Ten years ago this week, a campaign of terror began in which over 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus were slaughtered by Hutu extremists, mostly armed with machetes, garden hoes, and spiked clubs. Thousands of women were raped; many of them now live with AIDS. Thousands of children were orphaned. In the terrible slaughter that followed, spurred by hate propaganda broadcast by the French-backed Hutu government, it is estimated that about 8,000 people were killed every single day of the rampage.

Also, some white dude offed himself.

Guess which event is memorialized on the covers of dozens of glossy magazines all over the newsstand? And guess which one is being described as the unique event of suffering that defined a generation of American youth?

If I have to listen to one more self-important 20-something journalist waxing nostalgic about his teenage ennui and how Kurt spoke to it, I am going to go out into the street and start systematically knocking people’s hats off.