The Hall of Mirrors

I actually managed to convince my Republican boss to accompany me and my co-worker (L) to see Fahrenheit 9/11. L and I both have suspicions that our boss, F, has secret liberal yearnings deep inside her that she can't acknowledge. During the day she votes for Bush and says things like, "Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime." She looks and sounds just like all the other conservative girls. But at night, L and I think she goes home and masturbates to liberal porn. She probably tells herself it's just for relaxation, that it doesn't mean she's a liberal, and there's no need for her conservative husband to find out. And I can see a bit of a thrill in her eye when I respond to her arguments with statements like, "Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Take away the fish from ethnic minorities and give it to white people, feed the white people for a lifetime." If she's not a secret liberal, why has she consistently hired only liberal VISTAs to surround her in the office? Why else would she be trying to help poor, ethnically diverse children get into college? More importantly, why would she ever pay $8 to see a Michael Moore movie?

Of course, I had already seen the movie, but L wanted to see it and I wanted F to see it, so we wolfed down some great Vietnamese food and zipped over the theater just in time for the previews. I also had enough time to buy some Skittles (they didn't sell Sour Patch Kids) from a teenager with hair like Art Garfunkel. He tried to be funny, asking me if I wanted my free cup of water "on the rocks." Neither of us laughed. After he told me the price for the Skittles, he asked in a monotone voice, "Are you sure you don't want to try the summer special?" I saw a look of utter disgust flash into his eyes; it was a moment of rebellion against The Theater. "Um, was that an eye-roll I just saw? Are you sick of offering the summer special?" I asked. He looked around him for The Management before whispering, "I have three days left, then I'm out of here." It was a nice prelude to the movie.

For those of you who haven't seen Fahrenheit 9/11, you should be warned that it is utter propaganda from beginning to end. This fascinating and controversial film is many things, but a documentary it is not. It's thought-provoking, touching, and often very funny, but it's not objective enough to change the mind of any true Republican. When we left the theater, F said that she felt like she was in a fun house in the hall of mirrors, because of "all the distortion." She claimed that if you only tell the facts that support your side and hide everything else, you can make a situation look like anything you want it to. This is true, of course, but she doesn't want to believe that conservatives do the very same thing. And she flat-out denied that she had witnessed John Ashcroft singing in the film--nor would she believe he wrote the song he was singing. "He has more sense than that," she said, shaking her head woefully. I, on the other hand, accepted reality: I spent all day today at the office walking around belting, "Let the eeeeeeeeeeagle sooooooooar, like it's never sooooooooooared before..."

Elliot called me tonight with three pieces of wonderful news. 1) He'll be here in a week, 2) he's bringing me presents from California, and 3) his beard will be gone by the time he gets here. Although I will no longer be able to close my eyes and pretend I'm kissing Michael Moore, number 3 still makes me happy. There's nothing quite like a clean-shaven man, especially one bearing gifts. I should temper this by saying that my dear friend Edward Giles IV has shaved his beard, which was disappointing. Since I don't have to kiss him, I enjoyed his beard and will eagerly wait for its return. In other hair news, I haven't shaved my legs in weeks. I'm ready to join a hip central-Austin hippie Vegan co-op; you may never hear from me again.