Friday, January 21, 2005

When I awoke from my drunken stupor this afternoon I wasn't exactly sure what had happened the night before. Slowly it came back to me in reverse order. I saw the toilet lid up close and personal. I saw my high school girlfriend standing next to me in the bar. I saw the girl from Mississippi with the big white spot on her tooth, smiling laughing and whispering in my ear. I saw a bottle of Stolichnaya half full. Then it was full. I rubbed my eyes, I clicked where I always click first in the morning. And then I was sure that I must have been dreaming. Because the headline read "Powell Is Stepping Down as Chairman of F.C.C. in March." Could it be? The head of the defunct F.C.C. which has enforced indecency with a terror wielding fury and who has deregulated the industry to allow unprecedented conglomeration is stepping down. The same chairman who, prior to appointment, promised to consider loosening the tyrannical indecency regulations. And then was reduced to nothing more than a tool dot he right wing agenda by Janet Jackson's right boob. Clearly the man hasn't ever seen a boob in his life because Janet's "Shock and awe" event led to a seemingly one-man campaign to rid the media of anything offensive.

So he's out. Good news? Maybe. But it's not exactly a "any change is a good change" situation. Everyone says Bush is now a man on a mission. Hopefully with so much on his plate the flashes of skin and casual slang of naughty words will slide slyly under the radar. Thank you Michael Powell. Thanks because I can't listen to Howard Stern unless I but a fucking satellite radio. Thanks because the only cable TV company in town hasn't stopped raising my rates since you got into office. Thanks for letting Cingular buy out At&T Wirless and conveniently losing track of the $150 they owe me. But most of all, thanks for leaving the internet the fuck alone.


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