BuzzMachine
by Jeff Jarvis

March 29, 2002

Dead letter box
: Penthouse's parent company is in danger of folding.

Arafat's Panic Room
: Question: What happens if Israel does kill Arafat? They say they're not trying to, but they're attacking his headquarters, as he cowers in one room. A stray bullet or missile or angry soldier could take him out. What then? War tonight?
: Dear Mrs. Arafat, says Tres Producers.

Sorry we blew your husband up. We were trying to "isolate" him from the rest of his terrorist leadership, and we ended up “isolating” his ass from the rest of him. Our mistake.
Nightmares
: I had nightmares last night. People have often asked me whether I've had them, after 9.11. I haven't, not many anyway. And if I did, I wouldn't talk about them as if they had meaning. I hate dream sequences in movies and books; they try to infer meaning where it does not necessarily exist. Besides, they're boring.
My nightmares came directly from something I heard on Howard Stern the other day: A guy was promoting high-rise-escape parachutes and he doing a reasonable job of it, simply arguing that having these things would be better than nothing. He explained that in talking to fire departments about high-rise fires he learned that people who fall usually do not jump -- as we all assumed people did at the World Trade Center. ("How terrible must it be up there if people are jumping?" we all asked.) He said that people trapped in these fires go to windows for air and as they struggle for oxygen, they lean farther and farther out windows to escape the smoke but then they pass out and they fall. He said he believed that most of the people who fell out of the World Trade Center towers were unconscious when they fell. Somehow, that made me feel better. The images of those people are the most horrible images I live with from that day; I will not talk about them. I shudder to think what they had to be thinking. But if I'm to believe this man, they were not conscious. Small comfort.
But last night, I had the nightmares about falling and not being able to get a parachute on and dropping the parachute, nightmares that played into my fear of heights and falling and into the horror and fear of 9.11.

I've been thinking lately that the time is coming to stop talking about all this, for surely there are folks who are thinking, "Get a life, man; get a grip; move on." They'd be right. I've said it myself.
And then we all saw the story this week that said that there was a higher rate of depression among people who live near the World Trade Center:

More than 150,000 adults living in the southern half of Manhattan suffered post-traumatic stress or depression following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, according to the first detailed study of the psychological aftershocks.
The survey, conducted five to eight weeks after the attacks, found nearly double the usual rate of psychiatric illness: 7.5 percent of interviewed Manhattanites living below 110th Street had post-traumatic stress disorder and 9.7 percent had depression linked to the terrorism.
When I saw that, I thought the number was ludicrously low. Less than 10 percent were depressed? Hell, that many New Yorkers have always been depressed. After 9.11, all of New York was depressed to one degree or another. Half of New York still is.
And that's normal; that is a quite sane reaction to this insane event and insane times.
I don't go to therapy. I don't poo-poo it for others but I do for myself. It's my job as a mature adult to cope and I'm coping just fine. Thank goodness, I don't need shrinks or drugs to help me cope.
I'm coping with even this; most are. But still, I have reason to be depressed; we all do. It is a proper response to everything that has happened to be depressed and sad and scared and angry. It is a proper response to have nightmares.

And so, I cannot imagine living in Israel today. The danger comes from everywhere: on buses, at Passover Seders with old people in hotels, and today, in the grocery store. The evil is all around. Life is a nightmare. I don't know how they cope.


: Amygdala picks up the baton in the blogwatching relay race and does a damn fine job of it.

Good Friday
: From Killing the Buddah, Jon Hooten shares observations appropriate to the news and the day:

While Judas took 30 pieces of silver, Cardinal Law is giving his 30 (million) pieces away. Some might consider Law's settlement an act of justice, a payment of reparation for those so grievously wronged over the years. Yet, the heart of the comparison of Cardinal Law to Judas Iscariot lies not in the accounting. The rub is in the betrayal, what is lost in the exchange.
: And Tony Pierce advises:
i havent spread the word in so long and here it is Good Friday and this is what i'll say about it.
read a few chapters of the Good Book this weekend.
it might surprise you.
I see so little religion in life, I'm surprised to see so much religion online.

Dead letter box
: Penthouse's parent company is in danger of folding.

Arafat's Panic Room
: Question: What happens if Israel does kill Arafat? They say they're not trying to, but they're attacking his headquarters, as he cowers in one room. A stray bullet or missile or angry soldier could take him out. What then? War tonight?
: Dear Mrs. Arafat, says Tres Producers.

Sorry we blew your husband up. We were trying to "isolate" him from the rest of his terrorist leadership, and we ended up “isolating” his ass from the rest of him. Our mistake.
Nightmares
: I had nightmares last night. People have often asked me whether I've had them, after 9.11. I haven't, not many anyway. And if I did, I wouldn't talk about them as if they had meaning. I hate dream sequences in movies and books; they try to infer meaning where it does not necessarily exist. Besides, they're boring.
My nightmares came directly from something I heard on Howard Stern the other day: A guy was promoting high-rise-escape parachutes and he doing a reasonable job of it, simply arguing that having these things would be better than nothing. He explained that in talking to fire departments about high-rise fires he learned that people who fall usually do not jump -- as we all assumed people did at the World Trade Center. ("How terrible must it be up there if people are jumping?" we all asked.) He said that people trapped in these fires go to windows for air and as they struggle for oxygen, they lean farther and farther out windows to escape the smoke but then they pass out and they fall. He said he believed that most of the people who fell out of the World Trade Center towers were unconscious when they fell. Somehow, that made me feel better. The images of those people are the most horrible images I live with from that day; I will not talk about them. I shudder to think what they had to be thinking. But if I'm to believe this man, they were not conscious. Small comfort.
But last night, I had the nightmares about falling and not being able to get a parachute on and dropping the parachute, nightmares that played into my fear of heights and falling and into the horror and fear of 9.11.

I've been thinking lately that the time is coming to stop talking about all this, for surely there are folks who are thinking, "Get a life, man; get a grip; move on." They'd be right. I've said it myself.
And then we all saw the story this week that said that there was a higher rate of depression among people who live near the World Trade Center:

More than 150,000 adults living in the southern half of Manhattan suffered post-traumatic stress or depression following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, according to the first detailed study of the psychological aftershocks.
The survey, conducted five to eight weeks after the attacks, found nearly double the usual rate of psychiatric illness: 7.5 percent of interviewed Manhattanites living below 110th Street had post-traumatic stress disorder and 9.7 percent had depression linked to the terrorism.
When I saw that, I thought the number was ludicrously low. Less than 10 percent were depressed? Hell, that many New Yorkers have always been depressed. After 9.11, all of New York was depressed to one degree or another. Half of New York still is.
And that's normal; that is a quite sane reaction to this insane event and insane times.
I don't go to therapy. I don't poo-poo it for others but I do for myself. It's my job as a mature adult to cope and I'm coping just fine. Thank goodness, I don't need shrinks or drugs to help me cope.
I'm coping with even this; most are. But still, I have reason to be depressed; we all do. It is a proper response to everything that has happened to be depressed and sad and scared and angry. It is a proper response to have nightmares.

And so, I cannot imagine living in Israel today. The danger comes from everywhere: on buses, at Passover Seders with old people in hotels, and today, in the grocery store. The evil is all around. Life is a nightmare. I don't know how they cope.


: Amygdala picks up the baton in the blogwatching relay race and does a damn fine job of it.

Good Friday
: From Killing the Buddah, Jon Hooten shares observations appropriate to the news and the day:

While Judas took 30 pieces of silver, Cardinal Law is giving his 30 (million) pieces away. Some might consider Law's settlement an act of justice, a payment of reparation for those so grievously wronged over the years. Yet, the heart of the comparison of Cardinal Law to Judas Iscariot lies not in the accounting. The rub is in the betrayal, what is lost in the exchange.
: And Tony Pierce advises:
i havent spread the word in so long and here it is Good Friday and this is what i'll say about it.
read a few chapters of the Good Book this weekend.
it might surprise you.
I see so little religion in life, I'm surprised to see so much religion online.

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