.

And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again? Archilochus

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Reading the Letters

CAUTION - Disturbing Images


12 comments:

Always On Watch said...

Finally finding time to watch this video. I hadn't before seen this particular one.

I didn't know until now how fast they fell, nor did I know how many had jumped!

How can so many Americans have decided that 9/11 should be "put behind us"?

Many who witness the falling bodies had to retire on mental disability. I personally know of one member of the Secret Service who had to retire early. She couldn't get the image of exploding heads on the sidewalk out of her mind. If I recall correctly, she was standing behind glass doors in Tower 7, and only the glass prevent her from getting spattered by blood, bone, and brains.

----------

I do not fault the jumpers for what they did. They decided to die at the hands of somebody other than evil terrorists.

Speedy G said...

Ten seconds... ten. It's hard to imagine.

<*shakes head*

Z said...

I had hoped they'd become unconscious very soon but learned shortly after 9/11 that it wasn't the case. I can't watch this too long; obviously, they are the worst scenes from that awful day...I think so, anyway.
Am substitute teaching now (loving it) and asked the kids (who the school had wear names of victims on their shirts, on sticky name tags) if they'd have jumped; most of them said they would have. Only one in the 15 in the group felt this was an 'inside deal' and 'only explosives could have brought the towers down'. I was tremendously gratified when the other 14 rolled their eyes at me as if he was NUTS.

Speedy G said...

I haven't heard of any skydivers ever being rendered "unconscious" unless they were jumping from oxygen deprived altitudes... but I suppose it COULD happen.

And I'm glad to learn that at least 14/15ths of your students have enough on the ball to successfully apply Occam's razor!

Franco Aragosta said...

Meditation on a Tragic Anniversary

A radiant cloudless morning
___ air fresh and clear
______ sky the brightest blue
_________ mood mellow
A lovely young day bright with promise ––

And then a gleaming silver shell appeared
___ mirroring beautifully the morning sunshine
A Thing of Beauty –– but horribly out of place
___ like a spacecraft from an alien planet

Dipping crazily far too low upon the skyline
___ before anyone could feel the menace ––
______ it smashed directly into a gigantic upright construct ––
_________ one of a pair ––

Twin monuments to Greed and Vain Ambition
___ some were quick to say

But sudden violent death eradicated
___ an entire investment firm
______ in one horrific instant ––
_________dozens of bright young lives
incinerated –– gone!

Before dazed onlookers could begin to understand
___ what was happening
______ another silver shell acting as a missile
_________ crashed into the second of the giant pair.

Ugly buildings! A hideous blot
___ on the once-graceful Manhattan skyline.

“Ada Louise Huxtable might secretly rejoice at this,”
___ part of me thought wickedly, for I had always resented
______ the overbearing, outsized twins ––
____________ Bounders! Interlopers ! Invaders!

But before that ruined day was halfway through
___ three-thousand innocents had been
______ burned alive, brains and eyeballs boiled
_________ skulls pulverized, skeletons crushed
between twisting, white hot girders
___ pelted with falling rubble midst the flames
______ caught, crippled, crumpled, smashed to bits ––
Smothered in collapsing stairwells and buried alive
______in a torrent of red hot cinders and debris

In so many ways the scene must have
___ mimicked the final hours of the residents
______ of Pompeii and Herculaneum

And then there were those hideous echoes
___ of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire ––
Where so many jumped to their deaths
___ to escape being burned alive ––
In an instant smashed skulls, broken bones and bloody pulp
___ were all that remained of their vibrant young lives.

And not so long ago in Benghazi –– to mark the anniversary
___ of this Great Triumph of Barbarity over Civilization
______ our young, handsome, well-meaning,
_________ hopelessly naive, ambassador to Libya
was surrounded in his quarters,
___ dragged out into the streets
______ beaten, sodomized and brutally murdered.

But what does any of this matter?
___ What difference does it make?
Let’s just forget about it, and MOVE ON.
___ Might as well.

We are privileged to live in interesting times.

Kyrie eleison!
Kyrie eleison!
Christe eleison!


~ FreeThinke




Franco Aragosta said...

_ Recessional (1897) _

God of our fathers, known of old,   
___ Lord of our far-flung battle-line,   
Beneath whose awful Hand we hold
___ Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,   
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies;
___ The Captains and the Kings depart:   
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
___ An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,   
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

Far-called, our navies melt away;
___ On dune and headland sinks the fire:   
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
___ Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!   
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,   
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose   
___  Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,   
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
___ Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust   
___ In reeking tube and iron shard,
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
___ And guarding, calls not Thee to guard,   
For frantic boast and foolish word—
Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!


~ Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

Franco Aragosta said...

I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes __
I wonder if It weighs like Mine __
Or has an Easier size.

I wonder if They bore it long ––
Or did it just begin ––
I could not tell the Date of Mine ––
It feels so old a pain ––

I wonder if it hurts to live ––
And if They have to try ––
And whether – could They choose between ––
It would not be – to die ––

I note that Some – gone patient long ––
At length, renew their smile ––
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil ––

I wonder if when Years have piled ––
Some Thousands ––on the Harm ––
That hurt them early –– such a lapse ––
Could give them any Balm ––

Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve ––
Enlightened to a larger Pain ––
In Contrast with the Love ––

The Grieved –– are many –– I am told ––
There is the various Cause ––
Death –– is but one –– and comes but once ––
And only nails the eyes ––

There’s Grief of Want –– and grief of Cold ––
A sort they call “Despair” ––
There’s Banishment from native Eyes ––
In sight of Native Air ––

And though I may not guess the kind ––
Correctly –– yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary ––

To note the fashions –– of the Cross ––
And how they’re mostly worn ––
Still fascinated to presume
That Some –– are like my own ––


... Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

(((Thought Criminal))) said...

When a Taliban fighter is hit with a 30mm autocannon round fired from an Apache helicopter, his body explodes with the same force in joules as jumping off a 45 story building.

Happy Patriot's Day.

(((Thought Criminal))) said...

KE = (.3505kg / 2) x (800 m/s x 800 m/s)

KE = .175 x 640,000

KE = 112,160 joules of ass whoopin

Franco Aragosta said...

POSTED as a MEMORIAL TRIBUTE to the VICTIMS of ALL the ISLAMIC MASSACRES and THE LOVED ONES THEY LEFT BEHIND


After great pain
A formal feeling comes
The nerves sit ceremonious –– like tombs.

The stiff hear questions
Was it He that bore ––
And yesterday –– or centuries before?

The feet mechanical go round ––
A wooden way
Of ground or air or ought.

Regardless grown ––
A quartz contentment lie a stone.

This is the hour of lead.
Remembered –– if outlived ––
As freezing persons recollect the snow.

First chill ––
Then stupor ––
Then –– the letting go.


~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Franco Aragosta said...

THE ELVIS HIT THAT NEVER WAS

Burka Baby, please be mine.
Shed your tent and be my Valentine.
Baby, Baby, baby, please let me in.
Drop that veil, c'mon let's sin.

Oh oh oh! Burka Baby, don't you torture me.
You know I want you bad, so let me see
What you got behind that heavy curtain.
Baby baby, through those slits you eyes are flirtin.'

If I can't have you, I'm just gonna die
You know you're gettin' hot, and so am I.
I can hear you hissin.‘ So, let’s start kissin.’
You just don't know what it is you're missin'

KABOOM!!!

Burka Baby, we just hit the sky!
When we hit the ground, we’re gonna die.
Burka Baby, 
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! 

}}}}}} SPLAT {{{{{{{

GOOD BYE!


.. Yu No Hu

Franco Aragosta said...

Everybody has a laughing place
___ a lughing place to go ho ho
Take that frown turn it upside down,
___ and you'll find yiurs I know ho ho.


... Disney?