Freedom

Freedom

From "The Barrister" at Maggie's Farm:

Politicians of all stripes hate free markets, because free markets aren't political. Free markets are just the expression of the free choices of free people. In daily life, free markets are more of an expression of a free people than is voting.

The free market is like having an election all over the country countless times every single day. Our business on the formal election days is to make sure no one takes away our power of election the rest of the time.

9/11/10

September 11th, 2010:

As every year, I will repost my poem Enid & Geraint. It must be among the oldest poems about 9/11, for I wrote it on that day, in the afternoon, when I could no longer watch the television replays of the falling towers. I shut off the machine, and went out into the forest, down to the creek that ran through the woods. I crossed it halfway onto an island, and sat among the stones and wrote this.

Enid & Geraint

Once strong, from solid
Camelot he came
Glory with him, Geraint,
Whose sword tamed the wild.
Fabled the fortune he won,
Fame, and a wife.

The beasts he battled
With horn and lance;
Stood farms where fens lay.
When bandits returned
To old beast-holds
Geraint gave them the same.

And then long peace,
Purchased by the manful blade.
Light delights filled it,
Tournaments softened, tempered
By ladies; in peace lingers
the dream of safety.

They dreamed together. Darkness
Gathered on the old wood,
Wild things troubled the edges,
Then crept closer.
The whispers of weakness
Are echoed with evil.

At last even Enid
Whose eyes are as dusk
Looked on her Lord
And weighed him wanting.
Her gaze gored him:
He dressed in red-rust mail.

And put her on palfrey
To ride before or beside
And they went to the wilds,
Which were no longer
So far. Ill-used,
His sword hung beside.

By the long wood, where
Once he laid pastures,
The knight halted, horsed,
Gazing on the grim trees.
He opened his helm
Beholding a bandit realm.

Enid cried at the charge
Of a criminal clad in mail!
The Lord turned his horse,
Set his untended shield:
There lacked time, there
Lacked thought for more.

Villanous lance licked the
Ancient shield. It split,
Broke, that badge of the knight!
The spearhead searched
Old, rust-red mail.
Geraint awoke.

Master and black mount
Rediscovered their rich love,
And armor, though old
Though red with thick rust,
Broke the felon blade.
The spear to-brast, shattered.

And now Enid sees
In Geraint's cold eyes
What shivers her to the spine.
And now his hand
Draws the ill-used sword:
Ill-used, but well-forged.

And the shock from the spear-break
Rang from bandit-towers
Rattled the wood, and the world!
Men dwelt there in wonder.
Who had heard that tone?
They did not remember that sound.

His best spear broken
On old, rusted mail,
The felon sought his forest.
Enid's dusk eyes sense
The strength of old steel:
Geraint grips his reins.

And he winds his old horn,
And he spurs his proud horse,
And the wood to his wrath trembles.
And every bird
From the wild forest flies,
But the Ravens.

My Memory of 9-11

I took the above notes while in my office at 71st Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues, on September 11, 2001. We had managed to get through to the Internet for a few minutes, or -- and -- I was also on the phone with my Mother on Long Island, who was giving me info. At the time of writing the note, only one tower was down.

I remember I was in class at Hunter College earlier that morning (studying Urban Affairs, no less), and there was a commotion in the hall.  We had a speaker due to our class that was running really late so the door was open. Another professor walked in and said "Two planes flew into the World Trade Center." 

Two planes... I knew it was no accident. And an image popped in my mind that I still cannot explain: of both towers toppling over. Not crumbling, as they did, but toppling over, and I knew what a victory that would be to maniacs in the Middle East. Actually, I'm not sure I consciously thought "Middle East" but I did picture it and its people cheering -- not a sight so unusual with regard to something bad happening to the U.S.. These thoughts all took place in less than ten or fifteen seconds and they were mostly visual, not even fully formed sentences in my mind.

You could see smoke rising up (we were on the 17th floor looking south, straight down Lexington Avenue) between the buildings in the horizon (not the actual Trade Center but some buildings). A bunch of us left Hunter and headed to where we needed to go. I got to the street, turned the corner at 68th Street and 3rd Avenue, walking north to 71st, and heard a woman who I imagined had gotten her mother on the phone and said, in a shaky voice, "have you heard from Eileen?" I'll never forget her voice. I think she was asking about her sister. We literally were walking past one another. Eddie Bauer was on that corner. It's not there now but I remember it.