Americans Kind of Disappointed Al-Qaeda Hasn't Struck Again

n the two-year anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York City, many Americans marvel that in spite of the unanimously dire predictions of future attacks from the nation’s experts, the group thought to be responsible, Al-Qaeda, has been so quiet since. Too quiet.

“Weren’t we supposed to be writhing in the streets like the imperialist dogs we are by now?� questioned Doug Breiner of Minneapolis. “I thought for sure they would have nuked a bridge or drove an Amtrak train into the Sears Tower or something by now. What gives?�

“Don’t get me wrong, I mean, I’m glad nobody’s died or anything,� explained Breiner. “I’m not a sicko. But I’m kinda pissed we’ve been all worried for so long with no kind of payoff. It’s like hiding in your basement from a tornado all night and then finding out the guy on the news was talking about a Oldsmobile Toronado or something. Just kind of a pisser, sort of.�

The same sentiment has been echoed all across the country, as Americans come to grips with their lives not coming to a flaming, catastrophic end at any time during the last two years.

“Yeah, what the hell have those guys been up to?� asked an indignant Maury Jackson of Inkster, Michigan. “I guess maybe we overestimated them, I didn’t think they were the kind of terrorist organization that would just rest on their laurels after making a big splash. But I guess fame changes people. You know, that inner fire kinda fades out or whatever. It’s too bad, really. Hey, is it true Quentin Tarantino’s got a new movie coming out?�

Countless Americans remember with an air of awed nostalgia the many colorful ways security experts and politicians told them they would die only two short years ago. From jet-fuel infernos to anthrax-laced crop dusters, poisoned water reservoirs, truck bombs at day-care centers, botulism-infected milk hosed on toddlers, kamikaze suicide bombers at the GAP and nuclear power plants infiltrated by really smart Al-Qaeda moles, American security experts took an almost perverse glee in detailing the many varieties of heart-exploding terror that would inevitably follow in the wake of 9/11.

“I guess they’re probably pretty distracted now that we blew up their country and stuff,� mused NYU junior Patsy Washington about Al-Qaeda. “Which is good I guess. But it would’ve been kinda cool to see what crazy shit they dreamt up next, you know? Somebody told me they were gonna hide razor blades in all our toilet paper, that would’ve been nuts.�

“I guess it was inevitable that after a while all those constant terror alerts that never put out would lose their impact,� said retiree Sharon Henline, stroking her Yorkshire terrier. “Tell you the truth, at this point I’m more worried about that black guy who hangs out by the pay phone down on the corner. He looks kinda shady.�

That black guy who hangs out by the pay phone down on the corner, Tyrell Hughes, expressed similar sentiments. “Al-Qaeda? Nah man, fuck Al-Qaeda. How’ve I got time to worry about that when I’ve got some crazy bitch siccing her little dog on me every morning when I’m waiting for my ride to work? Damn.�

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Well, we finished shooting the pilot for Archipelago Law, and on risk of ruining the surprise for everyone, the show's good.

It was a pretty tough shoot, since we filmed on location on an uncharted desert isle, but we managed to get all the key exterior scenes in under three days before the Carnival Cruise departed without us. All interior shots can be finished on the studio lot in California. Of course, there's no interior shots for the show at this time because it all happens on a desert island, but if we ever build some huts or anything all those interior shots can probably be shot on the lot. It will be really awesome to go back to the Paramount lot again now that I have a reason to be there and they can't keep me out.

Everyone on the show is really nice and supportive so far, although there are about three cast members and a caterer I wouldn't miss if they got pink-slipped. John Flomp, the series' other star, is a real dear. Cute, sexy, even a little attractive, but he agrees with me two people who work together shouldn't be involved together, as I was thinking just before he said it. So I guess I wouldn't be really hurt if he got fired either.

The story is pretty good , for a two-hour pilot. One of those unsolvable murder mysteries that'll keep the audience guessing all the way through. There's really not much for me to do in the first episode, it's more focused on developing the character of Sheriff Burger, but I have some really great close-ups and eye contact with the Sheriff in the final scene where he's arresting the twins.

As if it needed saying, I did stupendous. I haven't acted in a long, long time, and it really shows—I have boundless energy. There was even a few times the director had to stop the shoot to tell me to stop moving around in the background, or get out of the scene since I wasn't in it. I was afraid I would blow my line, but when the moment of truth came, I was back like I'd never taken a six-year forced break.

For those of you unfamiliar with the process, now comes the long waiting period we call "past-production" where the editor people put together the complete show from all the shot footage. It takes forever in movies, but usually it's a lot quicker in television since television editors half-ass everything. It's usually the worst part of a job for me, waiting to see the finished product, but Producer Matt Viggoschultz said he's "72 percent sure" I would make the final cut. That's alright in my book! As many times as I got into shots I wasn't even scripted for, that TV editor would have to be a real fuck-up to keep me out of the entire show. So tune in to UPN whenever it comes on and you'll see Clarissa Coleman on the silver screen again.

This has been a banner year for me so far, as you can guess. First I got this job, then I got my electricity turned back on… it's like everything's coming up Clarissa. But that's no reason to settle. I'm starting to think if this show has the success I think it will, I may want to consider moving on before it gets stale and tired. It's imperative in this business to know when to move on, it's something the finely-tuned nose can smell in the air. It's been fun with the show, don't get me wrong, but it's good to keep my options in mind. I don't want to go on playing the same role over and over—I'm an actor, I need to stretch. So if the show hits I'll look at going on to a movie career, or see if I can spin Shelly off into my own series.

Of course, it's dangerous to get ahead of yourself, too. I'd better at least make sure this actually shows up on TV first. I'd hate for a repeat of that time I starred in that video only to have it show up on the Internet instead of Showtime.

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Some of you out there may think it's all fun and games here at the commune, but I assure you it's not. Fun and games were eliminated when I returned months ago, about the same time I implemented the 30% pay reductions and started receiving those death threats in my inbox. But you can't always rule with an iron thumb, as I learned shortly after being arrested for assault with an iron thumb a while back. Sometimes you have to implement diplomacy. This may be one of those times.

I am all for the occasional goofing off, when I am completely unaware of it. I heartily endorse a work environment where everyone is comfortable when I'm not present. However, when my good will is abused like a 14-year-old's johnson, it's no more Mr. Nice Guy, Alice Cooper. Hence I instituted the strict policy that all commune employees, even the meager people, are no longer allowed to host personal websites. This not only goes for time spent at the office, but time away from the commune as well, and probably infringes upon quite a few constitutional rights, not that I'm bragging.

It is necessary, I assure you. I couldn't have cared less about what my staff did in their off hours a few short weeks ago, and lament all that money wasted on expensive digital videotape. Then I discovered the unsettling image of Ted Ted, half-nude, and dressed entirely as a woman. You couldn't see the naughty bits, thanks to his concealing hands and a well-placed teddy bear, but you might as well have scraped my eyes out with a melon baler and saved me the pain. No one here could forget that frightful image, especially since print-outs of it keep winding up on the hallway bulletin board.

My confidence in Ted Ted was shaken until I found out he took the photos early in his career, when a photographer friend of his assured him all reporters got their foot in the door the same way. Word has it he even produced some candid shots of Dan Rather to prove his point, which I won't argue with, since I don't want to see them myself. But Ted Ted promised the photos were quite old and he no longer engaged in such antics and the man who posted them would mysteriously turn up missing by the end of the week. However, this did not end the whole affair. As usual, with my staff, it was only the beginning.

I'm sure it's been the same case with friends you know, one friend is found looking quite attractive in drag in an old picture, then suddenly everyone is claiming they would look better dressed as a woman. If they want to make such claims and argue them over the water cooler, fine. If they want to host a private party where they all dress up just to prove a point, I have no problem with that either. When they start devoting an exorbitant amount of work time and personal finances to hosting websites where they are dressed as women, unbeknownst to site surfers, and ask people to rate their attractiveness in relation to each other, well, that's where I draw the line. Admittedly, my line-drawing was a little late on this occasion.

As I made clear to them yesterday, I will no longer tolerate randomly surfing for poontang and discovering one of my reporters wearing a teddy and garters. This also goes to the columnists and IT associates. Particularly Randy. Your news work is getting sloppy, the broadband out there is being tested, and I am sick of reading letters from lonely prisoners.

It is also a waste of time. It is quite clear Ivan Nacutchacokov is the real honey amongst you. Suck it up and give the queen his crown, fellas.

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