Elections, elections, elections everywhere, and dear old George W. wasn’t the only one in on the fun. We got ourselves a brand new A.S. Council, while San Diego re-elected Mayor Dick Murphy (sort of), saw him resign five months later, and is now gearing up for round two. The U.S. Senate got itself a brand new batch of kooks, plus one totally awesome Barack Obama. The Palestinian Authority got itself a brand new non-kaffiyeh-wearing president and a new shot at relevancy. The Iraqis got their first democratic vote. Britons talked a lot about how much they hated Tony Blair but only dealt him a weak smack-down at the ballot box, returning the Labour Party to office with 37 percent of the vote, 5 percent less than in the last elections. In the wake of the February assassination of former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri, it seems like whenever the Lebanese aren’t voting, they’re protesting. There were probably more, but I just couldn’t bring myself to read one more article about elections. And by the time next year’s A.S. Council elections roll around, I’ll probably still be finding more of those glossy cards with the names of the parties in my backpack.
— Hanna Camp
Associate Opinion Editor
Another boring UCSD year has come and gone, endearingly consistent in its lack of anything worth talking about. There were, however, moments of relief here and there: The elections were ignored as usual, yet spiced up with the typical nasty politics and, to top it off, a giant alligator. Awesome. Somebody had sex and filmed it, which we all claimed was news because it was on TV, but it was probably due to the excitement caused by any sex at all at UCSD. Of course, others also took this opportunity to somehow connect the Student-Run Television porn to “white male entitlement,” inspiring us all to new heights of oversensitivity and irrationality. I suppose that we should start behaving as if society was obligated to make us feel comfortable in every conceivable manner, starting with obliterating every Abercrombie & Fitch ad and Spongebob image in sight, but for some reason I don’t think I would be listened to as patiently. And of course, George W. Bush got re-elected, sparking a day of grief and confusion as to why the rest of the country isn’t as intelligent as us college students. Ah, Steve York and George W. Bush; the two of them have humbled us this year.
— Robin Averbeck
Senior Staff Writer
On Nov. 12, 2004, Scott Peterson was convicted of the first-degree murder of his wife, Laci, and second-degree murder of their unborn child, Connor. The murder case quickly evolved into a high-profile mystery show presented by the media and, like many other melancholy criminal cases, became a sensationalized storyline for Americans to follow (referring to the actual media surveillance of the trial, not the despicable CBS movie “Amber Frey: Witness for the Prosecution”). Despite the fact that the general public practically knew Scott Peterson’s fate, along with his entire life story and psychological background, they all caved into the exploitation of Laci Peterson’s death that was at times blatantly plugged for financial objectives, such as the above-mentioned movie, the books published by Scott Peterson’s sister and Frey, and the constant reporting by media outlets. Focus on the actual evidence of the trial was shunted aside to “tabloidize” the heinous affair — excuse the pun. Although events like this arise every so often for public speculation, the Scott Peterson trial marked a new variation of a high-profile case turned soap opera: one where the “other woman” is made a hero. And, like many other male protagonists of television dramas, Scott Peterson received plenty of fan mail from American women, completing the formula for a good melodramatic series.
— Sarah Ban
Contributing Writer
