I hung out with 18,000 of my closest friends Saturday night at Madonna's final show of the "Drowned World Tour." I will give a full recap soon.

I'm tired. I'm numb, desensitized and plain old exhausted.

I'm tired of seeing innumerable views of planes flying into buildings. I'm tired of the words tragedy, victims, unspeakable, disaster, stunning, incomprehensible, unimaginable and speechless. I'm tired of American flags, candles, vigils, prayers, moments of silence, moments of remembrance. I'm tired of watching the media breathlessly report on missing relatives, candle lit processions and people singing hymns.

I'm tired of the news media fueling America's desperate yearning for a sense of community. The media, while in theory only reflects what is happening, can change the way people feel simply by promoting and encouraging what they think is the news.

Would the current countrywide sentiment of overwhelming patriotism have occurred had it not been for the ever-present images of patriotism on TV? If after someone watches hours and hours of people praying, holding flags and chanting "go U.S.A.," wouldn't they feel left out if they weren't going with the flow?

Yesterday our company held a remembrance thing in the park downstairs. I didn't want to go, because I just don't process things like this in that way. But, I almost went out of sheer guilt. Like, if I didn't go, I'd just be seen as a heartless, jaded, anti-American or something. (I am probably giving my co-workers too little credit. I'm sure they could care less.) The point is: that notion ran through my head. If it ran through my head, it could be running through the minds of others.

It's like America's state of emotion, which is a blend of hate, anger and sorrow, has been partially manipulated by the media. Now, not only are we a country that has lost many thousands of lives, but we are a country that wants to kick ass, go to war and kill the bastards -- all while waving a flag, eating apple pie and singing "God Bless America."

I think most people, including myself, don't understand exactly why we were attacked. I don't pretend to know that much about the details, but I do know that the U.S. isn't exactly loved for its foreign policies in countries abroad. Certainly, the U.S. military has helped kill thousands of Middle Eastern civilians in the past, but because the U.S. news media has failed to address this in a sufficient manner, most Americans think that what happened on Tuesday was a baseless attack. (Links via Jonno.)

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying what happened wasn't horrible and incredibly sad and wrong. All I'm trying to get across is that the media is doing a lukewarm job at trying to explain to me why it happened. Shouldn't we know why the U.S. is seen as enemy by so many? Especially after four days of 24-hour news coverage?

I'm fine. I just don't have anything to say right now.

Kellogg's is going to produce two breakfast cereals based upon "The Simpsons" -- Homer's Cinnamon Donut Cereal and Bart Simpson Peanut Butter Chocolate Crunch. They will arrive in stores later this month. (What, no Krusty Brand Cereal?)

… Proof that I really did hang out with Dave and Pete a few weeks ago. Yup, I'm pale.

… Old news, but new to me: Cher has recorded a cover of Thelma Houston's "Don't Leave Me This Way" for her forthcoming album. The set should be released in November.

… Tonight I went out on a "datefirstmeetingthing." I think. I never know how these things work. (I now know, however, not to go out on a first "datefirstmeetingthing" at a noisy restaurant. Makes for lovely conversation: "What did you say?" "What?" "Huh?" "I'm sorry, what?")

We had an earthquake about 20 minutes ago. It was supposedly a 4.2 and was centered about 6 miles north/northeast of Santa Monica 2 miles west of my apartment. (Basically next door to Dave.) I was outside at the time, walking home from getting change. All I heard was the buildings around me rumbling and shaking, like everyone inside all of the apartments had dropped a few bowling balls. I quickly shifted from walking on the sidewalk to the middle of the street. Nothing in my place was damaged, aside from my Ron Weasley figurine, which is now broken at the ankles. Other than that, just your standard cds and picture frames fell.

The unavoidable VMA recap … Jamie Foxx did well when he wasn't doing stand-up. His interaction with Will Smith was great, and it looked to be improvisation. 'N Sync and Michael surprised just about everyone, and yeah, it was still exciting to see them perform together. I totally love that damn "Pop" song now.

Alicia Keys' performance was solid. Missy was great too -- and good lord her set cost an arm and a leg. Triumph The Insult Comic Dog ruled. Great to see Nikka Costa up on stage -- even though most folks don't know who the hell she is. My Mo didn't win, alas. Though our favorite Brit, The Robster, took home the Best Special Effects trophy -- but he lost Best Male Video. And "Lady Marmalade" winning Video of the Year? What the … ?

But Britney … where to begin? The third rate Prince knock-off that is "I'm A Slave 4 U?" That poor manhandled snake? The caged tiger? Her tiny "been there, done that" bikini? I kept waiting for the song to kick into high gear or something, but it never did. MTV is comparing the track to Vanity's "Nasty Girl." Now see, the funky "Nasty" has springy synths, a hook the size of New Mexico and convincingly sexed-up vocals. "Slave" doesn't. Hey, maybe it'll grow on me, after all, "Pop" did. (Can't wait to read what Max has to say.)

I'm going to miss Chris Connelly. He signed off as an MTV correspondent during the post-show. The very funny Connelly was always on the ball, great with handling stars and especially on-point when stuck in front of a live camera.

I guess I'm getting old, but aside from Chris, Kurt Loder and John Norris, all those other news folks are pretty sucky. You can tell that MTV is trying to phase Kurt and John out. Kurt seemed to be absent from the pre-show and was stuck in the garage during the post-show, while John was trapped in the vacant balcony of the lobby. Kurt did well with Sheryl Crow (but then again, she's a smart cookie and a good interview) but was probably asking himself "why God?" when he had to chit-chat with Dream. (Best quote of the evening came from one of the Dream girls, who said something along the lines of "it's been a long time since we've seen a check.")

But anyway, about the other News guys: I like Gideon Yago 'cause he's cute, but he's not so hot with live TV. I do think he'll improve though. That Suchin Pak chick is like an annoying cheerleader. Give me Serena or Tabitha, dammit! Sway still stumbles over words and sounds stiff when reading a teleprompter. Designated "Rock Guy" Iann Robinson doesn't seem like a journalist -- he's just a metalhead that happens to be in front of the camera.

I'm not dead. (As if five days of non-blogging means I've died.) I've just been preoccupied with my mouth and the lame teeth than inhabit it. I need to get a root canal and a crown. Blah. This is what I get for waiting over a year to do anything about my problem tooth.

This is sort of old news, but isn't it odd how no one has blamed the stupid fans at that System of a Down show for the "social insurgence?" The band says that if they had gone on and performed, the crowd would have behaved. The cops said there were too many people and not enough communication and planning on the organizers part. The fans blame everyone for not telling them that the band wasn't going to play. Sure, I'd be a little pissed off if my favorite band was going to play a show, and I had camped out to see them, and then they just up and didn't play. (It was a free show too.) However, I wouldn't rush the stage and start trashing their gear. (The band suspects that these people are not representative of true fans. Go figure.)

Britney is supposedly going to fake an orgasm on stage tonight at the MTV Video Music Awards. She'll be performing her new song "I'm A Slave 4 U" while four cheetahs prowl around the set. Good grief. There is also a report that she won't be at the Michael Jackson thingamabob on Friday night because of her contractual agreements with HBO. And I was so looking forward to their duet of "I Just Can't Stop Loving You."

Earlier tonight I was standing in line at the Blockbuster, waiting to check out episodes 5-8 of the second season of "Sex and the City." I was unfortunately sandwiched between two tattooed men (nothing against the ink, mind you) who had absolutely no skill in the art of conversation. The guy behind me used the words "man" and "dude" countless times during the course of his chat with the ponytailed man in front of me. Lots of yammering about their tattoo artist -- which seemed to be the common bond between them.

It's funny how I, who didn't even know either of these two, was actually following the line of conversation better than the "dude" behind me. See, Ponytail was trying to allude to how their Artist used to be a big druggie, but, Dumb Dude just wasn't getting it. It was one of those "I'm hinting at what I'm really saying, and you're totally thinking something else" moments.

Here comes the worst part. All this time I was aware that a semi-celebrity was in our midst. But, like any good, normal, Angelino, I didn't wave my hands about and start whispering loudly about him. Of course, Dumb Dude behind me raised his hand and pointed, a la "Invasion of the Body Snatchers," and said, "hey that's Matt Dillon's brother over there." (Over there being all of 15 feet away at the register.) Sure enough, just like I had noticed minutes earlier, there was Kevin Dillon, renting some PlayStation games. Unfortunately, Ponytail didn't hear clearly, so Dumb Dude repeated himself, and again pointed.

A few beats later, Dillon came over, scooted inbetween me and Dumb Dude to grab a game off the display. Of course, Dude said something like "hey, yeah, cool, dude, man" in a "I Know Who You Are And This Is Me Trying To Say Something" tone. At this point, my head was down, concentrating on the popcorn in front of me, hoping that Dude wouldn't say "I loved you in 'The Blob' dude, man, dude!" Thankfully, Dude didn't stop him or wrestle him to the ground.

Things I've gleaned from the new Fall TV issue of "Entertainment Weekly." The upcoming season will bring us no fewer than 18 crime/law shows. (Really.) … "The X Files'" Krycek may have not died in last season's finale. Evidently clues are found in his last few lines of dialogue before he was shot by Skinner. (David should be jumping for joy right now.) … Breckin Meyer ("Go" and "54") gets his own sitcom with "Inside Schwartz." Unfortunately, he also gets the dreaded NBC Thursday at 8:30 timeslot. (Doomed shows that have started there in the past: "Boston Common," "Jesse," "Union Square," "Cursed" and "The Single Guy," among others.)

"Sabrina The Teenage Witch" will bump into her former boyfriend Harvey (Nate Richert, who left the show a while back). I have a soft spot for Richert. He's a cutie. Don't fault me for having watched "Sabrina" in the past. It was fun, often quite humorous, TGIF goodness. Though I haven't actually seen the show since it moved from ABC to WB last year.

Quiz Time. Who is 17 years old, married to a 33 year old woman, jobless and lives in Lawrence, Kansas? Why, Taran Noah Smith, the kid who played Mark (the youngest brother) on TV's "Home Improvement." Smith is fighting his parents for access to his trust fund, which is worth $1.5 million. Currently, he won't get the money until his 18th birthday, in 2002, but he says his parents are spending it frivolously and wants to take control of the fund.

Ok, if he wasn't on a hit TV show for nine years (it concluded in '99), he'd just be another sad white trash case. C'mon! He's 17, living in the basement of his wife's former prom date (who is also serving as their lawyer!) and isn't going to school. Noah, babe, this woman is taking you for a ride. Your parents are probably smart cookies, knowing full well that she's going to rip you off. And why aren't you in college, or even employed?

… Quiz Time 2. Who is 36 years old, 6'1", single, handsome and a former gymnast? "Six Feet Under's" Peter Krause.

… Good gravy, there are going to be nine different versions of the Backstreet Boys upcoming greatest hits? The U.S. edition will sport a paltry 13 tracks, while most territories get 16. Pfft.