Resumen de "Temperate and Nearly Cloudless": The 9/11 Commission Report as Postmodern Pastiche
�Tuesday, September 11, 2001 dawned temperate and nearly cloudless in the eastern United States�. Thus begins Chapter One of the 9/11 Commission Report, a chapter that bears the title, ��We have Some Planes��. As with all good pop fiction, the reader awaits to see what this quote means, although we know already that it will mark a crucial moment, one that renders the innocuous urgent, or gives meaning to a startling chaos of coincidence. Pop culture has taught us the formula well: Everything looks fine; high school kids sip pop and dance in front of the juke box; Ole Doc Jones is mowin� the lawn while Mrs. Jones makes lemonade. BUT strange noises have been heard in the cellar; no one can find the cat; Mr. Grundy insists he saw flashing lights last night, but no one believes him because Mrs. Grundy says he�s been acting strange ever since she flushed his Viagra; mysteriously, all the clocks in Indianapolis have started running fast or slow by exactly 24 hours. Then we hear the message on the police radio: �we�ve got some planes�as large as football fields hovering over every Wall-Mart in the nation�. At last someone will believe the geeky newspaper boy and his big brother�s girlfriend, who knew all along he was on to something. Let�s hope it�s not too late
