exceptional image here along with such compelling writing. So outstanding!
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
absynthius says:
wonderful- unearthly indeed.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Impetuous Delirious Yesterday says:
I can't say how much I enjoyed the combination of that spellbinding image with your rhythmic incisive prose.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
boo * says:
Lovely and moving - I have always been in awe of Phillipe Petit
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
thereallinda says:
o, i love this surreal picture. the birds wings echo the subject's outstretched arms.
and the hat is perfect.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
Tangent~A (dropping by :) says:
I read the text above a few days ago, no time to comment, interrupted... These are very original, surprising views on all these events. Especially to Europeans like me. I take it as true compassion felt with reasonable, \"unblinded\" distance, so afar from the definitive statements that lead to various extremes. I know the US holds much diversity, including with regards to people. Now, it's the first time I read such views expressed that way. With simplicity, elegance, plus a wonderful touch of poetry. And beautifully written, Sir. The fact that I fully agree is somewhat irrelevant, though I do agree.
Posted 7 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
ki's2 [deleted] says:
chills.....tears....for truths and deaths and lives..
Posted 6 months ago. ( permalink | delete )
HaggisVitae says:
Really, really beautiful.
Posted 3 months ago. ( permalink |")
Late-Night Cocktails with Harvey
Words of Wisdom from Elwood P. Dowd ...
"Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.
I always have a wonderful time, wherever I am, whomever I'm with."
"Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, 'In this world, Elwood, you must be' - she always called me Elwood - 'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me."
"Harvey and I sit in the bars... have a drink or two... play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they're saying, "We don't know your name, mister, but you're a very nice fella." Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We've entered as strangers - soon we have friends. And they come over... and they sit with us... and they drink with us... and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they've done and the big wonderful things they'll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to Harvey... and he's bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that's envy, my dear. There's a little bit of envy in the best of us."
Words of Wisdom from Elwood P. Dowd ...
"Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.
I always have a wonderful time, wherever I am, whomever I'm with."
"Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, 'In this world, Elwood, you must be' - she always called me Elwood - 'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me."
"Harvey and I sit in the bars... have a drink or two... play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they're saying, "We don't know your name, mister, but you're a very nice fella." Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We've entered as strangers - soon we have friends. And they come over... and they sit with us... and they drink with us... and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they've done and the big wonderful things they'll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to Harvey... and he's bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that's envy, my dear. There's a little bit of envy in the best of us."
Late-Night Cocktails with Harvey
Words of Wisdom from Elwood P. Dowd ...
"Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.
I always have a wonderful time, wherever I am, whomever I'm with."
"Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, 'In this world, Elwood, you must be' - she always called me Elwood - 'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me."
"Harvey and I sit in the bars... have a drink or two... play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they're saying, "We don't know your name, mister, but you're a very nice fella." Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We've entered as strangers - soon we have friends. And they come over... and they sit with us... and they drink with us... and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they've done and the big wonderful things they'll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to Harvey... and he's bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that's envy, my dear. There's a little bit of envy in the best of us."
Words of Wisdom from Elwood P. Dowd ...
"Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.
I always have a wonderful time, wherever I am, whomever I'm with."
"Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, 'In this world, Elwood, you must be' - she always called me Elwood - 'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me."
"Harvey and I sit in the bars... have a drink or two... play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they're saying, "We don't know your name, mister, but you're a very nice fella." Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We've entered as strangers - soon we have friends. And they come over... and they sit with us... and they drink with us... and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they've done and the big wonderful things they'll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to Harvey... and he's bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that's envy, my dear. There's a little bit of envy in the best of us."
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