This movie was not only massively confusing and had no apparent plot, it was a depressing snapshot of New York life that had absolutely no connection to 9/11 as far as I could tell. Poorly edited and ambiguously written, the array of mini stories never connect and mostly consist of people struggling with the troubles of life ending their problems badly; a top-notch cake designer rises to the top and drives her competitor to suicide, one of a close-knit pair of VIP security guards has an affair and his guilt is hurriedly swept away by his partner, and a jovial, light-hearted office worker is crushed into utter depression by his manipulative psychiatrist, who is supposedly bringing him to "realization" of his "buried rage." But perhaps the most disturbing was the couple with a troubled son who ultimately ship off the child "far away" so they can focus on their own sexual gratification. This film highlights the ever-growing "culture of self" that permeates society today: the elimination of natural challenged and struggles of life, both God-given as in the case with the troubled boy and his parents, or self-inflicted, as in the case with the guilty security guard, by focusing on what makes "me" happy, disregarding moral law and society in general. If this is the great new wonderful, I want no part in it.