This site will return on Wednesday, September 17. See the post below. But for now, I leave you with this:

Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.

I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.

Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.

I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.

And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.

Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.

Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.

Just in case you didn't endure enough crappy, false commentary yesterday:

A great hush falls over lower Manhattan tonight. The ground is wrapped in wreaths and a thin film of grief as all New York, and, by extension, the world, remembers what it was like that terrible day...

It was 5:30 PM CST when I had my fill. The NBC Nightly News came on, and Tom Brokaw intoned, "A day of sounds." Cut to sounds, like bells and a flag flapping and bagpipes playing. "And a day of silence." I yelled "callete, puta!" and switched to Sportscenter until it started one of its goddamn interminable "baseball remembers" segments.

Hang on. This is sounding like a regular blog. No. I don't watch TV, because I am the Greatest Living American Writer and simply can't be bothered by the puerile machinations of popular entertainment. Is that better?

Meanwhile, real journalism goes on. Read this extraordinary piece from the Philadelphia Daily News and ask yourself the same questions. I have one question to add to the mix.

Q: Why are we holding 660 foreign nationals in prison at Guantanamo Bay indefinitely, and without charges?

A: The answer, which you can see in the link above, is because our government considers these prisoners "terrorists" and not run-of-the-mill POWs. Donald Rumsfeld says that if they're in jail, they're not going to be "out on the streets killing people." These men will be in jail until the end of the War On Terror, Rumsfeld says, which means that they will be held until the end of time, or until they commit suicide.The fact that the detention camp seems to violate all known international law doesn't matter to the Bush Administration.

A great hush falls over lower Manhattan tonight.

Cheer up, friends! The world's not all bad! Why not volunteer to be part of something positive, the Neal Pollack Invasion Street Team? My upcoming tour starts on September 28, with two fabulous live shows at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema in downtown Austin, and concludes on October 24 in New York City. Help paint your town with the colors of The Neal Pollack Invasion. It'll be the best thing you've ever done.

This is the last post until Wednesday, September 17. I'm travelling around the country performing sexual favors on book critics and newspaper entertainment-section editors in anticipation of the September 30 publication date of Never Mind The Pollacks, sure to be the novel of the year.

Don't let the fascists get you down. I'll be back soon with more red-hot all-American vaguely political extremely self-promotional Internet blog action!

On this, the second anniversary of the most tragic day in American history, as our soldiers continue to die in Iraq and the creepy visage of Osama bin Laden taunts us again, it's important to recognize that the Bush Administration is doing everything it can to keep us safe by restarting a program to prohibit innocent people from flying on commerical airlines based on a computer-generated "risk" list.

Yes, that's right. CAPPS II, the program you sort of heard about this spring and early summer when it received a modest amount of scrutiny in Congress, is underway. This week, in conjunction with a creepy computerized reservations company called Galileo, Delta Airlines became the testing ground for an almost unthinkable violation of our civil rights.

Details can be found here, but to summarize, if you book a ticket through Galileo, the company will send your information to the federal government, which will then open up a file on you, run a criminal background check, and determine, based on whatever information you've accumulated, if you're a "threat." They will then assign you a threat color for when you get to the airport. If you're "Green," then you'll pass through security as normal. "Yellows" will undergo additional background checks. "Reds" will never be allowed to fly again.

The government isn't legally obligated to tell you how you've been classified or why. The Transportation Security Administration doesn't even require that any of the private databases they use to "screen" people contain accurate information, just as the Justice Department has exempted their warrant database from being accurate.

I'm going to quote from this excellent website, Don't Spy On Us: "CAPPS II is nothing less than a Soviet-style system of internal border controls. An incredible invasion of privacy, the system is un-American and un-Constitutional." Amen to that. If you're as angry about this as I am, go here to take constructive action.

I don't even have the energy to make a joke about what color code the bin Laden and the Saudi royal families would have been assigned if this system had been in place two years ago. The hypocrisy of the War On Terror never ceases to astound me. The mastermind of the World Trade Center bombing roams free and disseminates his hate propaganda at will, while regular Americans are left to wonder if they're going to be arrested for the crime of purchasing a ticket to San Diego.

Happy September 11, everyone.

This fucking government. I swear.

There were many highlights in last night's Democratic primary debate. Joseph Lieberman said Howard Dean hates the Jews. Howard Dean said he doesn't hate the Jews. Dennis Kuchinich advocated an end to capitalism and complete military withdrawl from the Middle East. Lieberman advocated, somewhat insanely, a stepped-up military involvement in the Middle East. Several protesters who appeared to be Lyndon LaRouche supporters interrupted the debate, at well-spaced intervals, which made Lieberman huff and puff and caused Al Sharpton to preach with righteous and amusing fury. And everyone agreed that George W. Bush is a terrible President who really must be stopped.

But the evening's highlight, for me at least, came when panelist Farai Chideya asked the candidates to name their favorite song. The responses were almost unbelievably lame, except for Sharpton, who named James Brown's Talkin' Loud, Sayin' Nothing, and made some joke related to Bush. Also, I must give Dean a few points for naming an obscure Wyclef Jean song. Outkast would have been hipper, but Wyclef still qualifies, particularly when invoked by a Presidential candidate, and particularly when Dick Gephardt names "Born In The U.S.A" as his favorite song. So what's the point here? I have none, other than to list what I wish the candidates' answers had been. So here goes.

Carol-Moseley Braun: "My favorite song is 'Woman Is The Nigger Of The World.'" What? What? Why are you all gasping?

Al Sharpton: "'By The Time We Get To Phoenix,'" By the time George Bush gets to Phoenix, he's gonna need a compass to find his way back to Washington, D.C., but we aren't gonna let him, because this President is going to get lost!"

John Edwards: "I really like "TV Eye," by The Stooges, and George W. Bush, I have got a TV Eye on you. I've got a TV Eye!"

Howard Dean: "Well, I used to be into Interpol, but I think they totally sold out. Now I'm into this band from Boston called The Information and also Stellastarr*. I can't help it. They're just so pretty."

Joseph Lieberman: "That's easy. The Battle Hymn Of The Republic. And also Yesterday. It feels like it was yesterday that Al Gore and I were robbed of the Presidency in Florida, and that's why black people have to understand that I'm their friend, because I know what it's like to face unfair balloting practices! Also, I like Hava Nagila, but Howard Dean doesn't."

Dennis Kuchinich: "Rage Against The Machine really got it right in The Battle Of Los Angeles."

John Kerry: "I have many favorite songs and the list is so nuanced that you couldn't possibly understand what I'm trying to say."

Bob Graham: "Well, life in George W. Bush's America is like searching for that lost shaker of salt. Some people claim that there's a woman to blame, but I know that it's his own damn fault. My favorite song is Margaritaville."

Richard Gephardt: "My favorite song is whatever will make me appear simultaneously angry at the Administration but also steadfast and patriotic. Barring that, I'm really into Moby."

And so we come to the end of another blogging day. Please sign up to be part of the Neal Pollack Street Team experience, if that's your inclination.

As we approach September 11, that most terrible of anniversaries, it’s time for me to engage in my annual tradition of writing a sappy, over-generalized essay about how we’ve changed as a nation. After those unspeakable events in New York City, it was up to writers to help us understand what had happened, and how, and why. Two years later, as our collective memory fades into the memory of the collective, that’s still the case.

For some reason, the Times and New York magazine ignored my story pitches. The Observer nuked me and Salon had several other pieces backed up. The editor of one website did email me, but he wanted me to write 7,000 words for no pay. I told him I was busy, even though I wasn’t. So instead, I’ll just slap down my thoughts here and go to bed.

Even now, as CNN runs the footage of buildings collapsing, people screaming and weeping, and Paula Zahn commenting on what it was like to cover the collapsing buildings and screaming people, the events of September 11, 2001 seem like a distant dream. Who would have thought that such a horrible day would have led to such an excellent, albeit expensive war, a just war without end? To some extent, I did. In this space, on September 13, 2001, I wrote, “Whether Iraq had anything to do with these cowardly attacks or not, we should invade that country and depose Saddam Hussein, even if the rest of the world is against us. And now, I really need a hug.”

On that day, I never thought that two years later I’d have to choose between flying on domestic airlines or having my solid-steel penile implant removed. I never thought I’d purchase an Iraqi war bride who would then be taken to Guantanamo, accused of terrorist plotting, only to see her fall in love with a doctor there. It’s been a hell of a couple of years, and I’m still broke.

Our national psyche is troubled. The other day I heard someone on Fox News quote someone who was quoting someone whose kid is still having nightmares about planes crashing into the World Trade Center. “Mommy,” said the anchor who was friends with the mother of the friend of the kid, “When is President Bush going to make us safe again?” It’s an important question to ask in these times. We must remain resolute. We must never weaken. We must kick ass and not cry except for in the deepest privacy of the most remote rooms in our homes. Any sign of weakness, and the terrorists could have us.

Donald Rumsfeld was right yesterday when he said that anyone who criticizes the administration is giving comfort to the terrorists. If we learned anything from September 11, it’s that dissent cannot be tolerated in a free society. If we resolutely fall in unquestioning lockstep behind our leader and approach this crisis like serious Christians and Jews, then we can beat back this tide of autocratic religious fundamentalism that threatens to engulf us all.

Yes, we’ve changed a lot as a people these last two years. Our hemlines are shorter and our gas lines longer. We’ve found comfort in food, nourishment in comfort, and we’ve all lost our jobs. But through it all, we haven’t forgotten. And we will never forget. In that spirit, I re-present the lyrics to my song “Never Forget,” which I recently performed during a round-one WNBA playoff game between the Miami Mood Swings and the Cleveland Chocolate Addiction. Read the lyrics and understand. Also don’t forget, if you haven’t already, to sign up for Neal Pollack Street Team duty. After this sentimental anniversary stuff is over, a man’s got to sell his novel and rock album. You can help. And now, “Never Forget.”

People in the streets saying peace on earth
Doctors not allowin' teenage moms to give birth
We face our evil enemies in foreign countries and at home
Cause we're the biggest empire since Greece or maybe Rome
So don't let all those hippies and those moms against the war
Make you forget the differences between after and before.

Never forget that we're under attack
George Bush will die for all our sins
And now we've got his back
Never forget the charred rubble and the screams
All the fallen martyrs and their half-forgotten dreams
Osama bin Laden sure as hell ain't won this war yet.
Never forget.

There were bloody corpses strewn all over Chambers Street
Our noble sons and daughters were reduced to luncheon meat
They won't let us see the images, they think we'll be afraid
But now the bill's come overdue and man, it must be paid.
The French and German pansies can't reign in the dogs of war
Our bombs are ten times bigger than they've ever been before.

Never forget that we're under attack
George Bush will die for all our sins
And we know he's got our back
Never forget that evil people are afoot
Like the ones who covered us with all that awful soot.
Osama bin Laden sure as hell ain't won this war yet.
Never forget.

Now I've been there with the soldiers
Who are just there followin' orders.
And I wished I were at Starbucks
Or, in a pinch, at Borders.

Well, get ready, mother-raper cause we're gonna attack
You're going into exile
And you're never coming back
The children that you murdered
Could rise from their mass grave yet
Never forget.

Never forget that we're under attack
George Bush will die for all our sins
And now we've got his back
Never forget the charred rubble and the screams
All the fallen martyrs and their half-forgotten dreams
If you oppose this war, you're Saddam's accidental pet.
Never forget.

Ignore the opinions of many on the left, on the right, in the center, and in Europe. President Bush's speech last night was a brilliant act of moral leadership in a troubled time. We cannot allow the hate-America crowd to establish a foothold in the valley of the uneducated. That's why the 15 minutes that shook the world were so important. If nothing else, Bush created a climate of mild, creeping, desperate fear that will buy us a few more months.

With precision and decency but without giving any specifics, the President spelled out why we must continue to fight the war in Iraq. Freedom, which combined with healthy chloroflourocarbons makes up 75 percent of the air we breathe, is in danger. We must stop these unnamed, unaffiliated terrorists from infiltrating Iraq and teaming up with Saddam Hussein and his 13 remaining loyalists. If we don't, they might figure out a way to attack Miami. We invaded a sovereign country without provocation and now are fighting a shapeless war with no definable end. Because of that, our resolve must remain strong and the other nations of the world must give us a lot of money because we don't have any more. As that unnamed captain said at the end of the speech, we're on the front lines of freedom, which is why we have to stop Islamic splinter groups from blowing stuff up halfway across the world, and also can we please have some money...

OK, so it wasn't such a great speech. It kind of repeated itself. But supporting the President is still really important. If you don't support him, then you're not sorry about September 11.

Let me talk for a second about this $87 billion that's got everybody all tizzified. Eighty-seven billion dollars could guarantee every school-age child in America a decent education or give every one of our unemployed a reasonable level of benefits for the year or go toward insuring one of the 45 million or so American without health care. To the uninformed, it may seem as though we're pouring every remaining dime we have into a solutionless pit to please the whims of a few crazy ideologues and greedy businessmen. But then the uniformed don't know history. I believe it was Heraclitus who said of Agamemmnon after the battle of Cyprus, "a great leader cannot let tyranny stand when faced with tyrants or people who might become tyrants."

Exactly. We stand at a magnificent crossroads of destiny and it's our job to define that crossroads and act however we want. If we're wrong, so what? We won't be alive to deal with the consequences.

On a similar note, did anyone watch the 9-11 Showtime documentary starring Timothy Bottoms as President Bush? I taped it. The best moment had Bush standing on his Oval Office desk and saying, "I'm gonna rip those bastards apart myself with my teeth!" Then he wept sympathetically for the martyrs of freedom who died in the World Trade Center so we could make the globe safe for democracy. They're going to do a sequel in which President Bush faces his archenemy from another planet, the evil General Zod, who comes to earth with a hot chick and a fat bearded guy.

Finally, in case you missed it on Friday, I issued a late call for Neal Pollack "Street Teams" in my tour cities to help spread the word about my upcoming rock-n-roll invasion of the United States. The details are directly below, in the post that follows. Help me out, and do great work. My goals for this tour are threefold: 1. To stamp out the scourge of terrorism. 2. To provide writers an example of how they can take control of their artistic destiny and have fun in the process. 3. To drink beer at night and drive around in a van all day with a bunch of guys.

If you don't come to see my shows, you're allowing terrorism to spread and flourish. We cannot let that happen. That's why I'm asking Congress for $87 billion.

A few quick self-promotional notes, in case today's Spanish-language entry wasn't enough for you.

The Telegraph Company, the record label that has kindly agreed to release The Neal Pollack Invasion's first album, is looking for Neal Pollack Street Team volunteers in the cities to which I'm touring this fall. If you're interested, email me, and Telegraph will send you posters and stickers along with instructions as how to spread the gospel word of this most adventurous of all book tours. A complete list of tour cities is available to your right, in the Live column. Any help would be greately appreciated, and paid back with, well, something free. Sign up now to volunteer for The Neal Pollack Street Team!

Meanwhile, publication date for Never Mind The Pollacks is little more than three weeks away. Early reviews, the three that I've seen, have been very positive. Kirkus reviews called it "loud, messy, wild and fun--just like the best rock-n-roll," and Publishers Weekly said "Spinal Tap fans and groupies everywhere should love it." Did you hear that, groupies? If that's not enough, Amazon has named Never Mind The Pollacks number 28 (out of 29) books in its list of fall fiction picks. Soon, I predict, this book will be in the top 100,000 in sales, nationwide.

I also wanted to call your attention to Philadelphia's 215 Festival, which has turned into the country's pre-eminent annual showcase for the uneasy marriage between literature and rock-n-roll. This year's festival lineup includes Patti Smith, George Saunders, Toure, Jonathan Lethem, The Frogs, and, naturally, The Neal Pollack Invasion, as well as fantastic showcases of some of our best alternative presses and literary magazines, including Akashic Books, Pindeldyboz, Word Riot, and The Land-Grant College Review. It may not have Hilton Als in conversation with Wyclef Jean, whoo-hooo, like at The New Yorker Festival, but it costs a lot less and will be a lot more fun, meaning more focused on beer-drinking. In the end, what is literature but a great excuse to drink beer?

Ayer noche, los candidatos democraticos por la oficina de Presidente de los Estados Unidos tenian su primer debate. Fue el primer debate en nuestro historia conductada en dos lenguas. En el honor de este ocasion importante, estoy escribando mi blog hoy en espanol.

Por favor, disculpe mi gramatica horible. No tengo muchos oportunidades de usar espanol aqui in Tejas. Pienso que ustedes entienden.

De todos modos, vei el debate dos veces, un vez en velocidad normal, y un extra-lento para comprender los gestos secretos de los hombres y Senora Mosely-Braun. Despues cinco horas, puedo concluir que Howard Dean es el segunda venida de jesucristo en esta tierra, y que los otros candidatos necesitan dejar ahora o mas quemar en los fuegos del tiempo. Por supuesto solamente mi opinion.

Pienso que Joseph Lieberman fue muy fuerte quando el decia, "No tenemos bastante soldados en el oriente medio. Necesitamos por lo menos tres milion, y si los puercos vuelan y si ustedes me eligen presidente, prometo más de diez tiempos que muchos." El entonces mostró sus cuernos al reunió la multitud, que jadeó.

Pensé el debate realmente emocionaba bastante, especialmente durante el de concierto de debate pre, cuándo Dianne Fienstein Christina Aguilera besado de francés, y 50 Centavo Les llamaron John Edwards la P I M P del año. Ellos fingen para ser rivales, pero ellos son realmente en la misma etiqueta.

En general, pienso que esto será una serie excelente de doce debates, tan largo como Nueva York continúa tener las tormentas, con lo cual manteniendo Al Sharpton lejos. Hay algo acerca de que tipo que yo apenas no confío. I think, however, that if Richard Gephardt wants to have a chance, he needs ot mute his rhetoric. President Bush's foreign policy has been, perhaps, unfortunate, but it's not very professional to call it a "monstrous fuck-up of Herculean proportions."

Whoops! My time on that free translation program ran out. Well, I hope you've all enjoyed this Spanish-language edition of The Neal Pollack Invasion. If you have trouble reading this because you're a stupid gringo, run the text through a translation program and have hours of laughs. Next week, we'll do it in French. Oh! J'ai peur! J'ai peur!

At long last, and largely at my indirect urging, the Bush Administration has decided to actively pursue United Nations involvement in the occupation and reshaping-in-our-image of Iraq. Now, certain skeptics in the hate-America crowd will claim, in prose much clunkier than mine, that by seeking a Security Council resolution that would create a multinational force where L. Paul Bremer would still be in charge of Iraq and the U.S. military would play the "dominant" role, the Bush Administration will essentially be strong-arming weaker countries into sending soldiers into an unstable situation and forcing them to pony up money to pay for American mistakes. Hah, I say. Hah hah. I believe it was Mark Twain who wrote, "thems that gots the guns, calls the shots." The UN should either bow to our needs, or disband immediately.

In general, though, I think it might be wise for the spokespeople of this administration to avoid calling potential rich European allies "little countries," like State Department spokesman Richard Boucher did yesterday. He was responding to Luxembourg, France, Belgium and Germany's absurd plan to form a modest military alliance outside of NATO. Of course, only little countries would do such a thing. But why call them out? Really. As for Boucher's controversial comment that these countries were just "chocolate makers," well, I have to say that he's right. All four countries do manufacture chocolate. But then I went and read over the transcript of the press conference, held in French.

In fact, Boucher didn't refer to these countries as "chocolate makers." He called them "fudge packers." That, as you know, is a big difference. While I have no experience with Luxembourg, I know for a fact that the French like to pack the fudge, as do the Germans, and the Belgians are unspeakable. But to call them out on a perfectly legal sexual practice, especially on their own turf, is too much, even for me. Hey, Boucher, this year at Bohemian Grove? You and me, making chocolate.

Certain turncoat fellow bloggers are beginning to audaciously question the Bush Administration's resolve in the War On Terror. What? Just because rogue elements are staging major bombings at mosques and United Nations office buildings? Now you're backing down and claiming that the United States isn't doing the job? For god's sake, man! It's only been, what, five months? What have you ever done in five months? Name one thing.

OK. Name one other thing. See? It's not that easy.

From the beginning,when I bought the Defense Department's phony line about Iraq's ties to Al-Queda and Saddam Hussein's possession of world-ending nuclear weapons, I've claimed that this War On Terror is a just war without end. Do you really think that more than 150 military deaths, countless injuries, not to mention the methodical killing of 37,000-plus Iraqi civilians is going to change my point of view? Not hardly. It's going to take far more killing to even nudge me an inch. I believe it was Lord Palmerston who said, when he beheld the carnage at Waterloo, "well, at least we won, right?" That's exactly how I feel about Iraq.

Besides, Ahmad Chalabi, the choice of statesmen, is finally in charge, and he's not going to let some bombing at police headquarters get in his way. If you know anything about history, which I do, you'll understand that any reconstruction period after a revolution, or, in this case, unjustified invasion by a foreign empire, can be rough. Who better than a shifty scheming expatriate to flatten down the bumps? I predict, for the rest of the year, occasional bombings here and there, maybe 2,000 people dead, 3,000 tops. Then the glorious civilization that once flourished along the banks of the Tigris will spring up again, buttressed by $50-million bridges. American taxes, from which I'm sheltered by virtue of my British birth, couldn't go to pay for a more noble cause.

Oh, victory, where is thy sting? Oh, peace, where is thy victory? Oh, Sherrie, ahhh, ahhh. Hold on! Hold on!