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Tuesday, November 30, 2004


The Passion of the Ken

I’m sorry. I’m having a tough time writing right now. I…I can’t seem to make heads or tails of the world at the moment. I feel like I’ve had the rug pulled out from under me. Ken Jennings lost on Jeopardy. He lost. I don’t know if I can go on with life.

Nothing’s making sense anymore. Bush winning reelection, my goldfish dying, the news that I had ass herpes; all of these things I could live with. But…Ken? What the fuck?

I watched the whole thing. I watched as he missed two Double Jeopardy questions. Now, I wouldn’t have known the answers, but Ken? C’mon! And, and, and then, with only a $4,400 lead, he blew one of the easiest questions I’ve ever seen him get. I knew the answer. His opponent knew the answer. The semi-retarded kid who bags my groceries knew the answer.

But not Ken.

A long time ago, I lost my faith in a Judeo-Christian God. I decided that I found the notion of an all-powerful dude who gave a shit about people eating pork and who wasn’t Colonel Sanders just a bit ridiculous. I sought comfort in the more earth-bound signs that life isn’t without meaning, things like laughing children, the sunset along the Seine, marijuana. Then He came along.

He seemed to know everything. He smiled beatifically. He bore ill will toward no one. He came through every trial. He won more than two million dollars. He seemed like the one stable force in my ever-shifting life. But apparently I was a fool. Apparently he was a false god. This grinning Mormon who never wrote his name the same way twice.

I have no idea how I’ll go on. I don’t know if the sunrise will see me still walking on this Ken-forsaken earth. I don’t know anything anymore. I know only the bitter, bitter heartbreak of a Ken Jennings loss.

Damn you, Alex Trebec. Damn you to hell.

While driving in the midst of city chaos I heard the radio announcer let it slip that Jennings was supposed to lose tonight. I was horrified to see that there was no way I could make it home in time... unless I chose to become one of those people you cringe to see behind the wheel of a car. Let's just say I managed to see the last ten minutes. I was sad to see him go, but at least he was beaten by a woman. I take some solice in that.
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