THE GRIEF PROCESS: BOASTS, CURSES & A SHITTY POP STAR

The Boston Marathon Massacre?

Well, we're now used to the grief process. It's been in place since 9/11. Here's how you handle it. You boast. You curse. You have pop songs.

The BOAST. "You can't keep us down! We're still here! You did your best and it sucked!!"

Obama instantly stated the predictable after the Boston bombing: "We will get through this," he said. And sure enough. We did. What a leader. The sun still rises and sets.

Next? The CURSES and the MUSIC!

As soon as the dust settled after 9/11, there was a big concert. Between Jagger and Paul Simon and McCartney, some Irish firefighter stood up and shouted "Bin Laden you can kiss my Irish ass!" The crowd laughed and cheered.

This time? As soon as the perps were caught, Fenway Park was re-opened so baseball could be played again, and pop star Neil Diamond could sing. David "POPI" Ortiz, a steroid-headed Boston baseball player, supplied the memorable cursing this time: "This is our fucking city!"

Very brave. He said it after the perps were captured and it was time to return to scheduled baseball games and shopping at the malls and the rest of it.

But for his dumbass and coarse remark, he was praised as a hero.

Rah rah! Hope that 19 year-old bomber kid heard what POPI said!

POPI said, "This is our FUCKING city!"

Nevermind that four people are dead, two of them innocent women, one of them an 8 year-old. Nevermind that there's a woman, a hairdresser, who will never be able to stand and do her customers' hair like she used to. Nevermind two brothers who each lost legs. Nevermind a guy who lost both his legs moments after watching a jerk set a backpack at his feet and walk away. Nevermind dozens of others with cuts, bruises, wounds and scars. POPI said "This is our fucking city" very bravely after the perps were caught.

Lastly, the healing process HAS to have some fucking pop star asshole sing a song

In this case? Neil Diamond.

The song? "Sweet Caroline."

Don't try to figure it out. Boston may have been the scene of great and patriotic and history-making events hundreds of years ago, but it's been nothing more than a dinky college town for a century, loaded up with not-too-smart working class assholes and overly-smart college punks. And somehow, "Sweet Caroline" is an important song in Boston. (Look, Neil DIamond is important all over the world, so we can't really make that much fun of Boston for choosing ONE of his shitty songs to love so damn much).

A terrible event (either a natural disaster caused by climate change, or jihad caused by religious fanatic assholes pussy-allowed to "hijack a fine religion" by Muslim-fearing wussies) should lead to some kind of action. Real action. Like better preparation for floods, more serious consideration of climate change, and in cases of terrorism, gun control, restricted immigration, better security, some kind of refuting speech from Muslim leaders, some kind of action from the United Nations...).

INSTEAD...we have become so used to terrible events, we enjoy 'em!

Yes, we do. We enjoy tracking down the perps. We enjoy the rescue stories involving assholes who know they live in danger zones and build and RE-BUILD rather than move. we find some kind of exhileration in all the "feel good" moments where we can mourn, light candles, hear rock stars sing, and grin with delight when some schmuck in no danger at all says "kiss my ass" or "this is our fucking city."

Disgusted. Amused? How about scared...that people enjoy lighting candles and feel so good about themselves for raising money for legless victims, and so happy about a cursing ball player and so delighted because of the world's most mediocre pop songs sang one of the world's shittiest pop songs?

The grief process is one that we've become so accustomed to, it's almost like many rush to participate. Oooh ooh, can I get a candle? Can I go over to the funeral home and get in line and pay my respects? Ah, here I am writing out my check to the "fund" for one of the now-crippled victims...when the government should be providing the money AND making sure that everyone has some kind of insurance against a hideous event such as this. And let's thank David POPI Ortiz and Neil Fucking Diamond for taking the time out of their busy schedules and being SUCH inspirational figures for us.

What next?

Oh, let's be optimistic.

Something far more horrible than the Boston Marathon Massacre will happen eventually...but we won't care that much because "we'll get through it," and there will surely be candles to light, and checks to write, and all the rest of it.

And, hey, England, if there's a really really major disaster, you'll get David Beckham cursing and Adele singing!