...Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The War.
There are a lot of opinions concerning the threat of war nowadays. That's right, war. You can absorb yourself in reunions of television shows that have long past their point of social relevance or what attention whores got married only to get divorced in less time than it takes to finish traffic school, but that's the reality. Our poorly concieved sequel of a president and his backup singers are finding every excuse they can to blow up an area filled with oil and violent chauvanists, which actually sounds kind of fun to watch. Generally, there are two schools of thought on the subject that actually span multiple tax brackets. There are the war supporters; who show their consent with everything from bumper stickers to their toothless murmurings accompanying shotguns cocking to the tune of 'Dueling Banjos'. And by writing derogatory graffiti on bombs and private property while threatening, beating, and detaining anyone that doesn't look like them, they're certainly doing their part. On the other side, there are various groups that protest the oncoming conflict in favor of dropping Bibles and flowers on the enemy instead. With their signs covered in catchy slogans and proactivity born of a hippie trail mix of cowardice, a lack of self-defense skills, and Birkenstocks, they believe they'll turn the world around with their flyers and chants -- which they are. It's turned around, turned up the stereo, and closed the curtains, muttering "I didn't know today's forecast called for the '60's." You want to know what's so funny 'bout peace and understanding? How about the people who represent it?

Calm Like A Bomb
I've fallen into a third group, a rapidly growing demographic when coming in contact with either supporters or detractors, we plug our ears, sing loudly and run until we're safely out of the realm of popular opinion. You might remember us from the 2000 election - sorry, our bad. As long as we're not involved, we don't have to do anything, which is a philosophy I empathize with completely. Normally, I wouldn't even care enough to write about something like this. However, I've decided to take a stand and do something truly bold - start my own group. Oh, sure - it may seem like silent consent, but I'm no damn mine. So hear me out - my stance is that war or no war , only one thing is important:

I win either way.

No war? Fine. Everyone can just shut up and let the world continue its slow slide into hell. At least wait until the Matrix, Lord Of The Rings, and Star Wars Prequel trilogies are done before we start trying to blow each other up. Though if this conflict is truly the inevitable strike back against the Axis Of Evil ^(tm) everyone's making it out to be, one thing can't be far behind. Armageddon. The final battle. The apocalypse. And we all know what that means - post apocalyptic landscape!

The Omega, Man.
See, while war, death, and chaos are mainly friends to the undertaker and Gary Oldman from The Fifth Element, we've gotten chummy over tea and scones, talking at length about the state of the world today. And the discussion has always come to a singular conclusion - we naturally do better after wars. So why not kick this millenium off with a mushroom cloud? Lord knows we're all aching for an excuse to use the canned goods and water we stocked up on after Y2k. This leaves my only prediction for any kind of interesting future with movies like Escape To L.A. or The Road Warrior; portraits of bleak, blasted wastelands populated by roving gangs of marauding punks and killer cyborgs, and the men battling against them with permanent five o' clock shadows, constant grimaces, and an unending supply of ammo and bad one-liners. I've long since given up the vision of the world ever being anything like the Jetsons (which, I must admit, was a stupid TV show to begin with). Time and stand-up comedy have proven the lofty ideal of man living on the moon, driving flying cars to sky-high houses with robot maids and talking dogs while begging their wives with strange hair to 'stop this crazy thing' is as ridiculous as a crossover with the Flintstones. It'd be a much simpler life looting storefronts and escaping the tribes of radioactive mutant cannibal amazons roaming the cities. Maybe we'd even get lucky enough to have some bio-agents be released in the ensuing struggle and the whole thing would start off like The Stand. The choice is clear. Why live in a Bio-Dome when you can live Beyond Thunderdome?

Nuclear Winner
So America, I Want You. To drop a bomb. Show all of these snooty historians and veterans that our generation is capable of more than bad covers of World War II. Get M.A.D. (Mutually Assured Destruction) so we can get glad! And when you look up from being chased by talking apes through a cornfield and see the demolished Statue of Liberty, don't forget to thank the maniacs who blew it all up. Otherwise we could've ended up in a post-apocalyptic version of Waterworld or The Postman, and no one wants that.