When FDR spoke before Congress and pinpointed December 7th, 1941 as "a day that will live in infamy", he cast that small fragment of language forward into history and our collective memories. At certain times, often terrible times, something as ephemeral as a few words get cast in stone, or less metaphorically, they become embedded in the frontal lobes of millions, and speak to generations throughout the future, for a "day of infamy" it was, and even the evil truth sometimes perseveres.
So it is in our own generation that September 11th, 2001 strikes this same resonant chord. Something wicked this way came, and life itself—particularly for Americans—was never again to be quite the same.
But it has turned out, unlike 12-07, 9-11 was not the ignition to global conflagration, but perhaps just a very loud, very deadly wake-up call. For it was an act of terror, not an attack of war as war is classically known. Knowing this requires us to examine the implications of 9-11 not only in a military light, but to understand it as, for lack of more accurate word, "theater."
Shortly after the Twin Towers collapsed, the elderly and iconoclastic composer, Karlheinz Stockhausen, commented that what happened that day was a profound and significant work of art. For this, he was, of course, universally condemned, for we want 'art' to be beautiful, decorative, distractive, and preferably hung on a wall. The pundits had a tantrum.
In all my reading I came across only one commentator, the writer Lee Harris, who seemed to understand what Stockhausen was alluding to. Terror is of course 'art', or perhaps 'theater.' The suicide jihadists meta-morphed, metastasized our own benign civilian aircraft into smart fire bombs and Allah's cruise missiles. They sought no conventional battlefield victory over the United States, but they did mean to instill fear permanently into our consciousness.
Of course, Mr. Roosevelt does have one more quote even more famous and permanent than that 'day of infamy' line. As the reader has most likely deduced, that would be the immortal "we have nothing to fear, but fear itself" from his first inaugural.
It works in our times as well as it did in his.
So now it's nine years later, enough time for both world wars of the 20th century to have come and gone—at least in American chronology—since the original "9/11", and nothing even remotely similar has occurred in our backyards. Why this is so is not fully understood and the subject of much speculation. Whatever the "War on Terror" is or is not, the current status of its stumbling vigilance is: 1) that things that could have happened, have not, and 2) that could still all change tomorrow. Some just call it 'the long war' (a phrase somewhat askew of history, for the statistical truth is that our generation has lived in a time less prone to wars than virtually all of our ancestors).
As one clever jihadist once said, "you have the watches, we have the time." That quip might be peculiarly irritating to an Elginite, for we too, once upon time, had more time—and most certainly we had the watches.
But something worth your time is occurring this Saturday—September 11th, 2010—right here in river city. What's happening is a "Happening", that is, a lot is happening, all on the same day.
One of those things happens to be the presentation of a work of art about 9/11 at the Gail Borden Library. Another is the Boys and Girl's Club duck race. Yet another is 'the world's largest block party' in Festival Park. Yet one more is the car show in the City Hall parking lot. But wait, there's more, The Next Wave art event over at 166 Symphony Way, and a dance performance in the Professional Building. If you want to venture just a bit from downtown, Elgin's Historic House Tour is also walking that day.
I may have left something out, for which I apologize, but I'm already exhausted just thinking about all the things to do on this one memory-wrenching autumnal date.
Of course here is where the pundit is supposed to come up with an inspiring conclusion about why so much celebration in one medium-sized city on this infamous date is supposed to mean something—something important, something about renewal of the human spirit, or maybe even something cynically critiquing our blissful ignorance.
However, I have nothing to say along any of those lines. Take Saturday for what it is, a great day to go downtown and be human in Elgin. And by-the-way, details about all these events are conveniently located on this very friendly user-friendly website. So explore the Boca, and then explore your very busy, happening hometown this Saturday.
Carpe Diem dudes!
So it is in our own generation that September 11th, 2001 strikes this same resonant chord. Something wicked this way came, and life itself—particularly for Americans—was never again to be quite the same.
But it has turned out, unlike 12-07, 9-11 was not the ignition to global conflagration, but perhaps just a very loud, very deadly wake-up call. For it was an act of terror, not an attack of war as war is classically known. Knowing this requires us to examine the implications of 9-11 not only in a military light, but to understand it as, for lack of more accurate word, "theater."
Shortly after the Twin Towers collapsed, the elderly and iconoclastic composer, Karlheinz Stockhausen, commented that what happened that day was a profound and significant work of art. For this, he was, of course, universally condemned, for we want 'art' to be beautiful, decorative, distractive, and preferably hung on a wall. The pundits had a tantrum.
In all my reading I came across only one commentator, the writer Lee Harris, who seemed to understand what Stockhausen was alluding to. Terror is of course 'art', or perhaps 'theater.' The suicide jihadists meta-morphed, metastasized our own benign civilian aircraft into smart fire bombs and Allah's cruise missiles. They sought no conventional battlefield victory over the United States, but they did mean to instill fear permanently into our consciousness.
Of course, Mr. Roosevelt does have one more quote even more famous and permanent than that 'day of infamy' line. As the reader has most likely deduced, that would be the immortal "we have nothing to fear, but fear itself" from his first inaugural.
It works in our times as well as it did in his.
So now it's nine years later, enough time for both world wars of the 20th century to have come and gone—at least in American chronology—since the original "9/11", and nothing even remotely similar has occurred in our backyards. Why this is so is not fully understood and the subject of much speculation. Whatever the "War on Terror" is or is not, the current status of its stumbling vigilance is: 1) that things that could have happened, have not, and 2) that could still all change tomorrow. Some just call it 'the long war' (a phrase somewhat askew of history, for the statistical truth is that our generation has lived in a time less prone to wars than virtually all of our ancestors).
As one clever jihadist once said, "you have the watches, we have the time." That quip might be peculiarly irritating to an Elginite, for we too, once upon time, had more time—and most certainly we had the watches.
But something worth your time is occurring this Saturday—September 11th, 2010—right here in river city. What's happening is a "Happening", that is, a lot is happening, all on the same day.
One of those things happens to be the presentation of a work of art about 9/11 at the Gail Borden Library. Another is the Boys and Girl's Club duck race. Yet another is 'the world's largest block party' in Festival Park. Yet one more is the car show in the City Hall parking lot. But wait, there's more, The Next Wave art event over at 166 Symphony Way, and a dance performance in the Professional Building. If you want to venture just a bit from downtown, Elgin's Historic House Tour is also walking that day.
I may have left something out, for which I apologize, but I'm already exhausted just thinking about all the things to do on this one memory-wrenching autumnal date.
Of course here is where the pundit is supposed to come up with an inspiring conclusion about why so much celebration in one medium-sized city on this infamous date is supposed to mean something—something important, something about renewal of the human spirit, or maybe even something cynically critiquing our blissful ignorance.
However, I have nothing to say along any of those lines. Take Saturday for what it is, a great day to go downtown and be human in Elgin. And by-the-way, details about all these events are conveniently located on this very friendly user-friendly website. So explore the Boca, and then explore your very busy, happening hometown this Saturday.
Carpe Diem dudes!
