Jewish World Review Oct. 8, 2001 / 21 Tishrei, 5762
Fine with me, Infinite Justice sounds like the O.J. Simpson trial. Just goes on and on, like the Energizer Bunny, only with lawyers. Justice SHOULD grind to a halt at some point. All trial, no verdict sounds like a attorney's dream, but as for the rest of us cannon fodder, I dunno.
And the new name, Enduring Freedom? Can't say I think much of that either. It's ambiguous. Does it mean freedom endures, that is, abides, that is approaches infinity in its own special way, or does it mean freedom is something to be endured, like an uncle who drinks too much at a party and gets a little obnoxious, but you can't say anything, because you don't want to be cut out of his will?
I have the same problem with the word "tolerance." We're supposed to be tolerant of other lifestyles. Does that mean, understanding, compassionate, caring-- or does it mean toleratant, the way you tolerate a five year old banging on your head with a Jar Jar action figure, because you're trying to flirt with the five year old's very attractive single Mom?
Speaking of tolerance, can we go back to being ironic yet? I've been left out in the cold here. I feel like Bill Maher at a cruise missile convention. If they even have conventions. What do I know? I'm ironic. I'm hopeless.
I was ironic during the Viet Nam War, in the eighties, during the Gulf War, before it was fashionable to be ironic, and I will be ironic beyond the grave, a sarcastic ghost appearing to those I am haunting just so I can say, "What are YOU lookin' at?"
Without irony, I'd be just another cranky middle-aged guy who drinks too much coffee. Shouldn't my precious way of life be preserved? Or at least tolerated.
Without irony, how can I even consider the daily exhortations by the media to come on, get out there and shop, show these terrorists we're not afraid. Get on a plane, America, it's your patriotic duty!
The thing is, like many Americans, I'm still stumbling around in shock, kind of depressed, out of work, facing bankruptcy, watching dotcoms drop like flies even as I'm e-mailing my resume to them.
Right now, I just don't feel like window shopping at the mall, all right?
And I have nothing against getting on a plane, but where would I go? Without
disposable income, what would I do when I got there? My name is Ian Shoales.
And I am ironic. Won't you please
10/01/01: Confessions of a sarcastic scribe