Ground Zero

It is hard to quantify the impact of September 11th now almost 6 years ago. As I walk by the vast pit of the excavated WTC site ringed by skyscrapers old and new, I cannot think but how poisoned the well of our democracy has become–the result of that unprecedented act of barbarism–how completely we have since handed victory to the gang of religious fanatics who perpetrated the act. The war in Iraq: the lies that justified invasion, the ongoing death and destruction, the damage done to the Constitution, to the separation of powers, to the basic tenants of law and human rights.

Today’s pardon of Lewis Libby by the President is but the latest travesty in a long line of abuses, but perhaps the lowest point to be found in a post-9/11 landscape strip mined of once hallowed moral high ground.

As I watch the tourists scurry around Ground Zero straining for a view into the pit, I understand the curiosity, the voyeurism. I am, after all, a photographer. But I also sense that many are seeking something else more troubling–a whiff of acrid smoke, a frisson of fear. That fear has governed our political lives for six years.