Because You Never Asked

    

(2/06)

     One of the more magnetic personalities in the world these days is the undeniably best golfer in the world, Tiger Woods (for more, see essay “Tiger Robinson”). It is not often that an athlete of such extraordinary talent is coupled with a positive kind of charisma that translates into a bullet proof marketing infallibility. Talent, sex appeal, style, a droolable Swedish wife … Tiger is the whole package and more. With the help of his own good instincts and intelligence, he has been sold and packaged with a shrewdness bordering on perfection. Not being one to believe in anyone’s image, I would take a certain degree of comfort if he were found one night in a cheap motel with a bag of blow and a crack whore.

     That would truly be the end of the empire.

     In any event, late one Sunday afternoon, I was potatoed up on the couch doing the zapper thing, when I caught a glimpse of Tiger strolling down a fairway. The beautiful off red color of his perfectly fitting shirt seemed Byronesque against the manicured emerald background of the golf course. I put the zapper down and decided to stay for awhile. I am not a golfer. This is a perfect example of Tiger Power at work.

     So there he was, His Majesty, in all the glory of his mature vigor, fending off a host of dragons on his way to a playoff victory (was there ever a doubt?). When the banal  creature opposing him sealed his doom with the decisive miss, I adjourned to the shower to purge my body of the day’s accumulated inclemency. In a wasteful display of American irresponsibility, I left the TV on as I succumbed to the hygienic call.

     When I returned, one of America’s great television traditions, “60 Minutes”, was trying to make some money for CBS. I’ve already devoted some unflattering remarks to this program (see essay, “Animal Rights and 60 Minutes”), but my Sunday evening inertia was such that I plopped myself down and robotically began to watch.

     The segment in question had to do with a bio-tech company from California that had perfected a drug or serum that would combat radiation sickness. This could be very useful if one of our nation’s seemingly infinite amount of enemies ever managed the dirty deed of a nuclear incursion.

     It didn’t take long for my mind to begin drifting away from all this. Fear has become the currency of American governance. Try as they might, I am still not afraid, maybe because a nuclear attack would be our just desserts for the lunacy rampant in our cultural dementia; for the dirty games we play. “You reap what you sow.” Shouldn’t all the religious fanatics on every side of every conflict know this? It’s really not that complicated.

     And then … an executive of the radiation serum company said something that blew me away (ha, ha).

     “ … and we began to realize that if there were a nuclear attack on one of our major cities, there would be a tremendous market for our product.”

     I immediately burst out laughing. It was as if I were watching a satirical version of the news --- you know, Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert --- and the comedian had hit on a great line. But this was “60 Minutes”, America’s one hour of sobriety, of straight talking, no nonsense journalism meant to educate and prepare us to be the informed citizens a healthy democracy demands, badda boom, yadda, yadda.

     The first image that came to my mind was from the comic strip “Yosemite Sam”. One of its habitual characters, the undertaker, uses the business slogan, “you plug’em, we plant’em”. I laughed again at my own geniality and returned my attention to the TV. I fully expected the Rolex-wristed businessman to be a bit embarrassed or contrite for such an insensitive remark. “Well … you know, I don’t mean it like that … if such an unfortunate thing ever …” (Cue Steve Martin) But noooo! He just went on with his blather as if nothing could be more normal, as if he were talking about a possible windfall market for widgets or dry wall.

     I then expected the CBS commentator to step in and be contrite for him. “You mean … and let’s hope we never have to face such a …” But noooo! We are talking about the market here, no joke, what could be more serious?

     Adding to the tragic-comic aspects of all this is the fact that you don’t have to be a nuclear-bio-serum-salesman to understand … Eureka! … that a nuclear attack will create a market not only for your product, but a virtual plethora of products. How about morgues, or ambulances, or firefighting equipment, or waste removal, or bandages, crutches and wheel chairs, or Geiger counters, or, or … my God, one good nuclear attack could probably save the economy. I think Detroit would be perfect. What the hoo have they done in Detroit lately to help the economy? Let’s wipe’em clean and encourage economic growth with the nuclear clean up sector, an industry we still lead the world in.

     I began to roll some board room scenarios around in my mind: An aide bursts into the room and happily proclaims, “Great news! Osama just went on TV again. He’s threatened to wipe out the whole east coast with a dirty bomb”. Joy, jubilation, the company’s stock triples in one day (and guess what? Dick Cheney owns a ton of it).

     Or how about: An aide bursts into the room, a look of distress on his face. “The Israelis and Palestinians have just made peace! Hamas and Hezbollah vow to fight terrorism. We’re ruined!” (Cheney sold his stock the day before)

     But seriously folks, the incident that spawned this essay can now be seen as a  microcosm for America’s whole economic scheme. This country has invested more heavily in enemies than in any other thing. Enemies have become the foundation of our economy’s well being. Enemies provide employment. Enemies provide profits. If you don’t get it by now, just ask Halliburton (Cheney’s brother-in-law holds chunks of stock.)
    
     Enemies provide us with an identity. What would America be without enemies?