It may well develop that there are 16 arces of sacred gound in China.

Ground Zero is spiraling every deeper into a Derridean nightmare, a farce that manages to interweave Seinfeld-esque concentric circles of absurd nothingness with every tautly argued theory of postmodern regression. Oh, wait, those are the same thing. Can we go home yet?

No, we learned abruptly that morning four years ago, yet are still reminded regularly every time the preznit wants to distract from his abysmal efforts to ape leadership or hand a pile of money to a crony — for him, the same thing — and no, we can’t. Not having produced any commentary in a timely fashion means I keep tearing up (a nice anachronism, no?) copy as a fresh absurdity is delivered. So a quick recap:

ACT I. Braying of the Families reaches the usually tone deaf ears of the governor. New boundaries of sacredness are established, and institutions with names like ‘Freedom’ are thusly banned. People resign, everyone looks askance, embarrassed by this charade of public review, but quiet sighs are released, figuring the worst elements will now be silent.

ACT II. The Families pull a fast one, decrying the previously heralded PATH station as likewise invalid. Apparently commuting is as morally repugnant as a photo of MLK, a coincidence which begs for an ironic Rosa Parks comment.

The source of this new friction is not the just-add-water tour de force of Calatrava’s glassine hat, but instead with the location of the train tunnels proper. The PATH station is a loop that encompasses most of the 16 acre parcel of the WTC site, and a portion of tunnels cut beneath the Sacred Footprints (TM pending, I expect) and the Memorial Quadrant (likewise), a fact that was discussed in a cursory way at the outset of the site planning, but there was a quiet, if ugly, tacit agreement that, well, there’s sacred, and then there’s sacred, and no one really wanted to put a price tag on that… until now.

[Interlude] One does admire the dogged and argumentatively rigorous stance of the Families. I had drafted and discarded posts in the past about the hypocrisy of attacking the various cultural program elements but remaining silent about the incursion of the train lines. But rather than simply rest on their ludicrous laurels, they began what might be a whisper campaign against the performing arts building — which is clearly outside the Sacred Quadrant (and cheek and jowl with the Freedom Tower), not to mention quite a ways from any practical realization — meaning we now should now perhaps start saying the Memorial Irregular Polygon.

ACT III. Last week, however, the stakes were upped considerably, when the PANYNJ brought out the BFG: Shopping. Every two-bit wingnut ideologue can take a piece out of a art-based non-profit, but Shopping, well, we’re in the cornerstone of American identity territory (one would have argued Freedom was similarly one, but Curious George dispelled that misconception several weeks ago). Renderings of the Calatrava vitrine enrobed in some of New York’s finest brand logos were released last week, carefully qualified by the promise that ‘no’ retail would be permitted within the Quadrant. Perhaps the PANYNJ wasn’t cc’d about the new Boundary of Sacredness. And Kenneth Ringler, the authority’s executive director, apparently hasn’t looked at a master plan lately — the last one I saw was the proverbial spaghetti mess of services and interconnections that stray throughout the quadrant. It should be an interesting experience; perhaps they will have a large line painted on the concourse to denote the sacred and the profane. Watch out Metro hawkers! The Families have yet to pass judgment on this, but I imagine it’s because there isn’t anything to attack yet — the renderings were entirely speculative, lacking any committed tenants.

ACT IV. Speaking of large blocks of untenanted space, Mike Bloomberg stopped his campaign finance printing press long enough to intone that perhaps, Larry, It Is Time To Go. Perhaps this is Bloomberg’s legacy gambit, as some have suggested even before his power play. It should be noted that Silverstein has about four billion good reasons why he thinks he will still have a say.

And though I agree wholeheartedly with the mayor, the dim spot in his technocratic, delegation-is-hott mayoralty has been to reach out to developers and planners who subscribe whole-heatedly to the soul-crushing bland corporatism championed by the Maestro of Mediocrity, David Childs. What’s he going to do, replace Silverstein with Boston Properties? Ratner? Brookfield? Vornado? The list is as dull as it is long.

There is no real coda to this tale; all we can expect is Dan Doctoroff to burst through the door like Kramer, to lusty cheers and inexplicable laughter.

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