FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2001 — It seemed the world was truly coming to an end when, a few weeks back, the Globe stopped running those punny little headline things ("Rain of Terror") with its forecasts and simply wrote: "The Weather." Bleak stuff.

Since then, however, things have been looking up.

In Saturday’s Globe, we learned that Northern Alliance troops had taken the "key Afghan city" of Mazar-e-Sharif, home of the strategic Bagram airport and the Omar Sharif Memorial Museum. Amid the hoopla surrounding this coup, reports that "Bin Laden Claims He Has Nuclear, Chemical Weapons" paled into insignificance. After all, we learned, bin Lah-de-dah was only hoarding weapons of mass destruction as a "deterrent." Phew.

Things took a bit of a downturn on Sunday as the Herald advised us that "America Promises to Be a Hard Sell to Many Muslims." All the same, the plucky Charlotte Beers, the nation’s new PR chief, burbled that the US is "the most elegant brand I’ve ever had to work with." Beers, who plied her wares on Madison Avenue before becoming a key Washington figure, went on to describe President Bush and Secretary of State Colin Powell as — we kid you not — "inspiring symbols of the brand."

In the Globe on Sunday, we had the Poster-Boy-in-Chief looking very cross indeed as he addressed the United Nations. Pity the UN — no sooner has Osama labeled the organization a citadel of evil than Bush™ is up there pounding the podium and barking that "more is expected" from its members in fighting the War on Terror. After the speech, Madagascar pledged to deploy 5000 particularly ferocious lemurs to Afghanistan.

While the American public thrills to tales of the Evil One plotting away in his Cave of Doom, the decidedly less enthralling monetary aspect of the current crisis dominated Monday’s news. "Dire $traits" shrieked Monday’s Herald, referring to State House discussions of budget cuts to the tune of $700 million. Concern about the situation abated when it was revealed that shortfalls could be made up by cutting the Big Dig’s coffee-and-Danish budget in half.

The papers were forced to downplay their coverage of Harry Potter on Tuesday when terror from the sky hit New York City again. "NY Jet Crash Kills 265, Rekindles Fear," reported the Globe. The flight, en route to the Dominican Republic, was in the air for a mere three minutes before it thundered into the Rockaway section of Queens, a blue-collar neighborhood that is home to many firefighters and police officers, and one that lost an inordinate number of its residents on September 11. Although investigators clamored to announce that the crash was likely an accident, a whole country could be heard muttering, "Not again."

On Wednesday, the nation’s mood picked up once more (mass manic-depression — a first?) when, as the Globe reported, "Alliance Controls Afghan Capital." Yes indeed, those upstanding Northern Alliance boys had sauntered into Kabul with nary a shot fired. The photo that accompanied the Globe story depicted a gleeful crowd ushering the troops into town. A few palm fronds and a chorus of "Hosanna" and it could have been a scene from Jesus Christ Superstar. There were widespread reports of music playing, kites flying, soccer games being played, and barefaced women walking the capital city’s streets. Oh, and a little looting and lynching here and there.

"On the Run" blared the Herald’s front page on Thursday. In the face of Northern Alliance advances, the Taliban was said to be retreating faster than Andre Agassi’s hairline. And all this with barely a single GI’s boot getting besmeared by the Afghan soil. War is hell? Not when you get someone else to fight it for you. Also, at the top of the page, we learned that the Massport brass was out of town on a junket to Montreal when September 11 broke loose. Surprise, surprise.

Friday’s Globe gave us tales of US Special Forces troops roaming the Afghan countryside looking to roust the Evil One from his Lair of Cruelty. Even though Al Qaeda’s top dog had possibly already fled to neighboring Pakistan (or beyond), it was nonetheless a rousing sight. And then, in a teensy-weensy item at the bottom of the page: "No. 6 for Clemens: the Yankee Ace Wins a Record Sixth Cy Young Award As the League’s Top Pitcher."

Now that’s depressing.

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