THE ALAMO OPENS APRIL 9 THERE'S BAD TIMING, and there's bad timing. ...

> OPENS APRIL 9

THERE'S BAD TIMING, and there's bad timing. The release of The Alamo in today's geo-political climate is what I'd call "bad timing" of the second, more severe sort.

The Alamo must have been conceived in the aftermath of 9/11, the idea being that a brutal, heroic defeat at the hands of dark-skinned men with moustaches will be followed by a massive, glorious triumph of the American imperial war machine. As the project moved from the cigar-smoke-filled studio conference rooms to pre-production, the omens were even better: America had just pimp-slapped the over-hyped warriors of Afghanistan and had the entire world squirting for mercy. Then as cast and crew were assembled and the studio finally began shooting early last year, the American war machine was just tearing through an army of dark-skinned, moustached men, stealing that nation's valuable resources and committing it to becoming the 51st state, with other nearby states set to be felled in the near future.

In other words, by this time last year, it looked like 1836-1848 all over again.

Then a funny little thing happened. Today's dark-skinned moustached men aren't playing by the rules that yesteryear's dark-skinned moustached men played by.

As the release of The Alamo nears, the executives behind it must be screaming, "Why the hell can't the Iraqis behave more like Mexicans! I want the Iraqis fired! Get them off my set, now!"

"But sir, they?we didn't!"

"You! You're fired! You're all fired! Everyone's fired! I'm fired! Ahhhhhhh!"

The preview intersperses scenes of doomed, sweaty Americans fighting to the last against greasy, moustached Mexican oppressors in uniforms. The voiceover tells the audience, "The Alamo?one of the most unforgettable events in history?becomes the motion picture event of the year." Then a guy who's killing some Mexicans screams a high-pitched scream, a scream that sounds a lot like Howard Dean's.

These are not good omens at all.

On April 9, instead of a movie designed to bring Americans together to celebrate both the tragedy and the pre-ordained imperial ass-whipping that 9/11 promised, we have a movie that reminds us how far we have sunk, how poseur-imperial we are compared to our greater, more savage ancestors. Most of all, we have a movie that reminds everyone of the most obvious, painful truth: Texas is the worst thing to ever happen to America.