$9,372,678,366,144.85

so i'm watching who wants to be a millionaire? last night (yeah, but if you tivo 'em you can zip past all the filler and do a week's worth of shows in about 20 minutes), and lo and behold, someone actually makes it to the $250,000 level. since this is rare as all get-out, i sit up expectantly and await the question, which turns out to be:

In order to pay off the current national debt, each US resident would have to contribute about how much?

(a) $3,000
(b) $30,000
(c) $300,000
(d) $3,000,000

the contestant doesn't even try to puzzle it out; her lifelines depleted and a hundred grand safely in her pocket, she gives up her quest for a million, to much applause.

and me? i'm sitting there, stunned--first, because the question was so goddam easy (i mean, given those answers and that there are three hundred million americans more or less, anybody smart enough to make it to the quarter-million-dollar level in this game should have been able to figure it out; hell, i did it on my fingers).

but what really got to me more was the reaction--or, rather, complete lack of reaction--of the host, contestant and audience when the correct answer was revealed; it was as if the question and its answer had no more meaning to them than had it been about the gross national product of ghana or something equally obscure.

it fucking kills me sometimes--nobody seems to care that our leaders have so arrogantly and cavalierly spent us into sufficient debt that it amounts to thirty thousand dollars for every man, woman and child in this country. republicans don't care, democrats don't care, and, obviously, neither do the people anymore.

oh, well--next contestant, please.

update: apparently, this indifference extends to my readers.