Alert all airbases! Destroy all roads!

The political fervor of last month’s Presidentss Day weekend began with a fiery session at the United Nations on Feb. 21. Colin Powell completed his about-face by making his administration’s case to the leaders of the world. Tom Ridge, Director of Homeland Security, had raised the alert level to code orange, while other government officials advised the purchase of duct tape and plastic sheeting. On Feb. 23, millions of people shuffled their way down the streets of the world protesting what many believe to be the single-minded determinacy of one man. George W. Bush was already formulating his thoughts towards a retort directed at the protesters, who had apparently done nothing to change his mind. Meanwhile Iraq, France, Germany, North Korea, Israel, Palestine and Iran continued their chatter.

It was a weekend of worldwide events that culminated personally into an absolutely mind-numbing Monday evening. While the nation was on high security alert, 10 of us were gathered around the television celebrating one of our latest acquisitions, the Monty Python DVD box set. That’s every single episode in the history of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, 1969-1974. Weighing in at a hearty 45 episodes, each a half-hour long, this was no small endeavor. But with only so many hours in the day, it wasn’t long before we were due back at school and work the next morning. Thus, the three-day weekend ended with 39 1/2 episodes to go. As we made our way back through the years’ best sketches—"Party Political Broadcast,” “The Spanish Inquisition,” “The Attila the Hun Show” and “Blood, Devastation, Death, War and Horror"—we seemed miles away from other worldly debates.

But that was exactly where we wanted to be, a needed change of pace from 24 hours before, when we were among those dissenting crowds that had taken to the streets of San Francisco. Now, back in a friend’s living room, we found ourselves far from the Madding Crowd. The absurdity of John Cleese in “The Cheese Shop” cut to “Sam Pekinpah’s ‘Salad Days’ “ and provided a retreat from the real world. Some may say such diversions mean we put our heads in the sand, but it’s something we can do to cope with our rising anxiety.

With continued talk of preemptive war and its aftermath, many feel helpless as to what they can do. Even if protests failed to reverse the preparations already underway for war, there was at least a sense of catharsis in having some small role in what seems to be an inevitable process.

But regardless of where one stands politically, all of us are faced with the same question. How much “reality” is too much? At what point do we make the attempt to ignore what is happening around us and seek out peace of mind?

It is difficult to decide what is best when officials make sweeping statements regarding general threats, telling us to keep vigilant, avoid crowded areas, stockpile food and water. Many of us sit nervously at home waiting for small pearls of advice from experts who recommend setting up a “safe-room,” supposedly protecting us from chemical and biological weapons.

An article in the New York Times reported that experts believe the “safe-room” to be chiefly for psychological benefit. Well, if cautionary advice can offer no more than psychological benefit, why not just gather up some friends for a rerun party of your favorite television series? Then, at least, we could make believe that the world is a safer place.

While both Time and Newsweek published cover stories on the growing American angst, the flashing alert headlines of most TV stations did nothing to quiet our nerves. When the rapid pace of network programming leaves us saturated with war rhetoric and bellicose political leaders, it’s not surprising that we feel the way we do. Monty Python’s bizarre world doesn’t seem that strange after all. There simply seems to be no room for the ordinary person in all that is happening.

I pretend not to be anxious, at least not concerning worldly affairs. But my indecision seems to be consistent with what I read about other Americans. Given a choice, I for one am no longer certain which view of reality I prefer—an informed, current and paranoid one or an insular, comfortable one. And on the eventful weekend of Presidents’ Day 2003, it came down to two choices. Sunday was spent involved, active, and frustrated. Monday found me in a little corner of Northwest Reno, surrounded by friends who were closely monitoring the progress of F.W.E.E.B.L.E (Free World Extra Earthly Bodies Location and Extermination center). Seated at a desk in a giant and empty white room, Supreme Commander Lansing interrupts his search for the origin of his body odor to receive a briefing on the whereabouts of Mr. Neutron. He excitedly replies:

“Surround the entire city! Send in four waves of armed paratroopers with full ground-to-air missile supports! Alert all airbases! Destroy all roads! We’ll bomb the town flat if we have to! Surround everyone with everything we’ve got! I want three full-scale global nuclear alerts with every Army, Navy and Air Force unit on eternal standby … and introduce conscription!”

Hilarity ensues. Ahhhh, the absurdity of it all.