002 was a banner year for news. As long as the banner said, “BO-RING!�

Yes, as we reach the beginning of a brand new news year, we look back on 2002 with more than a slight Elvis sneer of derision, like a party guest finally leaving with a heavy hangover and leaving our sofa and rug stained with vomit. 2002 may go down in the history books as, “The Year of ‘…Anyway…’�

Like a half-assed sitcom following Friends and preceding ER, much of 2002 felt squashed in-between two major news periods. Following hot on the heels of the events of Sept. 11^th and the bombing of Afghanistan that heralded the War on Terror, things settled down into a dreary boredom in 2002 as Americans waited for big news events that still have yet to come—the bombing of Iraq, a resolution to the North Korea situation, and any evidence Osama bin Laden is alive or dead. All original and fascinating news is being greedily reserved by the newsmakers, as if they’re holding out for a news sweeps week.

Early 2002 was host to the Winter Olympics, the globally-conceded most boring of all Olympics, in the globally-conceded most boring state in the union, Utah. Thank whatever you call a God for the much-covered flap when ice-skating Canadians David Pelletier and Jamie Salé were robbed of their rightful gold medal by a sly-footed French judge, or your only memories of it would be a gaggle of fruitcakes slapping a puck with a stick in the atrocity called “curling.�

Much of the early news year was limited to the images of Enron’s senior staff shrugging before a Senate sub-committee with a less-than-convincing “I dunno,� followed by footage of a shrapnel-filled site in downtown Israel as the violence that made the Middle East famous escalated to ludicrous heights, until an all-out assault on Yassir Arafat’s bunker broke the boredom very briefly. There was also Ray Brent Marsh, the Georgia crematorium owner who tossed the bodies in the lake and passed the savings on to you. Thanks to Marsh, along with multiple kidslaughter defendant Andrea Yates and the hockey dad who loved local sports a bit too much, the first few months of 2002 news were occasionally livened up by local heroes.

An historical Oscar win for Best Actor and Best Actress by African-Americans Denzel Washington and Halle Berry helped draw attention away from the fact the Hollywood community now considers Opie the Best Director in its midst. Even the biggest celebrity murderer of the year was only former Little Rascal Robert Blake, leaving Court-TV to wait patiently for the shoplifting trial of Winona Ryder.

Summer gave everyone a little hope for a brighter news year when nine miners faced certain doom, trapped in a mine shaft, and no one was happier when they were retrieved alive and healthy. Then the week ended and everyone went back to bitching about terrorism and the tumbling stock market.

As the rate of insane presidential utterances concerning Iraq increased, Americans hit the peak of the news year when a series of sniper attacks across America finally put an end to superfluous Elvis coverage. However, it wasn’t enough to save a pisser as a news year, and after the sniper suspects were arrested America quieted once again. Republicans received a boost from a record low-voter turnout off-year election and Trent Lott’s ill-conceived pro-segregationist remarks embarrassed the Bush administration, something that is truly hard to do.

News pundits have a great case for 21^st century to be the most boring yet, but the commune news is quick to remind everyone 1901-1910 was a pretty crappy decade for news and the 20^th century didn’t heat up until the sinking of the Titanic and World War I. We can make this one even better, just keep working at it.

short letter received by the U.N. in the mail Friday stated briefly and succinctly that U.N. weapons inspectors were tired of "dumb-ass Iraq" and wanted "to go home."

The letter surprised most everybody at the U.N., who believed the weapons inspectors were all very happy in their duties in the Middle East. Weapons inspectors had been in Iraq in years previous to prove Saddam Hussein has kept the country free of nuclear material and other weapons outlawed by their post-Gulf War agreement. Just months ago, before their return, the weapons inspectors were practically "hitting the roof to go back," according to Secretary-General Kofi Annan.

"You know how weapons inspectors are," said Annan. "When they're here, they want to be there. When they're there, they want to be here."

Trouble started approximately three weeks ago, when weapons inspectors team leader Hans Blix called Annan at midnight and asked how long they expected the search to last. Annan said he couldn't be sure, and Blix suggested that they should return home and discuss the length of the trip to Iraq. After Annan refused, Blix called back four hours later and stated the whole team had agreed they were 100% sure Iraq didn't have any weapons anymore, even though they had only searched a handful of places.

Weapons inspector psychologist Danni Jersey said the behavior was not unusual.

"Most people expect this sort of reaction during the first weapons search," said Dr. Jersey, "but the truth is that the first trip contains more exploration, the discovery of new places, hopefully without weapons, and new friends. Although it's somewhat frightening for weapons inspectors, it is still exciting and keeps them involved.

"By the time a second trip comes around, expectations are raised, to unreasonable expectations sometimes. It is impossible to experience the same level of enjoyment and mystery all over again, and there's naturally some disappointment from the second search. Finding some weapons might make it more exciting, but if not, it's a matter of reconciling expectations and reality. No wonder they want to come home."

In the rest of Friday's letter, weapons inspectors told the U.N. that they had looked everywhere and found no weapons, everyone in Iraq hated them, and they found living conditions were "for shit." As part of the agreement with the U.N., a "host family" allows one weapons inspector to stay with them in a room they have set up. There have been no formal complaints on either side, but there has been much speculation about tension between host families and inspectors.

"I have nothing against the U.N., or the agreement Iraq has made after the conflict," said Iraqi Army corporal and host family patriarch Amani El-Abib. "But our weapons inspector, Terry, is quite a disagreeable boy. He never lifts a finger to clean up, he complains about the food, and sometimes I wake up in the morning and find he is searching our kitchen for weapons-grade plutonium. It's just bad manners to do so without asking permission."

Terry Gröfberg, a Swedish weapons inspector staying with the El-Abibs, felt similar antagonism for his hosts.

"They're nice and all, but old man El-Abib is always flying off the handle. He says I'm corrupting his children with my techno music, that I'm acting like an infidel when I ask if there's any electricity in the house, and that I keep looking at his wife when her veil is off. Dude, his wife's nice, but not my type at all. Just chill, muslim dude. Not everybody wants your stuff."

Secretary-General Kofi Annan had expectations that a little tough love would help the weapons inspectors stay focused on their mission.

"It's not the time for coddling now," said Annan. "I know they want to come home, but it will be better for them in the long run if they stay. They will fulfill their obligation, possibly help prevent more death from military conflict, and it will build character."

Dear commune:

I had to write after reading the letter from "Brokenhearted Mom in Virginia." My 14-year-old daughter developed an Internet relationship with a now 21-year-old man when she was 10. By the time she was 12, he was drawing her into a deeply dysfunctional relationship. Unbeknownst to her, he was a mental patient who was obsessed with suicide and self-mutilation. "Brokenhearted Mom" needs to act quickly before the same thing happens to her daughter.

Wiser in Worcester


Dear Wiser:

the commune was touched by your touching letter and hilarious name. Someone has probably pointed this out to you previously, but did you realize your name also doubles as a descriptive phrase? That’s too much. It could even do triple-duty as a ham radio handle. Man, how funny to be you.

In regards to your letter, at first we here at the commune thought it might have been misdirected, given that we’ve never published a letter from "Brokenhearted Mom in Virginia." Believe us, we’d remember a name like that. The fact that your letter wasn’t addressed to us and was found out in the hallway inside a sack of stolen credit card applications also raised a few eyebrows. But by the time we got to the end of your letter, we realized you had the right place and the universe was just getting your letter to us by an unconventional means of delivery.

We can only guess that "Brokenhearted Mom in Virginia" wrote to you directly, and you wanted to share your response with the world so all might benefit, either that or there was a chocolate smudge on the envelope covering her return address. No worries, as that happens to us all the time, only sometimes it’s not chocolate.

Lastly, though we think your advice to "Heartbroken Mom" is sound and responsible, we must stress that commune reporter Bludney Pludd isn’t really as dangerous as he seems over the Internet. Don’t worry, we get this kind of stuff all the time, no need to be embarrassed. But we assure you that "Brokenhearted’s" daughter is in no more danger than any of the other 12-year-olds Pludd’s been dating, unless of course she’s allergic to roller-skating. Like they say, you’re only as old as you feel, and trust us when we say Bludney Pludd feels about ten years old to everyone he meets.

the commune

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Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for any broken hearts or promises resulting from Bludney Pludd not taking your daughter to the Jr. High prom. Bludney is a busy young man with many responsibilities and EverQuest meetings every Friday evening.

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