New Yorkers were already partially nuts prior to you-know-when, that insane
day in September, when a "deranged evil-doer" went from being a
high school kid with a shotgun and a Playstation jones to, well, now take
your pick. That day begat a year full of confusion and fear, which some termed
reflection and others, catatonia. It also gave us Project Liberty, the largest
government-sponsored mental health initiative ever launched on a whacked-out
More than a few of us took advantage of the Project Liberty hotline, not simply because they were traumatized by the latest Die Hard installment life had seemed to become, but because now they were certain theyd be able to get their hands on some affordable counseling and/or psycho-pharmaceuticals. The only reason that some of us called was because we thought that Susan Sarandon, herself, who provided the soothing voice in the commercials, would be our personal therapist.
Call us crazy. We were. For a whole year. Let the rest of the country have their citywide book clubs and cow parades. We went through something far bigger, together.
Of Scandinavian origin, crazy. From krasa, to shatter, or crush. Its like a Patsy medley, but its true, when we go crazy, we fall to pieces.
On the twelfth of September this year, we sighed. Like a Bizarro World millennium celebration, a year of madness passed and we found ourselves, surprisingly, pieced back together. Alive.
A few days later, what did we decide to do? Drunk on our new sanity, or our Celexa, we decided it was time to add a little meshugaas, send some of our own flotsam and jetsam to swirl with the wreckage of the USS WWW, create what they used to call during the dot-com gold rush, "an online magazine."
Not so crazy, when you consider that other people decided it was time for a war.
So, here it is: Papotage, brought to you by restaurantflorent.com. Have a seat. Click away. Enjoy. Its not quite green streaks across the Baghdad night sky on CNN, but then, what is?
Oh, and another thing, were pleased to accept cash only.