2002-04-24 - 10:05 p.m.
Sometimes my fellow journalists truly embarrass me. Item #1: The FBI receives information that al-Qaeda operatives in the U.S. are planning attacks on malls and supermarkets. The Feds doubt the reliability of said info and can�t confirm it, however, so they decide to downplay it. Item #2: The Associated Press--once again upholding The Public�s Right to Know, Even if What They Know Is Utter Bullshit--spews a story across the wires with the headline, "FBI Warns Agents of Shopping Terror."
Hell, I have "shopping terror" every time I go to Target. What�s the big deal?
On a related subject, has anyone else noticed that the Homeland Security Office�s new magic terrorist-threat color wheel bears a certain resemblance to the Gay Pride flag? Just what is Tom Ridge trying to tell us? And does his name sound like something you might come up with in the "Find Out Your Gay Porn Star Name" game, or what?
I guess right now we�re at "yellow." Not orange, not teal, not mauve--just "yellow." I know I feel a lot safer, hearing that. Don�t you?
If we ever go to red alert, I expect whoop-whoop sound effects like on Star Trek. I�m just saying.
***
So I actually managed to make it to the big Earth Day festival in Balboa Park this past Sunday. My friend Ed and I tried to go last year but got caught in a gridlock of exhaust-belching cars all driven by people with the exact same idea. (See, children, Irony Wasn�t Dead yet back then, so these kinds of petty absurdities could still be observed and remarked upon.)
This year, we walked. Or, Ed walked and I wheeled. Or, Ed walked and I sat in my wheelchair while Ed pushed it. Ed�s a good minion.
Now, I consider myself an environmentalist. I think environmental issues need to be discussed and acted upon--now more than ever, given who currently occupies the White House. The way we�re going, this planet�s going to be uninhabitable in 100 years. But if we�re to avoid that, it will be because we use our brains, our consciences and the scientific method--not wave crystals around, move back into caves, or wear tie-dyed shirts and refuse to shave our armpits until we graduate from college. Events like this draw a lot of freaks, and that�s ok. Freaks make life interesting. I just don�t want them making policy.
I also have to wonder who�s on the committee deciding who can call themselves environmentalists these days. The first thing I saw upon entering the park was this guy with a bullhorn and a big sign saying:
ATTENTION! Religious PHONIES, PERVERTS, HOMOSEXUALS, BLASPHEMERS of the Holy SPIRIT, LIBERALS, ADULTERERS, SODOMITES! RAPERS and DEFILERS of GOD�s CREATION! Etc. READ the BIBLE! Hell is REAL and YOU are going there unless you REPENT!
Maybe I�m naive, but honestly, is there a single person in the entire history of Christendom who was actually led to Jesus via over-the-top scare tactics like this? My parents used to tell me I�d go to Hell if I didn�t eat my vegetables but that just made me try to feed my broccoli to the dog while they weren�t looking.
He also had a booth covered with gruesome oversized pictures of aborted fetuses. What all this had to do with Earth Day is anyone�s guess.
Also--who are the "Etc.," and what did they do to get on this guy's shit list? Whatever it was, it must have been a rager. Can I tag along next time?
Then there were the veganazis. Instead of fetuses, their booth had pictures of slaughtered cows. Besides that, though, and a few other minor differences, they were interchangeable from Mr. Bullhorn--the same fanaticism, the same hectoring tone of voice, the same pummel-your-audience-into-submission argumentative style, the same obvious preference for nonsentient creatures over living, breathing, thinking human beings. They made me want to run straight to the nearest steakhouse and order up a big slab o�beef. Rare. Extra bloody.
Nevertheless, I had a good time. Most of the groups represented were a lot saner than that. And then, after a quick pass through the Holistic Health area--or as Ed called it, the Fraud and Quackery Tent--we wound up at the World Beat Center listening to drum circles and looking at lots of eye candy. Third-world rhythms always bring out the eye candy, I tell you.
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