Tuesday we had the TV on. It was weird and unreal, something to be digested later.

Then the plane came down on the Pentagon. That was very real to me. Real, life-size confusion and chaos and fire. Downtown was being evacuated. People were pouring from the Pentagon. It was real. I could see it, smell it, hear it.

The rest of the day I watched TV, avoiding shots of the Pentagon. I wasn’t ready to see it again. Finally, it became unavoidable.

The more I saw on the TV, the more numbing it became. It became less and less real. More abstract. In small soundbites, with flashy logos and slogans. Compartimentalized. I found the footage stomach-turning, 100 times more-so when we found we knew someone on one of those planes. But the more I watched of the coverage, the less real it became. I had to drive by the Pentagon to convince myself it really happened.

Tonight we turned the TV back on. Oliver North was talking crazy on FOX. More distraught family members were on ABC.

The US had been attacked, and on MTV Carson Daly was asking, “Moby, what should we do?” I start to feel like the whole world really is going insane. Moby is on the phone and he has advice! He explains that he found locking himself in his home studio and recording to be healing. I’m sure everyone watching was inspired, or at least everyone watching who had a million dollar recording studio in their home was inspired.

I flee back to the Networks, but by now they’ve become disturbing. The anchors are tired. Not tired like during a long, election night. I mean really tired. I know you’ve noticed it. They’re tired and these perpetually-composed men are coming completely unglued. Unravelling hour by hour right in front of us. I’m really not sure that this is helping. Yes, it shows that everyone is effected, but is this an effective way to bring us the news.

Hours of filler and repetition are making this less real, they aren’t driving the point home. The less you watch, the more disturbing it actually becomes. When you watch one of these anchors for a long stretch, you don’t notice how tired and weird they’re getting. But look away for part of the day and come back and the transformation is somewhat frightening. I know that no one wants to let go. Everyone wants answers. They want to process the horror. But it’s just too much.

I have to go online to find information about the punishing weather in Florida, and even then it’s hard to navigate around the incessant coverage. At least on line, the information is mediated in a different way. I do not have to watch reporters and anchors coming apart at the seams. It’s not great, but it’s better. We want to try to return to our routines, to try to re-establish some order in out lives, but is the very media telling us to do this actually doing it themselves? Where is the balance?

I’ve now completely lost my train of thought, I fear I’m becoming like Peter Jennings and company. Just rambling and rambling with no point, beginning/middle/end, just empty words that go on and on.