From the window of my Lower East Side apartment I can see the twin lights blast up into the night sky and I feel… conflicted. If you are looking for some life lessons that come out of thinking about 9/11 then look no further than the ever-awesome Penelope Trunk.
Because this isn’t exactly one of those posts. It’s also not not one of those posts. Settle in… this will take a while.
Like you, I subscribe to a lot of blogs I’m in only tangental agreement with. Genuinely, I believe this is a psychologically healthy thing to do. One of mine is wacky 80s New Age anachronism, Stuart Wilde. (The Quickening actually still holds up pretty well.) He posted recently about having repeated visions of 9/11.
Thing is… so have I. Except in my case this probably has more to do with my unconscious really just urging me to pin my colours to the wall when it comes to the defining crime of the twenty first century. (Th defining physical crime, anyway. There’s that whole global financial crisis to consider.)
Picture crushing a beer can on your chest. You’re probably not going to internally collapse at freefall speed and turn to dust mid-air as a result.
Don’t care for the analogy? I’ll meet you half way.
You’re also not going to turn to dust and collapse mid-air at freefall speeds even if I fill the beer can with kerosene and light it. (Sidebar: what have you done to piss me off so much??)
Except this is exactly the ‘roadrunner physics’ we are expected to choke down from the official explanation of what happened that day. An official explanation that took someone as smart as Gore Vidal -one of the twentieth century’s mot insightful men- a year to call bullshit on… if only for the connections between the Bush and Bin Laden families, rather than the absurdities inherent in the physical explanation.
Let’s have it explained to us by a Russian military expert in a sexy accent:
Aluminium planes cannot penetrate six feet of steel and concrete, let alone slip unhindered into it like a hot knife going through butter. (Leaving a preposterous outline of the wings. Wings that flap like washing in the breeze during a normal landing in clear weather.) And like the burning beer can I have inexplicably assaulted you with, they also cannot turn buildings into freefalling dust.
Which leads us to the troubling question of whether there were any planes at all. Did you see any? What exactly do you think you saw? And whose testimony are you relying on? Because there were an unusual number of broadcast media professionals being interviewed as eyewitnesses on that morning and what they say bears little resemblance to what the plebs -who heard explosions and saw no planes- report on camera.
Not only is it impossible for aluminium planes to slip into reinforced steel and concrete unhindered, it is somehow more impossible for the nosepiece of said planes to emerge intact out the other side, which they do in the couple of shots you have seen repeated endlessly on every major network.
So… if it’s not planes in New York… then what? And what can you say about it all without being killed? (Some are clearly accidents, others are terrifyingly unlikely to be.)
What about elsewhere? Wouldn’t it be great if a bunch of pilots diligently put together reams of radar and audio information in an attempt to understand what did or didn’t happen that morning and where the military comms failures happened?
As for the physics of what could have happened that day? I consider Dr Judy Wood’s analysis remains successfully uncontested. It does, however, raise a number of implications that most people have difficulty keeping in their head.
Chief among them: Exactly where do you get a directed torsion energy weapon and who clearly has access to them? She wisely leaves these alone to focus on the incontrovertible physical assertions:
- Seismic readings don’t record buildings of that weight collapsing.
- If buildings of that weight had collapsed they would have burst ‘the bathtub’ and flooded lower Manhattan.
- In order to collapse that fast, debris would have to be ejected from the base of the buildings at Mach 1.
- From available images there is only about 10% of the total expected debris in the holes created.
- Survivors in the basement looked up and saw blue sky above them. They did not see the more than a hundred stories of toilets, phones, desks and bodies you should otherwise find.
- Damage on cars as far away as FDR drive is consistent with torsion effects and is impossible to achieve from a collapsing building a half mile away.
- World Trade Center 7.
Please do watch the whole thing. I know I’ve shared it before but still… watch it.
I appreciate this is difficult to hold in your head. I appreciate that some of these implied scenarios ominously hint at secret space programs and parallel scientific models based on Nazi research brought over with World War II.
I appreciate that I am insinuating the ultimate democratic betrayal but to that may I just say what apocalypse are you watching?
Because this is New York. Epicentre of the American Century and current capital of the world. Nazi fortunes are laundered through it, giant statues of Isis are installed in its rivers, entire nations crumble when its stock exchange gets the hiccups. Where else would a crime of this scale be perpetrated? A Hawaiian harbour or a south Asian coastline evidently just wouldn’t cut it this time.
And so we come to the crux of the conundrum.
The cornerstone of my magic relies on living in a world where you can stack thousands of verifiable NDEs together via the internet and perform peer-reviewed meta-analysis, where you can see images and radar pictures of cities sunk off the coast of Cuba, where hundreds of geologists will club together and say the Sphinx is 15,000 years old.
Here be fireflies. My magic works better in a universe that tastes better.
There is, sadly, a dark side to collating physical evidence of our magical universe. And that is that it does indeed have a dark side. That a world that has vast sunken cities, takes photos of artificial structures on the moons of Mars and piles up mountains of unassailable evidence of NDEs also has invisible death rays and shadowy cabals and egregores that have got loose on their makers and gone all Jurassic Park on them.
So it is that on this date I prostrate myself before the altar of the Light to pray for the innocent souls of those -right across the world- who were sacrificed on the altar of the Dark… and to pray for the souls of those who must live with the spell the Dark did cast.