Theater of the absurd

Giants parade ticker tape swirl, originally uploaded by trexfiles23.

My photo really doesn't do this justice--for a minute or so, an unfurled roll of bathroom tissue swirled in front of my office window.

And that pretty much captures one odd line of thought that kept going through my head today.

Knowing that I'd see the parade from my window, I decided last night to check out Cloverfield, the monster movie that most truly echoes the original Godzilla in translating the iconography of a civilian wartime horror into science fiction. Among the all too familiar images: paper from destroyed buildings blowing through the streets.

The particular view you see above, with the dancing unfurled roll--the pit between buildings in the background is Ground Zero.

The connection was brought home during today's civic ritual--and one of the politicians on the dais used that very word--of honoring the team at City Hall. I believe it was the NY Assembly leader who noted that just six years ago, people were opining that this area would never recover from the attack--but now we were all gathered there to mark the Giants' triumph, which was a symbol of the City's own triumphant revival.

That's why I love things like this. On the one side there's the fractal emanation of group identities--today we had family (the Maras, co-owners), team, city, downtown, state, region, nation, fandom, multiple interpretations of the world and the inevitable recasting of most of these in terms of the family metaphor.

Then there's reams of toilet paper lodged on ledges, festooned in trees and piled on the street.