illusionofjoy | You want "freedom" with that?

When I was still a peon at SUNY Potsdam, there was a semester when the issue of what name a carbonated beverage should bear came to the forefront of many individuals' psyches. This wasn't a war between Pepsi and Coke, though it's origins and mechanisms were equally ridiculous. No, this was the "pop" versus "soda" debate. It seemed that most everyone from upstate, northern and urban New York referred to carbonated beverages as "soda," while the denizens of Rochester, Buffalo and the Finger Lakes region vehemently allied themselves with "pop."

This simply wouldn't have been an issue had each side accepted that they knew what the other were talking about and dropped the whole matter. However, instead of following that logical course of action, each side opted instead to try and convert the other's terminology to that of their own. Obviously this did not work, as everyone faced with an attempt at conversion doggedly held fast to their traditional way of referring to carbonated beverages.

I, personally, am in the soda camp. The word "soda" just feels and sounds more aesthetically pleasing to me. Now that I live in Pittsburgh, I've found a few individuals who are trying to convert me once more to the "pop" camp. This I usually just brush aside, and, if I feel the need, quash with a fun little entomology debate.

At least no one has asked me for some "freedom fries" yet. Though the majority of my internet access is via public libraries and the generosity of my friends at this point, I am able to keep up on the news. I've tuned my clock radio to a lovely little NPR station, and I know exactly when my favourite two alternative Pittsburgh newsweeklies hit the stands (City Paper comes out Wednesday afternoons and Pulp is out Thursday afternoons).

All of you media savvy types out there are aware that the United States, or in actuality, the 20-30 stupid fat white boys who run the United States started the war on Iraq last Wednesday at 8:00PM (EST). I wasn't a bit shocked or surprised - to me, it was "the stupid thing that was bound to happen that finally did happen."

The day that Pulp came out, the cover was adorned with a poster that had been cropping up around the city for the past week: the "Pittsburghers for peace" campaign. This colourful sign features a dove, along with the phrase, "Pittsburghers for peace! NO WAR!" I looked at the cover, and the accompanying text inside the newsweekly; "like our cover this week? Put it up in your window!" All I could think was that the timing was all too perfect, but for whom would yet to be seen. Despite all the protests and public dissent, or perhaps because of it, the war was in full swing.

Also in full swing was the greasy taste of deep-fried American political arrogance. Last weekend, when I went out to a bar with friends, someone had brought in a container of French fries and was referring to them as "freedom fries." At the time, I had brushed it off as a poorly executed joke, the set-up being a reference to sauerkraut becoming "liberty cabbage" during WWI and the punch line being that Dubya was going to crush the French because they were obviously on the side of the terrorists for opposing military action against Iraq. In any case, the historical irony didn't gel correctly.

It wasn't until I read an article in City Paper that I found out that not only had cafeterias in certain Washington DC government buildings changed the name of French fries to "freedom fries" or "USA fries" but that a handful of eateries in Pittsburgh had followed suit. The claim was that this was a show of support for the good ol' U S of A. I found it to be a heaping pile of schlock.

At best, the name changes are silly. At worst, the name changes are the product of nationalism run amok. I find myself almost compelled to go to these eateries and punctuate my order: "I'll have a cheeseburger with a side of French fries." Once the argument began, I'll swiftly point out that freedom is not inherit to the name attached to my sliced, greased and salted potatoes, but that it is a concept which allows me to call said potatoes whatever the hell I want to and to opt not to eat at restaurants owned and operated by bigots.

Not that I personally have to worry about eating out anytime soon. Dubya's little wars are sure to drive the economy even further into the dirt than it is already. I've had one temp assignment since I moved to Pittsburgh. I have a second that is supposed to start either today or tomorrow (most likely the later, since the company has yet to reply to voice mails left by the temp agency). This upcoming assignment pays less than my last assignment, which means that I'll have to be at it longer if I'm to balance my personal budget in the coming months, never mind upgrading my apartment so that I have internet access through my own computer. Meanwhile, the mass transit system of Pittsburgh may be facing more service cuts and price increases due to cuts in their budget at the state level. It's enough to make one sick.

I once heard a rumour that bombs have a shelf life of ten years. Is this why it feels like 1990 again?