The Zong

Senator Dianne Feinstein
United States Senate
331 Hart Senate Office Building
Washington, D.C. 20510

September 25, 2007

Dear Sen. Feinstein:

As one of your constituents, I was perusing your voting record the other day and could not help but notice your vote of “Yea” on Amendment 2934 to H.R. 1585, namely the amendment condemning “personal attacks on the honor and integrity of General Petraeus and all members of the United States Armed Forces.” As I am a registered, voting Democrat and you are a former Mayor of my home city of San Francisco, I can appreciate your enthusiasm for large government. I do find it troubling when my elected representatives on the federal level decide to take time to address issues that they probably shouldn’t, such as “Freedom Fries” or Terri Schiavo, especially when our country is at war, but since I’ve voted for you twice now, I guess I should afford you an opportunity to explain to me why this issue is so important that it deserves the attention of the Senate and of my elected representatives in said legislative body.

While your staff is working out your reply to my inquiry, I thought maybe I’d point out some advertisements (while we’re condemning ads) that I find similarly offensive to the MoveOn.org ad that I would like to see the Senate address with ineffectual, non-binding legislation:

• Kraft cheese recently ran a television ad for their Cheese Crumbles, beginning with the invocation: “Let’s Get Ready to Cruuuumblllle!” It then chooses as its heinous soundtrack the hit single “Unbelievable” by the band EMF, but chooses to change the refrain to—and I’m quoting here—“You’re CRUMBelievable!” Putting aside the obvious disregard for decency here and this product’s overall contribution to our great nation’s obesity problem, I’d like to see a resolution condemning the word “crumbelievable” because it shows a lack of respect for English scholars everywhere.

• I’m interested in seeing a blanket condemnation of any and all ads for fast food chains that feature slender, attractive people. Many of these ads have cropped up recently, and the most recent of these ads is the “Flat Buns” commercial for Carl’s Jr., which features a shapely young woman dancing in titillating fashion as part of a campaign ad for an exceptionally fattening hamburger. Condemning ads such as this would send a strong message to the American people that the Senate will not allow greedy burger vendors, through blatant, salacious verisimilitude, to pass off their gristly (but tasty) products as health food.

• Comcast out here in San Francisco is still running an ad that I find insensitive to our cherished Asian community, featuring a man tattooed as a tiger having a phone conversation with a supposedly Asian-sounding tattoo artist who concludes the conversation by saying “Sorry Rogah, you tigah now!” This commercial should be condemned because I laugh at it every time it comes on, and it makes me think that maybe I’m a racist.

This is by no means an exhaustive catalog of ads I’d like to see condemned, and I will be compiling a much more comprehensive list as time goes on, to be furnished to your office (and Speaker Pelosi’s), probably in Microsoft Excel format (if you guys can open that kind of file) and replete with running times, media outlets, photocopies and links to YouTube. I’ll be happy to post your reply on my Weblog (www.theZong.net) where I hope it will stimulate a lively discussion about the Democratic-controlled Senate’s current job-approval rating of 11%. Thanks for your time and efforts in preserving our country’s security from public dissent, and I look forward to your reply.

Warm Regards,

Matt Glaser
San Francisco, CA

P.S. – Next time you see Senator Boxer, please let her know that I found her appearance on “Curb Your Enthusiasm” to be pretty hilarious.

cc: Speaker Nancy Pelosi, The San Francisco Chronicle

Watching teams like the Patriots and Indianapolis play football this weekend, I was reminded about how, over the course of a decade or so, a bunch of football franchises will embody a certain character or personality that they will carry with them into rivalries and championships from year to year. The Brady-Belichick Pats (recent controversy notwithstanding) have the win at all costs, all-business ruthlessness that reminds me of the the Parcells-Era New York Football Giants, a team that dismantled many of its opponents much like the Patriots have done thus far this season. The Manning-Dungy Colts have ushered in a precision and class in their own dominance that reminds me of Bill Walsh’s Best Niner teams, and one could go on and on about the teams led by Jeff Fisher, Bill Cowher, etc. It has very little to do with whether the team is successful on any given Sunday, and much more about how they go about winning and losing.

What kind of character, then, is being developed by Mike Nolan’s 49ers? They are 2-1 but could very, very easily be 0-3. Here’s Alex Smith, after yesterday’s rout at the hands of the Steelers:

“We left some plays out there on the field. There were big chunks there,” Smith said. “That was a good defense we faced. And I think we’ll learn a lot from this game.”

He’s right about the defense. Pittsburgh has a great one. A defense that hasn’t allowed an individual 100-yard rushing performance since 2005 isn’t the kind of defense you’re gonna have a great day against when your only weapon is a running back. It’s kind of the coaches’ responsibility to address that, maybe by opening up the passing game a bit.

But that’s not the point. I’ve been listening to Alex Smith and Mike Nolan and countless other players talking about how they will be “learning” from the losses this team suffers (for more than two seasons now), and while that’s a great trait to instill in your organization, it’s not the character that I’m seeing this team develop just yet. If anything, Alex Smith looks as if he’s regressed this season from last, and an offense that looked improved and healthy on paper has been nothing short of tedious to watch for the first three games. I’m not sure who should shoulder the blame, but the more times I hear the players talk about learning from mistakes and losses, the less I think they’re actually learning from them. I didn’t expect them to win in Pittsburgh this weekend, but I was hoping they’d score a touchdown before there were 2 minutes left in the game.

So while Belichick’s Pats continue to refine themselves, what kind of character will the Niners develop under Nolan? Will they be the team that returns from adversity with a vengeance, the team that continually learns and improves, or just another mediocre franchise that says the right things after the games?

An excerpt from a statement just posted on BarryBonds.com:

Dear Fans,

This journal will be one of my last entries as a San Francisco Giant. Yesterday, I was told by the Giants that they will not be bringing me back for the 2008 season. During the conversation with Peter McGowan I was told that my play this year far exceeded any expectations the Giants had, but that the organization decided this year would be my last season in San Francisco. Although I am disappointed, I’ve always said baseball is a business — and I respect their decision. However, I am saddened and upset that I was not given an earlier opportunity to properly say goodbye to you, my fans, and celebrate with the city throughout the season as I truly believe this was not a last minute decision by the Giants, but one that was made some time ago. I don’t have nor do I want any ill feelings towards the organization, I just wish I had known sooner so we had more time to say our goodbyes and celebrate the best 15 years of my life.

I would have loved nothing more than to retire as a Giant in the place where I call home and have shared so many momentous moments with all of you, but there is more baseball in me and I plan on continuing my career. My quest for a World Series ring continues.

Until next time,

Barry Bonds

Assuming for a moment that this is actually happening (it wouldn’t be the first time he said he wasn’t coming back as a negotiation ploy), it seems as if the Giants may actually start to rebuild this franchise with a little youth. The problem is, with the farm system in shambles and a payroll bloated with players almost as old as Barry is, it’s going to be years before the franchise recovers from a rash of terrible decisions made by McGowan and Sabean over the past several seasons. All the years of selling out games because of Barry Bonds are at an end; it’s now time for ownership to see first hand the kind of fan base they’ve cultivated, the kind of team they’ve paid to put on the field, and the amount of money they’re going to lose as the franchise becomes the new long-term resident of the N.L. West Cellar. Nicely done, assholes!

UPDATE:  Looks like it’s real. The Giants have confirmed the story.

A few quick thoughts on the Taser(tm) incident down at the U of F:

1. If you’re surprised that this happened in the United States, then you haven’t been to Florida in awhile. The use of non-lethal or not-necessarily-lethal weapons by cops all over the country is fast becoming a great way for Anytown’s Finest to get their jollies without the threat of going to prison, and in Florida, maybe this represents progress. Before the Taser existed, they probably would have shot the fucking kid to death.
2. To all the folks who think that it’s some sort of revelation that Andrew Meyer went into that Q&A with an agenda to annoy the shit out of everyone and so he deserved what he got, I say your revelation-muscle needs a little more action. The real issue here is that no matter how annoying someone is, if he isn’t actually threatening or hurting someone, It seems that there’s little justification to pump 50,000 volts into his body when you’ve got him outnumbered 6 to 1 and his only weapon is a book nobody’s ever read.
3. I think that “Don’t Tase Me, Bro!” is going to make one hell of a T-shirt.
4. This is just is one more example of what happens when people start to believe that the Constitution only applies when it agrees with them. I shouldn’t even have to say it, but it bears repeating that when a society gets to pick and choose where the right to free speech applies, it ceases to be a right. You dipshits.

Do yourself a favor and search the news headlines for Tasering(tm) incidents across the country. You’ll find, among other things, headlines about an autistic kid being Tasered in Orange County (California’s own little Florida) and some guy being Tasered for trying to run from police. I’m not saying it’s never justified to use these things, but if two or three cops can’t physically subdue a guy (or an autistic kid) enough to get handcuffs on him without electrocuting the shit out of them, then perhaps our nation’s police departments need to stress physical fitness a little more with their patrol officers. More than anything, it seems as if the officers in Florida–all 6 of them–wanted to teach Meyer a little lesson about free speech in Florida, and were rewarded with a paid vacation.

Speaking of the erosion of basic civil liberties, don’t forget how much your congressional representatives hate Habeas Corpus.

God damn, it’s great to be done with baseball, isn’t it? I feel as though a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders, not to return until pitchers and catchers report in 2008. Giants fans have endured yet another miserable season with few bright spots and lots of familiar dark ones. Count on management to bring Barry back again and to make a lot of noise about how the team is going to get younger. Again.

In the meantime, I’ll be waiting for this team to give me a reason not to start going to A’s games next year. As I’ve said many, many times, great fans will stick with a team through losing seasons, terrible personnel decisions, and scandals, but Peter Magowan and friends continue to demonstrate time and time again that they’re interested less in building a winning franchise from the ground up than they are in running a retirement prep-school for light-hitting, old-timey players and squeezing every last dollar out of the dwindling tenure of MLB’s biggest pariah. There’s only so much more that I can take, and I wonder how the Giants will be able to build any substantial payroll once Bonds finally hangs it up. Do they think people will show up to see Pedro Feliz every night? Barry Zito’s a handsome guy, but he only plays every fifth day. At any rate, management should get a good preview of what the stadium will look like for the next few years over the next week, as Bonds is on the shelf with a toe injury for the rest of the Giants’ home games.

Folks around here are tossing around the idea of bringing A-Rod to San Francisco next season, coming off possibly his best offensive season, for a price approaching $30 million a year. If that ever becomes more than a pipe dream, I won’t sit here and say he wouldn’t look good in a Gigantes uniform, but anyone who thinks that move will all of a suddenly make them a contender wasn’t watching this season, and could use an explanation of what it means to provide protection to your best hitter. Bonds hasn’t had anyone protecting him in this lineup since Porn ‘Stache left, and the results definitely speak for themselves. I hate to keep asking this, but really, why the fuck didn’t we try to sign Vladimir Guerrero?

And so the football season is underway, and so the 49ers are the most unconvincing 2-0 since forever, but at least they’re 2-0. (against division foes, no less.) As a fan, I want to believe that something is going to happen to transform the high-school offense I’ve seen the last two weeks into a productive, professional-looking unit going into Pittsburg. As an angry foe of limp inefficiency, I was in physical pain on Sunday watching the 49ers call a simple tailback dive on downs like 2nd and 19 and (with the game on the line!) 3rd and 9. Alex Smith once again looked like a rookie, and while I feel as if part of the responsibility rests with Jim Hostler (the Offensive Coordinator) and his incredible fear of the vertical yard, it is not an encouraging sign when your team’s former Quarterback of the Future looks like he’s going to shit his pants every time he takes a 3-step drop. He showed flashes of great poise near the end of the season last year, but the Faithful won’t wait much longer for him to get his shit together this year.

Mike Nolan, newly anointed savior that he may be, made at least one severely questionable call, taking his last timeout as the Rams scrambled to take the field to attempt a game-winning field goal. He defended his decision, as you would want your coach to, but it’s hard to see how anyone thinks it wasn’t a blunder. Had St. Louis made the field goal, the 49ers anemic offense would have been hard-pressed to win the game, period, much less without any timeouts left.

That said, Nolan is still young as a coach, and this young team and its upstart defense somehow finds itself perched alone atop the NFC West. I love that part, but the next few games on the schedule will reveal a great deal about the makeup of this team. I don’t care how good the defense looks, they can’t continue to stop anyone if they’re on the field for the whole game, and going into Pittsburg with the offense looking the way that it does, it’s hard to imagine the 49ers eking out another victory next Sunday. I mean, maybe Alex Smith will get his groove back, and maybe Jim Hostler will draw up a plan that includes a few first downs here and there, but right now I’m just hoping the team starts to look competent.

On the other hand, like the Giants the 49ers suffer from a recent tradition of mismanagement, compounded by the treatment of a generation of loyal fans that seems genuinely spiteful. I’ve only been to one home game so far this year, but my general feeling after witnessing what has become of the Candlestick Experience is that the Yorks have abandoned the attempt at even appearing friendly to San Franciscans. Judging by the general price and quality of the concessions, the state of the bathrooms, the lack of any onions anywhere to put on my hot dog, and the shortage of stadium personnel on hand to deal with anything at all seemed a big fat “Go Fuck Yourself” straight from ownership right on down to any fan who cares to pay for season tickets. It’s a good thing the team actually won the game.

I won’t lie: needling Mr. Glaser is extremely satisfying. There’s something about popping balloons filled up with so much assurance that makes a satisfying sound. So it was with Mr. Barry Bonds and Glaser’s obsession with him. Since I first met him, I was reminded, twice a week in the off season, every game day when the Boys of Summer plied their trade, that Barry Bonds was the Greatest Human of All Time, second only perhaps to Jerry Rice or Joe Montana, and don’t forget San Francisco is the Greatest City in the World. I’m all for hometown pride and regionalism, but there’s only so much of this type of thing you can take before you look for some excuse, any excuse, to take a little wind out of the sails of a friend.

When the BalCo scandal broke, it was a perfect opportunity. I might as well be honest: I’m sure it was partial jealousy. As a New England sports fan, we have been long suffering, save these last few years of championship renaissance. It felt good to see San Francisco Super Fan Number One taken down peg. The chants, the asterix, the booing: it all felt pretty darn good.

So I can’t say we don’t deserve it.

The bitter cocktail of Harrison’s suspension and Videotapegate is gonna taste pretty gross come this Sunday morning, and that’s with the Bloody Mary washing it down. Fan loyalty is a funny thing, but gimmie a break: I’m not the type of guy to defend what is essentially a giant entertainment franchise who happens to be located 40 miles outside of Boston. The mulling a few years ago of the Patriots moving to St. Louis (before they got the other LA team) shows that, as far as the NFL is concerned, the money in St. Louis is just as green as the money in Boston. But, yeah, I’m pissed off at the Patriots for giving fodder to the idiot at the bar who will no doubt heckle me now. Thanks, Belichek: you’ve made my life a little harder.

I refuse to make excuses for cheating. But let’s be honest, they’re just the latest team to get caught. LT comments aside, as the Times reports, stealing signals is as old as George Halas. To think that the Patriots committed some kind of unconscinable sin that the rest of the league is agog at the level of depravity of is absurd. At this point, the money is so high and so many jobs are at stake, it’s not surprising that in professional sports, cheating and lying is deregure.

But here’s the Zong of the Week: did Belichek’s press conference remind you of something? Because it sure did for me.

Hypocrisy in any form stinks like the Powell St. station. What the Patriots organization did is a disgrace: as one of the few people left on the planet who believes in honor and playing by the rules, it’s a heavy tarnish on a team that up until this point, you could feel proud supporting. As an organization, it filled a gaping hole left by other institutions that supposedly hang their hat on a set of principles. Like, say politics in this country. Abu Ghirab, Gitmo, CIA black sites, preventive detention, gerrymandering…and maybe taping the other coaches calls: are they all part of the same phenomenon?

As The Decider’s time in the playpen winds down, the wonks have begun postulating of his legacy, and what will be said in the history books. Besides a few dead-ender Neocons vainly flapping their chicken wings and saying “Just you wait!”, most agree that this is one of most mismanaged, intellectually bankrupt, corrupt presidencies ever, whose lasting contribution to the American political landscape is the Roveian tactics of smearing, lying, cheating, vote tampering, and shoving aside dissent. It’s always bugged me that from now on, when 5 graders open up their textbooks, the smilin’ Decider will be there on the same double page spread as Lincoln and FDR. I’m hoping there’s an asterix beside his name, because he doesn’t represent what makes me proud to be an American.

I have been, and will always be, a severe humanist. Vonnegut is my Siddhartha. But there are times when I think that those religious folks on TV have a point. Where has our center gone? Are we so deficit of any type of mores now that anything you can do to win is allowed? Tell me that’s not really where we are now. Please.

I hope the Patriots win 10 more Superbowls while I’m alive. But somehow, those rings won’t sparkle as brightly for me anymore.

This past weekend, I lived the San Francisco sports fan’s dream, as I attended a Giants-Dodgers game on Friday night (thanks Joe!) and then went to the Niners’ season opener on Monday evening. Never have I been able to contrast the fan experience, and the irony of said experience, so closely. Let me take an ungodly amount of space to tell you what I mean.

Sitting a scant 6 rows from the third base line on Friday, on a gorgeous late-summer evening, I couldn’t imagine wanting much more as a Giants fan, other than maybe having a team good enough to have a winning season. Still, I grew up watching this team when the “playoffs” meant trying to knock the Dodgers’ blue asses right out of the postseason, so I was riled up and ready to go, just like in the old days. You have to just try and enjoy the games, you see.

I learned quickly, however, that if you’re going to sit in the nice seats at a Gigantes game, you’d better enjoy the game quietly, and without standing up. Ever.

Joe Alterio, who was born and raised in Boston, actually brought me to the game, and was attending his first Giants game at the House that Bonds Built. (”Wow, this stadium is beautiful.”) I was hoping that, in spite of several other similar situations, Giants fans would be loud and rowdy and excited for baseball, like Red Sox fans have been since before it was cool. Instead, I was completely embarrassed to be a Giants fan by the third inning. When Jonathan Sanchez, who pitched very well, had two strikes on a guy with two outs, I stood up and began cheering while literally every fucking “fan” within 100 feet of me sat on their hands, quietly and politely, so as not to disturb the players, I guess. Everyone sitting in season-ticketville was as quiet as a whore in church, except for the elderly 45-year old sitting behind me, wearing a Giants hat.

“Could you SIT DOWN please? We’re trying to enjoy the game!”

That was when I looked around and saw what I didn’t really want to see: This new, special breed of Giants-game attendees, ever since the team moved out of Candlestick, are a disgrace to the team and to the city. I realize that the best seats in the park are expensive, and that rich people don’t like to yell about anything unless it involves the credit bubble, but I swear to you these fucking assholes were sitting less than 20 feet from the playing field, and couldn’t even bring themselves to clap for a strikeout. I’m convinced that, far from being unable to appreciate the beauty and excitement of the game itself, these people weren’t even sure what was going on most of the time.

And so it went, for the entire game, until the Giants won on a walk-off home run. (To scattered applause in my section) I asked some of the fans more than once why they didn’t just save their money and watch the game at home. Their ostrich-skin couches are probably far more comfortable than the seats at AT&T. As I got louder and more incensed by the insouciance of these “Be Seen Somewhere!” meatsacks, I was told on more than one occasion that I should “sit in the bleachers next time” or “start wearing a Dodger hat.” Maybe I will. Dodger Fan may come late and leave early, but at least it’s OK to yell a little bit at their FUCKING BASEBALL STADIUM.

Sorry for yelling. The bleacher comment really got me, though. I guess you pay more money for the right to sit down and read a good book at Giants games now.

I was redeemed on Monday for a time, however. Monday Night Football is exciting, no doubt, but The 49er Faithful were a fucking mob of goddamned maniacs at that football game. No matter how many times the ownership proves that they hate their fans, no matter how shitty the parking/restrooms/food/seats at Candlestick are, my brethren in red and gold showed the fuck up and made that stadium loud enough that I couldn’t hear an effing thing for the whole first half. I swear that I sat in the wrong section (I’ve been sitting in these seats since I was old enough to walk) at first because everyone was STANDING UP and I couldn’t see the section numbers.

Now, it’s true that there are a lot of douchebags at Niner games, and I’m sure that a lot of people don’t have fun at the games because they get into fights with the douchebags, but for the most part, in my section, everyone was having a fantastic fucking time, and we screamed our bloody heads off, and nobody even once told me to keep it down. Sure, things got kinda quiet when the Niners started to look like they did two years ago, but the end of the game was very exciting, and I’m telling you I probably have hearing damage from the volume after that game-winning drive.

So what’s the difference between the rowdy 49er Faithful and the anemic pussies digging into lobster bisque at Giants games? It’s not the ticket price–our tickets to AT&T were the best I’ve ever sat in, and the face value was $33 as compared to the cheapest seats at Candlestick for a Niner game, which stand at about fifty bucks. It’s not the teams’ measure of success–The 49ers packed the stadium full of screaming fans, and they haven’t even had a winning record since 2002. It’s surely not the stadium or the accommodations, as I couldn’t even get onions on my polish sausage when I ordered it, anywhere. Candlestick, though I do love it so, is a fucking disaster area, obviously at the behest of the Yorks.

I contend that the problem starts with seat licenses, an idea that sounds great on paper: Get the fans of the team to chip in a little extra so they can have great seats in the new stadium. Surely, the Giants built one of the most amazing professional sports venues in the world right on the waterfront with mostly private money, and I applaud them for such a grand design, but part of the plan included selling exorbitantly expensive “Charter Seats” to willing parties with deep fucking pockets. The result has been nothing less than a corporate buyout of the best seats in the park, ensuring that most of the fans with the best view of the game are only there because their company pays for the tickets, and lord knows you’ll have a tough time keeping clients if you can’t take them to a Giants-Nationals game on a Wednesday afternoon.

In addition, the charter licenses have become the property of more and more people who treat them like real-estate, and who buy and sell the licenses and seats like lofts in SOMA. A quick look on Craigslist for charter licenses reveals a little insight into why your typical orange-blooded Giants fan can’t really afford to go to many games, much less sit near the field.

What will become of the 49er Faithful if the Yorks get their wish and the team moves to Santa Clara? Surely, there are seat licenses involved, and we know how that worked out for the Oakland Raiders. On Monday, the frothy fervor of my fellow fans made me happy and excited, and made the game as enjoyable as any I’ve seen despite all the offensive futility. I do not look forward to the day when I drive to Santa Clara to use the $190 ticket I bought from a season-ticket holder trying to recoup some of the money he spent on his seat license, to watch my favorite football team play against the Cardinals, only to be told to sit down and be quiet by the guy behind me wearing a tie.

One of the saddest eventualities of the infamous day that we mark on this Tuesday actually manifested itself for me personally a little over a week ago, as I attended a party where a great deal of beer and other recreational substances were consumed. At some point late in the evening/early in the morning, I found myself to be an antisocialite, choosing not to fraternize with the surging crowd but instead to sit in one of the bedrooms and wax socio-political with two of my closest and most unapologetically intellectual friends, Joe Alterio and Molly Soudant. It should not shock you to learn that this is not the first time we’ve done this, and while many of the subjects we’ve discussed over the years have been weighty, I suppose they were mostly light enough to feel satisfying in the back room at a party. How many of the world’s problems did we solve only to lose our salvation to the abyss of drunken disremembrance?

And so I think it’s maybe a sad thing that, all things considered, September 11th has become a back-room party conversation subject. I can say that the subject itself was and usually is given appropriate respect whenever myself or any of my friends commit to discussing it, and fair insight was given into the symptoms that beguile our generation and our democracy. I’m truly lucky to have so many intelligent, thoughtful friends to converse with in such lofty language with such reverence for the Great Idea, whatever it happens to be this week.

Anyhow, that night we spoke about what has happened to this generation since it was handed its big, terrible test 6 years ago, and for a short while I felt pride in the audacity of our anger. We remembered the towers falling and saying, almost in unison, that everything was going to be different from then on, that this terrible event would galvanize our generation into a vehicle for change. After remembering these things, I said without any intended hyperbole that I have never been so wrong about anything before in my entire life.

It occurs to me that perhaps this is America’s definition of Victory; being able to carry on without changing anything at all means the terrorists can go get fucked. It would be an admirable trait if it wasn’t simply the lazy, brain-dead masses of my generation masquerading as martyrs.

Every year at this time, probably for the rest of my life, this day will be full of ceremony and empty rhetoric. It’s a somber occasion perfect for selling advertising on the major media outlets, and at the end of the day we can turn on Seinfeld reruns and feel like we’re doing just fine as long as we “Never Forget.” Never mind that the man who is responsible for the attacks is alive and well and still making commercials for Al Qaeda, and that we re-elected a president who fucked up his capture in Tora Bora and then invaded the wrong country. As long as we Never Fucking Forget what happened, then I guess it really doesn’t matter what we do.

And who am I to stand and accuse my generation of inaction? After 9-11, I didn’t enlist in the Armed Forces or become a fireman or run for office. I donated some blood and then made a habit of getting drunk and yelling a lot about the Patriot Act at strangers in bars. Now I write a blog, and I appreciate your readership, but these days, blogs are definitely like assholes. I mean, as much as I want to blame all the poor, ignorant morons who voted for Bush once or twice, I certainly can’t shift the blame off of my own shoulders; whatever it is I tried to do as a member of a generation of strong, young adults when the World Trade Center collapsed simply wasn’t enough, and the direction in which this country has turned or failed to turn is the responsibility of its people. They are a people who don’t like to vote, love tax cuts, and are too fucking lazy to change anything if it means reading more than a few sentences or thinking more than a few months into the future.

And so we mark 9-11 as we always will: with a body count, some speeches about how the world was somehow changed on that day, and a solemn promise that we will not forget the innocent people who died. Intellectuals will bark at one another and write nasty blogs about all the closeted gay republicans, and will presumably go to parties where they’ll discuss the horror of it all while having drinks. At the same time, America will watch whatever is on television, living in enough fear to be controlled, but not fearful enough to change the channel.

I know it’s been awhile, and I apologize to all three of you for my absence, but I’ve been busy trying to figure out where the fuck I’m going to get my next paycheck. Also, I’m upgrading The Zong from the ground up. Look for some changes next week.

In case you don’t watch CNN, CBS, NBC, ABC, Fox, UPN, or Entertainment Tonight, here’s a clip that has been blowing up on all those networks and on the internets:

The first time I saw this was on CNN, A network devoted to bringing us all the hurricanes and celebrity gaffes that are fit to print. Or air. The two ladies who were reporting on this incredibly important story had a really good laugh and laid a couple of zingers on the girl, one 18-year old Lauren Caitlin Upton, presumably while people were still dying in Iraq, the economy is faltering, and Michael Vick was discovering Jesus.

I wanted to laugh, I really did. It’s true that this clip is a motherfucking train wreck, and the clip has gone viral in the grandest way possible: it’s been shown on literally every major NEWS network available to the masses. Still, instead of laughing, I got a real bee in my bonnet about the whole thing, and the more news pundits I hear discussing this kid’s inability to speak while on national television, the more it strikes me as fucking heinous that anyone having anything to do with the media nowadays has the stones to make any commentary on how stupid our kids sound.

Put aside the fact that Lauren is barely an adult and it’s pretty obvious that most people love to see an attractive young person appear stupid because they’re jealous that they’re unattractive and useless. Also put aside the fact that the national response to her rambling, tortuous answer is pretty mean-spirited. Let’s just wait one goddamned minute here: have you watched even a single hour of CNN lately? If you haven’t, then maybe you should check it out and tell me why you think it is that our 18-year-old beauty queens turn into brain stems with nice tits when they’re asked about the state of the country and the world. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that most of the news items they and the other media outlets like them spend more time covering the parade of celebrity and entertainment bullshit than they do stories of actual import.

That these television stations have jumped on the bandwagon and continue, even in the last few days, to ridicule this girl for her failure to grasp the simplest concepts when they themselves make everyone who watches them stupider goes far beyond being regrettable–it verges on disgusting. It seems to me that it’s just one more piece of the puzzle depicting our crumbling civilization; rather than actually taking action to make ourselves and our citizens better, we kick back and laugh at some kid who can barely talk on television so that it makes our own failures seem less important. Is it any wonder that we elected a president who speaks about as well as she does?