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Unfiled November 1, 2001
Don't Make Me Wear That Damn Flag
By John Dolan Browse author Email

Something terrible is happening to me: I'm being pushed back into some sort of American nationalism. I spent years getting over my patriotism; but if things keep going like this, soon I'll have no choice but to wrap the damn flag around myself. Not that it would fit, unless it was a very wide flag; not that it would feel very comfortable, either. But the American Left's responses to Sept 11 and Afghanistan have been so disgusting, and the response of the rest of the world so vile and cowardly, that I've got nowhere else to go. And worst of all, the only brave and loyal friends we've got are the Brits. That's so damn confusing for an old Sinn Fein fan like myself. They have their virtues, though, the Brits; cruel they may be, but nobody ever said they were cowards.

Of course they've been doing their share of gloating too. Or at least their colonists here in New Zealand have. It's amazing, the number of different American sins which have been cited as the "real reason" for the WTC bombing. One bitter old lady (the population of Dunedin, where I live, is 97% bitter old ladies) called the bombings the result of America's involvement in pornography, as if Mohammed Atta got on that plane determined to exact revenge on behalf of Little Old New Zealanders' shock at The Sopranos.

Then there were the numberless Commonwealth leftists who simply said that the US needed taking down, by whomever was available. A macho-leftist pig named Murray Ball, famous for creating a remarkably unfunny comic about a farm dog, said on NZ radio, "The world needed to do something about the US." It really made you long for a Hell in which Ball would be trapped inside an elevator with Mohammed Atta for all eternity. What a feast of reason that would be. After a few geological eras of having his eyes gouged out by Atta, Ball might even begin to grasp that their agendas differed rather substantially.

That was the funniest part: the way in which pious NZ lefties who run in vegan dyke circles were suddenly cheering on the Taliban. Who would have known they shared so many beliefs? They don't, of course. They share only an evil glee in seeing the tall poppies fall.

"Tall poppies" is an important NZ idiom. It comes from a proverb of theirs, "The tall poppy gets the chop." In other words, anyone who stands out, does too well, outdistances the herd, is evil. So when Atta and friends staged their airshow in Manhattan, it was like a dream come true for resentful NZers. They were actually seeing the fall of the tallest poppies in the world. They watched it over and over again, couldn't get enough of it. And every one wrote letters to the editors of their local newspapers, always beginning with the obligatory "Some of my best friends are Americans..." before going into victory dances over the sexually-exciting sight of those vast American rods collapsing on themselves.

And that was only the beginning. Since the attacks, every closet America-baiter has come out shrieking. The latest casualty here is Halloween. Yes, Halloween. You see, New Zealanders didn't acknowledge that holiday until recently, and see it as an American import. Their Autumn holiday was Nov. 5, Guy Fawkes Day. And since the attacks, everyone on NZ media has been attacking Halloween -- the only really fun, anti-pious holiday -- as evil. Just today, some old jerks who got egged, quite properly, for sending trick-or-treating kids from their door with a stern lecture, were screaming on TV that Halloween is "a stupid, idiotic American custom which should be wiped."

It just doesn't sit well with this culture, the idea of actually giving something away. The notion that children should be given candy -- rather than, say, porridge, or a good stern talking-to -- it's unfathomable, and thus evil, for the mingy scone-faced locals. They find virtually all things other than gardening, eavsedropping, and tea to be morally objectionable; but more than anything in the world they hate the idea of giving anything to anyone at any time.

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Brit Gop
Her Majesty’s Gopniks : Why The Russian Stereotype Of Us Brits Is All Wrong. And Why The Truth Is Much, Much Worse.
Cold War Report
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From Lebanon To Iraq: We’re In Deep Shia Now :
The "Arab Democracy" Goes to the Polls : An eXile guide to getting your head around Lebanon’s presidential elections


Save The eXile: The War Nerd Calls Mayday
The future of The eXile is in your hands! We're holding a fundraiser to save the paper, and your soul. Tune in to Gary Brecher's urgent request for reinforcements and donate as much as you can. If you don't, we'll be overrun and wiped off the face of the earth, forever.

Scanning Moscow’s Traffic Cops
Automotive Section
We’re happy to introduce a new column in which we publish Moscow’s raw radio communications, courtesy of a Russian amateur radio enthusiast. This issue, eXile readers are given a peek into the secret conversations of Moscow’s traffic police, the notorious "GAIshniki."

Eleven Years of Threats: The eXile's Incredible Journey
Feature Story By The eXile
Good Night, and Bad Luck: In a nation terrorized by its own government, one newspaper dared to fart in its face. Get out your hankies, cuz we’re taking a look back at the impossible crises we overcame.

Your Letters
Russia's freedom-loving free market martyr Mikhail Khodorkovsky answers some of this week's letters, and he's got nothing but praise for President Medvedev.

Clubbing Adventures Through Time
Club Review By Dmitriy Babooshka
eXile club reviewer Babooshka takes a trip through time with the ghost of Moscow clubbing past, present and future, and true to form, gets laid in the process.

The Fortnight Spin
Bardak Calendar By Jared Lindquist
Jared comes out with yet another roundup of upcoming bardak sessions.

Your Letters
Richard Gere tackles this week's letters. Now reformed, he fights for gerbil rights all around the world.

13 Toxic Talents: Hollywood’s Worst Polluters
America By Eileen Jones
Everybody complains about celebrities, but nobody does anything about them. People, it’s time to stop fretting about whether we’re a celebrity-obsessed culture—we are, we have been, we’re going to be—and instead take practical steps to clean up the celebrity-obsessed culture we’ve got...


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