9/11 has won American Idol. 9/11 is the second coming of Elvis, and the 9/11 is the delicious End of The World.

In other words, 9/11 is a drag queen standing on the dark off-ramp, and his fiery pose mutates into something completely new every few seconds. The politicians all line up for a chance to make a media bite with him, but he gets away and cuts a new swath of amazing death. He is the Bimbo of Horror.

It’s really unbelievable how much we love 9/11 – It’s gone on so long. It’s been six years ago now – but it’s obvious that 9/11 is not satisfied with our slavishness. There is a fervent American hope that 9/11 will happen again, reappear, turn all our heads at once, we’ll shout the Allelujah Chorus of pissing-in-our-pants fear. When a water main blows up a New York Street, or a Minneapolis bridge comes down – we rush forward with our bouquet of flowers, our love ballad, our hours and hours of coverage. Ray Kelley from the New York Police Department tosses and turns, dreaming that the explosive super-star will return to The Apple on his watch. 9/11 – what a woman!