Kevin Smith

The following are excerpts from my soon-to-be-published autobiographical memoirs: "Cashed: A White Boy's Guide To Livin' ÎN Sinnin.'"

Think globally, protest locally

War protestors (including the liberal Tucson media): please stop complaining about the impending war in Iraq and the global war on terrorism. We have to fight, or the fighting will come to us. This is why we are the greatest country in the world. If people anywhere else in the world want true equality, they should lead by example, and get off their West-hating butts like everyone else to work for a better tomorrow. If we can do it, so can they.

This is why bin Laden would rather lead a bloody barbaric revolt than a peaceful rebellion, like Gandhi. Peace takes too much work, character and heart. All bin Laden has is inherited money, a chip on his shoulder the size of Jupiter, and a small community of like-minded, faceless henchmen.

Protesting for peace is not evil and no innocents should have to consistently die for our cause; but why don't people protest the presence of possible al-Qaeda sleeper cells in their community? Or protest the fact that 19 people would collectively want to fly loaded passenger planes into civilian occupied skyscrapers instead of being in charge of their own spiritual affairs?

Eat at Kobe's

Let's be honest. Most sporting events today are not must-see TV. The true spirit of professional athletics has been severely diluted by the media and money. Nowhere is this more apparent than in pro-basketball.

Twelve years ago, no player wanted to win the game more than Larry Bird, Magic Johnson or Michael Jordan. They made you root for their team because you got the sense that, despite shoe contracts, fast-food endorsements and deodorant commercials, they had a genuine interest

in their team winning, because they were just regular guys with extraordinary abilities competing for respect and admiration.

Today, the NBA has become such a cash crop that young players act as if they are entitled to attention, money

and respect, instead of earning it like their previous generation. They strut on and off the court like untouchable Hollywood elite crybabies, instead of guys who can just play the game well.

Would you rather watch Allen Iverson's Sixers play Kobe Bryant's Lakers in the NBA Finals today or Jordan's Bulls play Patrick Ewing's Knicks in an Eastern Conference Final match-up 10 years ago? There is no contest, and most pro games today make me want to flip over to "ESPN Classic" because too many guys are playing for the cameras and not for themselves or their team.

What I want to see is hard-knuckled aggressive battles for respect and hometown bragging rights, and that's it. This goes almost double for baseball players who complain about their paychecks and hold collective temper-tantrums in the form of strikes.

Sports are entertainment ÷ nothing else, and if players fail to entertain, then interest is lost, the money stops, and the show is over.

ÎTalking 'bout my...'

Generation X is old now. Our generation didn't come of age in the '90s to grunge and gangster rap. We're coming of age now, so be aware of whose opinions you're listening to because ageing hipsters are increasing in population.

Example: I went and saw Gen-Xers Korn at the Tucson Convention Center a few weeks ago and lead singer Jonathan Davis looked like an old fat lady in a dress. Somebody backstage told me he kept visiting a well-hidden oxygen tank because he couldn't breathe.

The band charged $35 for a general admission ticket, slept through their set for just over an hour, and then exited the stage. Lucky thing I didn't have to pay for the ticket; but if I had, there might have been a lynch mob chasing these marginally talented millionaires back to their five tour buses.

Later that week I went and saw The Strokes, whose members are pretty much around my age, in Mesa for $23. They played a near-flawless, boundless energy-driven set that lasted just over an hour (mainly because their songs are short as hell and total in at about 15) despite the fact that they looked more hung over than a freshman pledge after bid night. The show made me forget all about that damn Korn show · almost.