THE DEATH OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION, CHAPTER 47

While most of the world was watching the Winter Olympics last night, low-rise apartment buildings and RVs everywhere were awash with the comforting glow of another televised sporting event -- the Glutton Bowl, featuring such astounding feats of athleticism as consuming bowls of mayonnaise and whole sticks of butter.

Ah, Fox. Ever since they stopped airing World’s Wackiest Police Chases and Civil Rights Violations on a weekly basis, I was starting to wonder if they had gone soft. I mean, it’s been at least a full calendar year since we’ve been treated to a prime-time animal mauling. But apparently the subtle shift is part of a broadcast strategy that involves devoting TV shows to each of the seven deadly sins. We’ve had lust (Temptation Island), greed (Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionare), sloth (well... just about anything in Fox’s prime-time lineup), and now gluttony. What’s next -- Who Wants to Covet Thy Neighbor’s Mule?

To paraphrase our Right-Thinking president, no wonder I think they’re evil.

But that’s not the scary part -- Fox, after all, will be Fox, and I love them for it. The scary part is that this eating contest is actually sanctioned, by an organization called the International Federation of Competitive Eating, which we can safely assume is kind of like the IOC, only with less biased judges.

Not that figure skating is much more uptown in the grand scheme of things -- remember Right-Thinking athlete and all-around sophisticate Tonya Harding? (Perhaps you’ve seen her mentioned in the New Yorker’s Talk of the Town.) Luckily, NBC opted to wait to air skating until after the Glutton Bowl chugged to its sickening denouement, undoubtedly sparing countless fights over the remote control in trailer parks across the greater Southeast.

FUN WITH FOOD

Living with a three-year-old has its moments. Here's the dinnertime conversation the other night:

"Aimee, try some meat."
"I don't like meat!"
"Aimee, try some vegetables."
"I don't like vegetables!"
"Aimee, try some food."
"I don't like food!"
"Aimee, try some cookies."
A pause. Then, hopefully,
"I like cookies!"
"Just checking to see if you were listening."
"I'm listening."

This followed a trip to the grocery store a week or so back where every item I tossed into the cart was greeted with a "I don't like [insert name of food item here]!" You can almost imagine the running commentary:

"I don't like bananas!"
"I don't like chicken!"
"I don't like Richfood Value Select Bargain Corn Niblets(tm)!"
"I don't like Richfood Value Select Bargain 10-Gallon Trash Bags!(tm)"

And this is also all by way of explaining why we decided to go out to dinner by ourselves for Valentine's Day.

VEERING TO THE RIGHT?

Here's another reason to be on a state of heightened alert. Apparently not even the staple of right-thinking American publishing, Reader's Digest, is free from subversive thinking.

According to an article in the Washington Post, the fun-loving folk at the National Review are blasting the magazine's current editorial team, claiming it lacks the proper conservative credentials. By the way of evidence, they point to a story about an all-girl rescue squad in Alaska as proof of 'low-grade feminism' creeping its way into the magazine.

They also sneak in some silliness about the red state vs. blue state dynamic (based on the states that voted for Bush vs. Gore, respectively), claiming that Reader's Digest, by some massive oversight, somehow let some people from the dreaded blue states start working for them. Personally, I'm more scared about the fact that I live in a red state -- does that mean I have to go to work for the National Review?

But let's ponder the sacrosanct Reader's Digest -- is nothing sacred, not even Life in these United States? Will It Pays to Enrich Your Word Power start including words like 'Naderesque' and 'Clintonian?'"

(UPDATE: This blog goes wide -- well, sort of. I submitted this little rant as an item for Plastic.)

FLY THE PHONY SKIES

We're all incredibly proud, and a little bit sad, because my sister-in-law just left for a two-year Peace Corps stint in, of all places, Tonga. To my credit, when she first told us she was assigned there a month or so back, I actually had a vague idea of where Tonga was (the South Pacific, if you're playing along at home). Of course, since my first question to her was "Wow. Do they have cable?" maybe my understanding of global cultures isn't all that it should be.

But I digress. Thanks to this wonderful pre-goatee Al Gore invention called the Internet, I can learn all about Tonga. Though I wonder -- if a country has access to the Internet and top-flight Web design, do they really need volunteer assistance?

Oh, wait. I see now -- they desperately need help with Photoshop. I'll be on the 4:45 Royal Tongan Airlines "Concorde." Hey, it may not be real, but it couldn't be any worse than Air Dukakis, after all...