A New Mask
Atlantic, The, November, 2001 by David Carr
To have the attention of a nation is hardly novel in a city that's been ground zero for more than a century. Living in the Mae West of municipalities, New Yorkers are used to people staring. People live here because they want to be noticed. But New York's starring role in history's most viewed piece of videotape—a whole new genre of terror porn—brings with it not just more notoriety but unwanted sympathy.
New Yorkers can stand anything save the nation's pity. However well-meaning, and however important for those who give and those who receive, the sympathy alters only the isolation of the tragedy, not its dimensions. And once the questions from distant relations switched from Where were you? to How are you?, people here did not know how to respond. As with the huge quantities of blood that arrived after the attack, New York is having trouble finding places to ...