I just posted this comment in this MetaFilter thread and for the first time in days I felt an emotion besides numbness and exhaustion. I’m pissed. This city doesn’t need a useless memorial. We need a living, working memorial. New York City is about work 100% of the time. Leisure is crammed into the other 10%.

To rebuild them as they were seems perverse. Maybe if one building had survived we could justify fixing the pair, but that didn’t happen. They knocked them down, we need to build them back better than they were. The best possible memorial to the lives lost is the biggest pair of buildings on the planet. These should dwarf the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur.

The sky over downtown seems like a disfigurement. Everytime anyone looks across the skyline it will remind them that we lost something. To not rebuild those buildings, to not fill that void would be to wallow in defeat.

Fear of another attack can not dissuade us. Everything that can be done to prevent terrorism should be done, but we can not live in fear.

Civilians shouldn’t be in allowed into the dangerous areas (exception being those with specific, needed skills). Let people trained and experienced at following orders work there, they won’t endanger themselves or others through lack of experience. Still, those clouds of building didn’t stay close by. The satellite photos show most of downtown covered in dust.

This is my city. I want to sweep up, I want to clean. Let me help clear Nassau St, Battery Place, Broad Street. Let me clear papers and ash from the steps where George Washington was inaugurated. The buildings on those streets are not in danger of collapsing. I need to help. I need to sweat. I need to do whatever small bit I can to put my city back together.

Today I was determined to stay busy. Doing something, anything. So far I haven’t done much besides watch the news.

Last night I noticed a bunch of links from a homework assignment from the Internet Communications Certificate Design 1: Site Analysis and Design course at the University of Utah. I’m pretty sure I’m only a few clicks away from several links on instructor Judy Kiel’s (nice photos) class resources list. The homework assignment included me in the list of “good sites” which made me happy. I guess they didn’t notice all the pages I never updated to the current look, or the half-finished pages and projects. Interestingly, I know the owner of Tile Nut which was hosted on the same server as my site for a while. Both of us are friends of Lynda Weinman.

Hello to any of those students. You cheered me up.

We sent half of our tax prebate to Amazon’s Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund. When I started this posting, there was $2.4 million, there is now over $3 million. Reloading this page and watching the numbers climb makes me feel better. It’s been rising by $10,000 every five minutes. Knowing $300 of that was ours makes me feel a little bit less useless. Still, $3 million is nothing.

Mayor Giuliani deserves a new degree of respect. I have generally disagreed with him on most policy issues but always respected his conviction. Even more so now. He has demonstrated historic leadership, humanity, humility and grace. Salon has a moving article which mirrors my views pretty well.

I pointed my webcam towards where the World Trade Center was. The cloud of smoke has been visible since, it’s about 2.5km (2 miles) behind the large bulding in the foreground. Last night the wind shifted and we were woken by the smell of acrid smoke. A haze of smoke is filling our neighborhood and many people are walking around with dust masks and handkerchiefs on their faces.

I seem to have developed something of a stock response when asked about all of this. It’s something like, “we’re fine. Our apartment is about two miles north, I heard the second plane hit. I could see the flames. I can’t believe it either.” It’s personally disappointing to repeat myself so much, but wordless is the best word I’ve come up with to describe how I feel.

I’ve read stories about the bombing of London or Hiroshima and the siege of Berlin. I thought I had some sense of sympathy or could imagine how it might have felt to survive those events. Now I know I had no idea, I still have no idea.

Little things mean a lot right now. Church bells ringing at 7:00, people gathering in restaurants. Yesterday mail was delivered even though our neighborhood was closed. Nothing important, a catalog from Pottery Barn and some subscription thing from MacAddict, opening that box, as I do everyday, and finding anything was surprisingly moving.

Thanks and gratitude for the Fire and Police departments can not be adequately conveyed. There are plenty of other ordinary people also helping life go on. The mailmen and women, waiters, waitresses and cooks, checkers and stockers at the markets, delivery men keeping the food in the stores, the phone company for doing their best to re-route the system, the technicians at Time Warner for keeping the cable system running, the Department of Sanitation and all the volunteers from fire and police departments who drove here from other parts of the country.

My brother Ben Maller posted his thoughts. He works at Fox Sports Radio in LA and spent the 11th reading news updates about the World Trade Center attack.

I’m filled with an incredible sense of sadness. Tonight I walked around the neighborhood listening to people. There is nothing else to talk about. It felt kind of like what I imagine an Irish wake would be like. People were drinking in bars and telling stories about the buildings.

It is likely that I will have known someone who died. There have been no meaningful figures or statistics yet, but the number of lives lost will be ghastly. Too many people worked down there and New York City is too small a town not to know a victim.

A few weeks ago my brothers and I visited the towers. I’ve spent a lot of time wandering around down there and recognize every location on the news. It will be unnerving to walk around down there in a few weeks when downtown opens again.

Walking around, there were two moments where I almost lost it. My overall numbness has been baffling. I’ve never teared up, never cried, just floated between numb and sad. If or when I do finally break down it will be a relief. Today has been inconceivably horrible. I can turn off the TV but the real thing is happening just down the street. Sirens go by a couple times an hour breaking the unnatural quiet which has settled over our neighborhood.

I’m going to bed early though I doubt I’ll sleep through the night.

The phones are still iffy, if anyone needs to reach us, use AOL IM.

I had my mother call the Red Cross in California and she found out that I can’t give blood. There doesn’t seem to be much to do besides that. It’s best to just stay out of the way.

I’m still struck by the quiet in the city. Everyone is speaking in hushed voices and staring at the cloud of smoke in disbelief. The sky where the buildings were seems like a disfigurement.

The phones are out, if anyone needs to reach us, use AOL IM.

We’re looking into giving blood. I can’t get through to the American Red Cross at 1-800-GIVE-LIFE (1-800-448-3543). If anyone can find out anything, please let me know. I’ve been to Morocco in the past year and took anti-malaria medication for a trip to Thailand in 1998. I almost feel like lying to them but I know that would be worse.

The phones are out, if anyone needs to reach us, use AOL IM.

We’re about 2 miles (2.5 Km) from where the towers were. It’s would be a beautiful day otherwise. The sun is out and there are no clouds in the sky.

My friend Dave Park just came over. We saw a city bus coming up Avenue A covered in soot. The cloud of dust is starting to reach us, there is a dusty taste in the air, most of the soot looks like powedered accoustic tile.

The flow of people on Avenue A has reversed, now people are walking downtown presumably to look.