cialis online pharmacy

cialis online pharmacy

At this point, I think most people would agree that we live in a mad, mad, mad world. Candle-lit vigils were held to mourn the death of Saddam Hussein, the gruesome twosome Bush and Blair are still daring to hint that they will invade Iran to stem further uranium enrichment, and the citizens of the world’s only superpower seem to think that a presidential candidacy should hinge on the fact that the name Obama rhymes with Osama. That said, there can be no better indication of just how topsy-turvy things have become than the pandemonium that paralyzed Boston last week.

Those who know the city would describe it as picturesque and charming, an urban testament to all that is good about unapologetic liberalism and intellectualism. But last Wednesday, the city was transformed into a dystopic version of itself as the discovery by the authorities of up to 38 electronic light boards – replete with straggly wires, batteries, and ticking noises – led to the suspension of all public transport services, the closure of most bridges as well as part of the Charles River. Apparently, police officials who discovered the flashy devices believed them to be bombs cunningly planted across the city in order to paralyze the mass transit system. Only after exploding one of the “bomb-like” devices, deploying bomb squads throughout the suburbs, alerting federal authorities, and diverting interstate traffic did police officials realize what they were dealing with: Lite Brites, children’s toys that allow users to create pictures by arranging translucent pegs into an opaque board.

Even better, as darkness fell on that chaotic Wednesday eve, it became clear that the suspect implosives were in fact images of ‘mooninites’ – delinquent travelers from outer space who appear in a popular cartoon – impolitely flashing a raised middle finger at passing motorists. The Boston authorities’ top-notch anti-terror investigation later revealed that the devices were artistic installation pieces mounted throughout major US cities – including Seattle, New York, Chicago, Atlanta, LA, Austin, and Philadelphia – as part of a “guerilla marketing strategy” deployed by the Turner Broadcasting System. The profane mooninites, it so happens, are recurring characters on Turner’s late-night, ‘adult-swim’ cult cartoon “Aqua Teen Hunger Force”, a surreal piece of social commentary – one can only presume – featuring a talking milkshake, sarcastic French fries, and a meatball. 

Soon after the art attack had been decoded, two young installation artists were arrested on the charges of placing a hoax device in a way that results in panic as well as a count of disorderly conduct. Sean Stevens and Peter Berdovsky are freelance video artists. In an apt twist to this zany tale, Berdovsky, who goes by the nickname Zebbler, is a Massachusetts College of Art graduate and Belarusian immigrant who sings in a band called Superfiction and is currently seeking asylum in the US.

Having thus snagged the attention of the media, the two trouble-making bohemians – in an echo of their fine artistic installations – went on to raise a metaphorical middle finger at the authorities in a manner that would make rebels of yore, from the impressionists to the anarchists, proud. Speaking at a press conference after being released on bail, Stevens and Berdovsky refused to apologize for their art, and instead made a mockery of the proceedings by insisting that they would only take questions regarding the most “pressing” of modern-day problems—1970s hairstyles. Seriously. I’ll hazard a guess that the logic behind this decision was that a conversation pitting the mullet against the mop-top would probably be more productive than one analyzing the irresponsibility of their art and the need to further curtail free expression in any medium. Unfortunately, Boston Mayor Thomas Menino was not amused and still plans on suing Turner for the hundreds of thousands of dollars it cost the city to mobilize national security forces and deploy local police on a 12-hour-long wild goose chase for trinkets rather than real terrorists.

In another “only in America” moment, the contentious devices were on sale within 18 odd hours of their discovery at the online auction website eBay, going for a top bid of 625 dollars. Meanwhile, conservative bloggers and commentators took the opportunity to remind America that Islamic fundamentalists with nefarious plans and nuclear warheads were lurking around every corner, ready to destroy the very fabric of American society. They argued that if the devices had indeed been bombs, rather than crass cartoon characters, that Boston had been saved in the nick of time, which just wasn’t good enough to let Middle America sleep easy. Some online conspiracy theorists even began to speculate whether or not Osama bin Laden had relocated to Belarus.

A week on from the mooninite-induced mayhem, and Boston is just beginning to settle down. But the incident will long rankle with sharp-thinking Americans for whom this incident serves as a reminder that six years after 9/11, their compatriots are still scared, inconvenienced by their own terror. After all, it can’t be comforting to know that the authorities have replaced commonsense with caution and a sense of humour with security protocol, to the extent that well-trained policemen can no longer recognize a boorish and badly assembled toy for what it is.

Meanwhile, one can’t help but regret the fact that the most contentious, provocative, and subversive work of art to have shaken citizens of their complacency and garnered endless public attention in the past few years has been the result of a clever advertising campaign by one of the biggest broadcasters, Turner, a bastion of all that is corporate, codified, and capitalist. So much for the struggles of self-respecting bohemians. And so much for the US government’s assertion that the ‘war on terror’ is a battle half won.