Category: Letter From The Editor

I continue to be amused and amazed at readers’ responses to the Flyer‘s redesign. It’s almost like the fable of the blind men and the elephant, as famously recounted in a poem by John Godfrey Saxe that began thusly: Six men of Indostan went to see an elephant/(Though all of them were blind.)/That each by observation/Might satisfy his mind.

The first man felt the elephant’s side and thought the elephant must be “very like a wall.” The second man, who felt the elephant’s tusk, thought the elephant was “very like a spear.” And so forth. The point being, I suppose, that we each see things from our own perspective and are often blind to things that seem obvious to others.

Those of you who’ve written or left voice-mails about the “new” Flyer have been similarly divided in your opinions. Some of you apparently think we are “very like idiots” for messing with your “good old Flyer.” And yes, we’ve even been accused of the quintessential colloquialism: “fixing what ain’t broken.” Others of you have expressed delight and admiration at our good taste and splendid judgment. (You folks are “very, like, cool.”)

One rumor that apparently spread through the art community like fertilized kudzu was that due to the redesign we had reduced our coverage of the visual arts. I received numerous letters about this “decision” from gallery owners and painters. Let me shine a light on that part of the elephant. Such a thing was never even considered. We love artists and art and we’ll continue to cover the Memphis art community as we always have — maybe even a little better than we always have.

And that’s not elephant doo.

Bruce VanWyngarden, Editor

brucev@MemphisFlyer.com

What a difference a week makes. Last Tuesday, here at the Flyer we were all chattering about the paper’s makeover and the U of M’s chances against Ole Miss. This week, we’re forced to contemplate the forthcoming makeover of a million lives and the Gulf Coast’s chances for recovery from a horrific disaster, the magnitude of which is still unfolding.

The Commercial Appeal, various Web sites, and the network news outlets have done a good job covering the story of Hurricane Katrina and providing information about ways we can all help out. We urge you to do what you can to assist in welcoming the thousands of new Memphians who have arrived in recent days. Memphis is, after all, known as the City of Good Abode. Now, more than ever, we need to live up to that reputation.

And we should take a moment to pause and be thankful for so much that we all take for granted: a job, a home, a family — alive and in one place. Tough days lie ahead for those who have to rebuild their lives from scratch. Lend a hand. Be a Good Samaritan. If you see a car with Louisiana plates, there’s a good chance the occupants are hurting. Maybe you can help.

That said, I need to mention a change in the Flyer‘s fall schedule (more fallout from Katrina, however trivial it may seem at this point): Our annual “Best of Memphis” issue — and the accompanying party — has been moved from the September 29th issue to a date (yet to be decided) in October.

In another housekeeping note, News of the Weird is absent this week, chased out of the paper for space considerations by our Katrina stories. It will return, weird as ever, next week.

See you at the gas pump.

Bruce VanWyngarden, Editor

brucev@MemphisFlyer.com

I was standing near the bar at the company Christmas party (Quel surprise!), when a co-worker sidled up and wished me Merry Christmas. Then he smirked and said, “Or should I say Happy Holidays?” We both shook our heads, marveling at the absurdity of such a thing becoming controversial. The fact is, it just doesn’t matter, no matter what Bill O’Reilly might tell you. If someone wishes you Happiness or Merriness, it’s a good thing. Just smile and say thanks. And shut up about it.

That specious non-issue was the last (I hope) of many specious non-issues foisted upon us in 2004. To name just a few others: the flap over John Kerry’s medals; Trent Lott’s so-called racist comments; the Scott Peterson trial; Howard Dean’s scream; Janet Jackson’s nipple; anything to do with The Apprentice; Paris Hilton’s sex tape; The Passion of the Christ; Martha Stewart’s trial; Howard Stern… . The list goes on and on, but I won’t. Well, maybe I will.

Mostly, this stuff just got in the way, providing distraction from other more serious matters. But maybe that was the point. Whether or not Kerry was a “flip-flopper” trumped the issue of the missing WMD. Coverage of Dean’s now-infamous scream obliterated the courage he showed in initially calling the president’s bluff on Iraq. The flap over Jackson’s breast obscured the question of why the FCC has a censorship policy in the first place. Gay marriage became the pivotal election issue for many Christians, who didn’t seem at all troubled by the wholesale breaking of the Sixth Commandment, Thou Shalt Not Kill (which also presumably covers Thou Shalt Not Torture), in the name of patriotism.

How many times did “news” about the absurdly overcovered Peterson trial supplant the very real horrors of war being endured by our servicemen and women and by innocent civilians in Iraq? Too many to count. And how did “Supporting the troops” come to mean “Don’t criticize the Bush administration”? It’s beyond me.

Let’s do better in 2005. Let’s say goodbye to a year which brought us the image of “a man running around with his hair on fire” and a young American woman holding a cigarette and laughing at a naked prisoner. Let’s bid adieu to concerns about Bill O’Reilly’s “falafel”problem, John Kerry’s wind-surfing troubles, and the Olsen twins. Let’s say farewell to a year when Superman and the Gipper died and Rodney Dangerfield finally got some respect.

And let’s hope that in 2005 Sean Hannity learns some humility (a stint serving in Iraq in that war he so loves might do it) and that Alan Colmes retires and is replaced by a progressive thinker with at least two cojones, preferably large ones. (Jon Stewart comes to mind. I’d pay to watch that show.)

And let us fervently pray that we never hear these names or phrases again: Omarosa, Jayson Blair, girly-men, death tax, William Hung, the richest 1 percent of Americans, Ron Artest, steroids, Hurricane Ivan, Britney, Ashley, Lindsay, or any other dimwit teenstar-of-the-moment. And, oh yeah, Madonna and every other celebrity who has decided they should write children’s books: Just stop it. Now.

Enough about “oil for food.” Ditto Bernard Kerik, you sleazebag. Speaking of sleazebags: Adios, R. Kelly.

Goodbye, Tom Ridge. Thanks for the color chart. Nice work. And see ya, John Ashcroft. Don’t let the door smack your tight white ass on the way out. (We’re uncovering that statue now.)

Whew. This is hard work. It’s hard. Did I say it was hard work? Wait, let me finish. I’ve got a plan for that. Go to my Web site. (Needless to say, let’s be eternally thankful there will be no presidential debates this year.)

I think that’s about enough of a walk down memory lane for now. It goes without saying that we here at the Flyer eagerly anticipate the follies to come in 2005 and hope to be around to comment sarcastically upon them this time next year. We wish you all a happy and healthy new year and that you never have to hear another friend say those dreaded words: “Hey, you should check out my blog.”

— Bruce VanWyngarden

In his January State of the Union address, President Bush says that America can’t take the chance that Saddam Hussein is hiding weapons of mass destruction. Saddam, he says, has missed “his final chance” and has recently sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa. War, the president says, is the only way to keep America safe.

In North Korea, dictator Kim Jong Il kicks U.N. weapons inspectors out of his country and announces plans to begin manufacturing weapons-grade plutonium. Diplomacy, the president says, is all that’s necessary to keep America safe.

Meanwhile, in Florida, the Raelian cult announces that they have created a human clone. Though evidence of such was not forthcoming, the Raelians soon prove their ability to clone massive amounts of spam e-mail.

In February, Secretary of State Colin Powell tells the U.N. that there is “irrefutable and undeniable” evidence that Iraq has weapons of mass destruction. In 600 cities around the world, six million people protest the now-inevitable war.

Later that month, 27 million people watch a television film about Michael Jackson.

In March, the U.S. launches its “shock and awe” bombing campaign against Iraq. France, Germany, and Russia refuse to support the U.S. war effort. Congress invents “freedom fries” in retaliation.

Utah teenager Elizabeth Smart is found, thereby launching 1,000 hours of cable programming.

In April, U.S. and British troops invade Baghdad and help topple a 40-foot statue of Saddam. Looting is rampant. “Freedom’s untidy,” says Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld.

Private Jessica Lynch is rescued in a “daring raid,” thereby launching an untidy race to win movie rights to her story.

On May 1st, the president lands on an aircraft carrier in San Diego and declares “major combat operations” have ended in Iraq.

SARS, the disease that sparked a worldwide panic, subsides, having killed 400 people — worldwide. Professional moralist William Bennett confesses that he has lost $8 million in slot machines.

In June, the president signs a $350 billion tax cut and says Americans will have “more of their money to spend.”

Hillary Clinton’s autobiography makes back its $8 million advance in one week. William Bennett could not be reached for comment. Strom Thurmond dies at age 100.

Uday and Qusay Hussein are killed by U.S. troops in July. Saddam releases an audiotape calling for a jihad. The president responds diplomatically by saying, “Bring ’em on.” More than 100 Americans have been killed in combat.

Kobe Bryant is charged with rape, thereby launching 1,000 hours of cable programming. Strom Thurmond’s staff notices he is dead.

In August, Arnold Schwarzenegger anounces his candidacy for governor of California on The Tonight Show, thereby launching the political careers of 200 other nutballs, including Larry Flynt, Gallagher, Gary Coleman, and a porn star with giant breasts. Schwarzenegger is accused of being a “serial groper.” His porn-star opponent says she is a “serial gropee.”

In September, the president requests and receives $87 billion from Congress to pay for the continued occupation of Iraq. Suicide bombs plague the country. The American death toll rises to 200.

In the U.S., Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez release a career-suicide bomb called Gigli. After seeing the film, magician David Blaine locks himself in a plastic box in London for 44 days.

In October, Schwarzenegger “handily” wins the California governorship. Rush Limbaugh checks into a rehab center to shake an addiction to pain-killers. Magician Roy Horn checks into a hospital to shake his addiction to white tigers.

November is the deadliest month of the Iraq war. More than 300 American soldiers have died so far. A memo from Rumsfeld saying the country faces a “long, hard slog” is leaked to the press.

Britain’s Prince Charles denies rumors that he has had his own long, hard slog with a male servant.

The president delivers a fake turkey to selected troops in Iraq in a clandestine, two-hour Thanksgiving visit.

In December, Bush signs a $400 billion drug-benefit law. Stocks rise precipitously, especially pharmaceuticals. Limbaugh applauds a “recovering” economy.

Strom Thurmond’s black daughter announces her existence. Staff turns Thurmond over in his grave.

Saddam Hussein is captured hiding in a hole in the ground. The good news is that he’s able to make his dental appointment.

Top that, 2004.

As the sun climbed into a cloudless blue sky the city went about its business as usual. At the Starbucks on Union the line of commuters waited for their mocha lattes. On the radio George Lapides was offering sports trivia. Joggers were jogging. The birds were singing. Life was good. Memphis was getting ready for another day, and a beautiful one it was.

It was Tuesday, our deadline day, and we were preparing a cover story on Memphis nightlife.

And then we started hearing the news, the horrible, unbelievable news that transfixed the country and that will probably forever change the way we see ourselves and our place in the world.

It began as an unfolding kaleidoscope of images, each more horrific and unbelievable than the last. First, we learned that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers. Was it terrorism or just a terrible accident, we wondered. Then 18 minutes later, another plane struck the other tower and the intentional nature of the attacks became more apparent. Before we could begin to let the enormity of these events sink in, we learned of yet another suicide-plane attack on the Pentagon. Then the towers collapsed, one after another, taking countless more lives; then another plane crashed near Pittsburgh. Rumors flew over the airwaves and around the office as reports came tumbling in from various sources. There were four planes, no, five. More attacks would come. The airports were closing …

What the hell was happening?

The horror grew with each new revelation, with each numbing report of more death and destruction. Then came the queasy fear, the certain knowledge that America was no longer a safe haven, insulated from the messy but distant terrorism that plagues so much of the rest of the world. We seemed suddenly vulnerable, at the mercy of an evil too big to comprehend. Was there more to come?

We called friends and family, no matter where they were, seeking assurance that they were okay, seeking affirmation that they too had seen the news, had shared the nightmare. Our nightlife cover story seemed trivial now, pointless, a remnant of an easier, happier time, a time that suddenly seemed long ago and far away.

The terrorist suicide-plane attacks in New York, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania were a wake-up call for all of us. A “Pearl Harbor” moment for a new generation. Only this time there is no enemy country to invade, no clear way to fight back. The Japanese attack of 1941 was merciless and a surprise, but at least we knew where Tokyo was. This time it will do no good to mobilize our industries or stage a draft. The “enemy” is faceless, anonymous, and uses our own commercial airliners against us. Sophisticated missile defense systems and smart bombs are useless in the face of such actions.

Diplomacy seems equally futile. We are dealing with a foe whose soldiers find their greatest victories in suicide killings of civilians, whose hatred of America justifies any act, no matter how heinous. How we travel, how we live, how we view ourselves and our relations with the rest of the world are irrevocably altered.

As a weekly newspaper, the Flyer cannot offer breaking news in a situation such as this. That job is best left to television and the daily papers. We can, however, offer some perspective on the situation, some analysis of the events and their aftermath. And that’s what we’ve attempted to do this week. The paper is a day later than normal, but events have transpired to make it so.

As I left downtown at day’s end Tuesday, I couldn’t help noticing the utter normalcy everywhere. Carpenters pounded nails on a new house; the trolley clattered by; runners jogged along the the Bluff Walk; the river ran as it always does, reflecting the setting sun. It all seemed the same as ever. But it wasn’t. Not really.

— Bruce VanWyngarden

The Memphis Flyer encourages reader response. Send mail to: Letters to the Editor, POB 1738, Memphis, TN 38101. Or call Back Talk at 575-9405. Or send us e-mail at letters@memphisflyer.com. All responses must include name, address, and daytime phone number. Letters should be no longer than 250 words.