FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 2001 — Our papers were dominated on Saturday by dispatches from the retail front of the War on Terror. There is, the Herald informed us, a "Patriotic Flavor to Shopping Season" this year. GI Joes, apparently, are hot-hot-hot commodities in the nation’s R Us stores. At the risk of sounding unpatriotic: considering who’s been doing the bulk of the fighting over in Afghanistan, shouldn’t Mujahideen Mohammeds get a look-in, too? ("Now with removable loyalties!") Not to be outdone, the Globe reported that shoppers were crawling over area malls like Taliban prisoners on a munitions store. "We all have to get back to normal," chirped one shopper as she staggered under the weight of her patriotic duty.

Sunday’s papers reminded us that terrorism doesn’t always come with a bushy beard and a black robe. While the feared Taliban filed meekly out of the "stronghold" of Kunduz, a bunch of peach-faced teens in New Bedford had reportedly been drawing up plans for a killing spree of such dreadful proportions that old Osama himself would have gotten goosey with pride. "Diabolical Plot," thundered the Herald, referring to an alleged scheme by junior Eric McKeehan, 17, and a couple of henchkids. The plan — which involved bombs, guns, and trench coats — would have been, according to a police officer quoted in the Globe, "bigger than Columbine." Kids.

On Monday, as US Marines milled around the suburbs of Kandahar and Taliban militants ran rampant over their Northern Alliance captors, the specter of cloning once again reared its ugly head (heads?). "First Clone Made of Human Embryo," reported the Globe, adding, "Critics Decry Work at Worcester Lab." A White House spokesperson, meanwhile, fulminated, "The president has made it clear that he is 100 percent opposed to any type of cloning of human embryos." Reports that a small number of Special Ops troops had landed in Worcester could not be confirmed.

So-called friendly fire made the news on Tuesday, calling to mind the halcyon days of the Gulf War. "Errant Blast Hurts 5 Americans Battling Prison Revolt," reported the Globe, although the word "hurt" hardly does justice to the many ways a not-so-smart bomb can ruin a person’s day. As reports that Northern Alliance troops were mistreating Taliban prisoners continued to pour out of Afghanistan, the Massachusetts state legislature committed a minor atrocity of its own by hacking away at social programs in its 2002 budget while pumping up the legislature’s already tidy expense-account allotment to the tune of $720,000. Does the Constitution actually say anything about three-martini lunches?

Wednesday’s Herald gave us a full-color, half-page shot of a shackled Dr. Richard Sharpe being led from the Lawrence Superior Court after a jury found that the GBGD ("gender-bending Gloucester dermatologist") was quite sane when he shot his wife, Karen Sharpe, last year. Never mind sane, is this man human? Warped and wobbly, with long flowing locks and plasticky skin, he looks like a fresh-out-of-the-microwave Barbie doll. Still, nice to get away from the War on Terror for a while.

A photo in Thursday’s Herald depicting a Northern Alliance troop kicking a dead Taliban soldier was vastly overshadowed by the elephantine headline: "Batter Up!" It seems the territorial haggling of the various Afghan tribes cannot hold an anti-tank missile to the Borgian dealings of the "bevy of business magnates battling to buy control of the Boston Red Sox." Elsewhere, the exuberantly alliterative reporter wrote of "binding bids" and a "blizzard of brass" scrambling to pony up the $300–to–$400 million asking price for Boston’s perennial underachievers. One gets the sense that war reporters could learn a thing or two from the tone of this report: "B-52 bombs blast bunkers, badass Taliban bands blow town ..."

Friday’s Globe gave us the sorry sight of House Speaker Tom Finneran pointing at a chart in an attempt to bolster support for his buddy-boosting budget. "At this point, I suppose, I’m supposed to sort of look at my shoes, shuffle my feet, start out stammering, and come up with a lame explanation," Finneran told reporters. Well, you said it, Tom. Beside this report was the truly sad news that "Ex-Beatle Harrison Dies at 58." George, the lead guitarist for the Fab Four (now the Terrific Twosome), finally succumbed to the cancer with which he was diagnosed in 1998. There goes the sun.

Rampant consumerism, murderous schoolkids, scandalous trials, Red Sox wrangles, political cronyism, and dead celebs — welcome to Normal.