Facts, details and distinctions were my friend.

Problem is, speaking just for myself? Everything I heard about 9/11 for the first month was immediately contradicted by something else. Had I tried to anchor myself to any of those, my head would have exploded. The *only* fact I knew for certain was that my nephew's business partner had been herded back into the "safety" of WTC2, and had died there, and that a beloved friend's American SiL had lost her entire family.

So, right back to the human side - and honestly, that's the only thing I can work with. Not trusting absolutes does tend to have that one drawback: if the only thing you can believe is the humanity, the rest becomes a nonsense and a hindrance.

But that honestly is just me.

Problem is, speaking just for myself? Everything I heard about 9/11 for the first month was immediately contradicted by something else. Had I tried to anchor myself to any of those, my head would have exploded.

Ah, see, that would only have been a problem if either of us tried to deal with it the way the other one did.

Anyway, the facts etc that I found comforting were more the ones outside the situation, i.e. putting it into a broader context, than the internal stuff. This is all much more stable, facts-wise. I hardly watched the news at all in that week, after the first day at least. (And then I got most of my info from foreign news sources, though that was par for the course.)

Ah, see, that would only have been a problem if either of us tried to deal with it the way the other one did.

You're a wise man, William, you are you are. I couldn't trust a single source out there, and looking at the broader picture scared the shit out of me and made me feel both helpless (which I bloody hate) and murderous (which is not a good way to feel). So I looked where I always look first: the immediacy of the human factor, and what I could do.

Which, entre nous, was pretty much fuck-all. But still....

Problem is, speaking just for myself? Everything I heard about 9/11 for the first month was immediately contradicted by something else. Had I tried to anchor myself to any of those, my head would have exploded.

Deb, the one chuckle I had in the immediate post-9/11 days was from you. Four words: Pentagon. Terrorist pilot. Cthluhlu.

Deb, the one chuckle I had in the immediate post-9/11 days was from you. Four words: Pentagon. Terrorist pilot. Cthluhlu.

And man oh man, the shit I took for that. Heartless! Tasteless!

I still think an Illuminati reference pretty much summed it up, though. Tekelili!

I didn't mean to bitch and run, I was just supposed to leave work. It's been incredibly frustrating from my dry, safe office trying to get help. I can't imagine the frustration of someone who is trying to get down there with no transportation, no home, no anything trying to get help. Which is honestly why I'm doing the calling for them. It's not something they can't do, but really with all the phone trees and hold and everything, I'm probably better emotionally equipped for it.

Seriously, the lady's daughter, who'd had the card with the PO# on it and lost it was talking about killing herself.

I still didn't get it, but I called her back to let her know that I was leaving, but that I'd be back in the morning and would give it a go then.

And now that I'm home, I get to...sit on hold with the bank because the ATM ate my paycheck.

Deb, the one chuckle I had in the immediate post-9/11 days was from you. Four words: Pentagon. Terrorist pilot. Cthluhlu.

Now I want the Pentagon to start adopting an abstract approach to naming their military operations. I want an Operation Cthulhu, dammit! Or maybe I want to imagine Cthulhu playing Operation. I bet he'd have trouble with all the fiddly work.

Pardon me boy... Is-that-the-Calling-of-Cthulhu? Track 29, madness outside of time...

I didn't mean to bitch and run

Sweetie, you, of all people on this earth right now? May bitch straight into my ear as long, loud and continuous as you like.

The best I was able to do was a bake sale to raise money for Katrina relief. I wish to high heaven there was something a bit more recondite I could pull off.

Pardon me boy... Is-that-the-Calling-of-Cthulhu? Track 29, madness outside of time...

"What the hell do you mean, someone put the Shoggoth in charge of the mopup? Idiot! You KNOW the Elder Gods love meat in a tube, and that's how they see the humans!"

Deb, the one chuckle I had in the immediate post-9/11 days was from you. Four words: Pentagon. Terrorist pilot. Cthluhlu.

And man oh man, the shit I took for that. Heartless! Tasteless!

Heh. Well, everyone's tastes in humor differ. It made me chuckle then, and it makes me snort with laughter now, the idea of the terrorist pilot looking down on the Pentagon, and the last thing he ever sees is a huge tentacle coming straight at him out of the Pentagon's sub-basement.