The madness hits home
BY PHILLIPE & JORGE
We imagine that you've been as riveted as everyone else by the incredible
horror unfolding in the country since the morning of Tuesday, September 11.
Jorge, on his way from Edgewood into the Phoenix/FNX radio office in
Providence that a.m., observed that the sound of blaring televisions and radios
was audible from every small shop and business along the small strip of
businesses near Broad and Wheeler streets. Radios were also being played loudly
in parked vans and work trucks.
Boarding the inbound number one Eddy Street RIPTA bus, Jorge noticed that the
"Out of Service" sign was displayed. There were only three other passengers
when the driver pulled over across from Rhode Island Hospital. We sat for a
moment when a RIPTA coordinator got on the front step of the bus and told the
passengers to get off by using the back door. He then told us to "stand away
from the bus." At this point, Jorge overheard the coordinator telling the
driver in a perturbed voice, "What . . . do I look like some kind of explosives
expert?"
We spoke with Lee Beliveau, RIPTA's marketing and communications director, who
told us what happened. Apparently, near the beginning of the route, a passenger
left a package on the bus. Noticing this, the driver informed the passenger
that he'd forgotten something on the vehicle, but he proceeded off the bus
without the parcel. Out of an abundance of caution, RIPTA stopped the bus, and
police were called to investigate. Subsequently, the discarded package was
found to be harmless.
Although it's ludicrous to think that the Eddy Street bus might be a target
for international terrorists, the reaction underscores the fear and dread that
can be caused by such horrendous acts. Spreading that fear and dread, of
course, is one of the prime objectives of those responsible for this day of
horror. We can only wonder how many other stories similar to this one have been
unfolding across the country in the past few days.
Meow bow-wow
You've certainly seen plenty in these pages about one of the all-time bow-wow
tech moves of the new century, the :CueCat, a dubious computer scanner that
attracted a $37.5 million investment from Belo Corporation, owner of the
Urinal. Careful readers of the BeloJo may have noticed the small disclaimer on
page one last Thursday, September 6, tersely announcing, "Effective today, the
Providence Journal will no longer use scanned cues to send you to our
Web site for further information. Please continue to visit projo.com for
in-depth coverage, breaking news, multi-media experiences, interactive
opportunities and much more."
Yes, the :CueCat is dead, but to get a decent account of how big and stupid
the whole travesty was you had to read Belo's flagship, the Dallas Morning
News, which -- unlike the BeloJo -- offered a full explanation of the
fiasco. The Urinal, with a worsening history of denial and a refusal to print
anything that might cast an embarrassing light on this most arrogant of
institutions, went with the option of almost no meaningful information.
We're not surprised that the Belo corporate types, so hot to glean valuable
consumer demographic information, would fall for such a dumb-ass piece of shit
as the :CueCat. But then again, as one observer put it, Belo executives, all
"tethered to cell phones, beepers and personal digital assistants [were] the
ultimate target demographic for a bar code scanner."
Now that the Belo ramrods have found that newspaper readers won't suck for the
:CueCat, you can expect they'll be requiring registration at projo.com very
soon. They want your consumer profile so bad. Won't you please open your
shopping preferences, credit ratings, and wallets to the Belo Corporation?
Show time
Phillipe and Jorge are pleased as punch to read that Brown University's Ruth
Simmons has been chosen by Time magazine as the best college president
in the US. OK, so the mag runs very insipid stuff and provocative BS, like the
"shark attack" issue. At least Time knows class when they see it.
Simmons's address at the opening convocation, a very human admission of nerves
and a wonderful declaration of the great need for tolerance, unity, and freedom
of speech, was all we needed to see and hear. One can't help but get excited
about the potential for greatness that Simmons brings to College Hill.
Brown's new leader was selected as part of Time's "America's Best"
series. As the Brown Daily Herald noted in its report, "Time
hails Simmons as a throwback to an era when the president of a university was
courted for advice by presidents of the United States, instead of holding a
title `less and less removed from that of the Avon lady,' begging rich alumni
for money."
Since Simmons was a sharecropper's daughter in Texas, we doubt she'll be
getting any invites to Dubya's Crawford ranch or to spend a weekend at
Kennebunkport, filling in the little dope. But P&J know that when Ms.
Simmons speaks, we'll be listening. Congrats, Ruth. Go out there, take
names and kick ass.
We're waiting
Dubya the Dumb and his buddy, Big Time Dick -- two assholes in one pair of
pants if we've ever seen one -- are continuing to stonewall the General
Accounting Office's demand for the names of the corporate buccaneers and
lobbyists who helped Big Time formulate the energy policy for Dubya, who's
already a wholly-owned subsidiary of Big Oil.
The news media evidently has a convenient case of amnesia, since the press was
quite vigilant in pursuing the names of the members of the health-care task
force led by Hillary Clinton and our old pal Ira Magaziner in the early days of
the Clinton administration. Before clearing his name, Ira actually ended
up being pursued on criminal charges of having lied to Congress.
We're looking for the outrage, as Bob Dole might say, about how Big Time Dick
and Dubya think they can snub their noses at the public while trying to rape
the environment. No doubt their argument will be that the environment was
asking for it.
Mistaken rapture
While we wish we had seen this item first, we believe it is worth reprinting
from the "Funny Old World" column from Private Eye, the British
satirical magazine, and one of the initial inspirations for P&J.
" `I was slowing down, but Georgann wouldn't wait until I stopped,' Everett
Williams told police after the death of his wife in a freak motoring accident
in Arkansas City. `We both saw Jesus on the side of the road, with what looked
like 12 people slowly floating up into the air.' She started screaming,
`He's back! Jesus is back!' and we both thought the rapture was
happening. I tried to pull over, but she wouldn't wait, because she was
convinced Jesus was going to lift her up into the sky, there and
then. Before I could stop, she, she climbed right out of the sunroof
crying, `Take me Lord!,' jumped off the car, and was run over by the car
behind.'
"Officer Paul Madison later explained precisely how the accident had happened:
`What we have here is a case of mistaken rapture. It seems that a
motorist, Ernie Jenkins, was on his way to a toga costume party, dressed as
Jesus, with 12 blow-up sex dolls filled with helium in his truck. The tarp
covering the dolls came loose, and they started floating into the air, so he
stopped and got out and tried to catch them. The Williams were driving
past, saw Mr. Jenkins with his arms raised high, assumed it was the second
coming of Jesus, and Mrs. Williams jumped to the wrong conclusion. And to
her death. I tell you this is the strangest thing I've ever seen since
I've been on the force.'
"Asked to comment, Jenkins replied, `This is all too weird for me. People
have often told me I look like Jesus. That's why I thought I'd go to the
party as Christ with his 12 disciples. I never expected anything like this
to happen. I wish I'd gone as Nero instead.' "
Kudos & congrats
. . . to Mayor James E. Doyle and the folks on Pawtucket's 20-20 Committee. One
would have never taken Mayor Doyle for a visionary leader, but Jorge, who grew
up in "the Bucket," is thrilled to see the transformation that's taking place
because of the city's recent and aggressive commitment to the arts as a
cultural and economic engine. In fact, Doyle does seem to have "the vision
thing."
Attending the Fall Fibers Festival at the Slater Mill Historic Site on Sunday,
September 9, your superior correspondents met Herb Weiss, the city's
peripatetic point man for the project, who appears to be an unstoppable bundle
of energy. Considering the hard-driving Pawtucket people pushing this effort
(we also bumped into state Representative Peter Kilmartin, another highly
effective sparkplug), we have no doubt that what's happening in Pawtucket will
soon be spoken of in the same breath as "the Providence Renaissance." In fact,
among artists, it already is.
. . . to another Pawtucket guy, Representative Tony Pires. Nothing could be
more honorable than being ditched by the state's patronage king, House Speaker
John "Pucky" Harwood. In Vo Dilun, there's no better place to provide lucrative
jobs and contracts for your pals than from the House speaker's office -- not
the governor's office, not the US Senate -- and Pucky knows this. That's why
you'll never catch him running for those less powerful jobs. Being ousted as
House finance chair gives Pires lots of credibility. We only feel bad for
Representative Gordon Fox, who's just been named to replace Pires. Gordon is a
class act, and it's only a matter of time before the stench from Pucky's office
drives him out, too.
. . . to the folks from Bonanza/ Coach USA whose new, expanded bus service
from Newport and area colleges to New York City is welcome, indeed. Considering
that the largest population of out-of-state college students in Vo Dilun hail
from the New York/New Jersey area, and that Newport has not had a direct bus
link to NYC for more than 20 years, this is are smart move on many levels. A
tip of the sombrero to Donald Ross, Dave Cordeiro, and the other folks at
Bonanza for meeting a real need.
Send shoe stays, salacious rumors, and Pulitzer-grade tips to p&j[a]phx.com.
Issue Date: September 14 - 20, 2001
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