Once upon a time three young and strong men who landed in beautiful landscapes. Anybody lived in it except some natives . Those peoples ate fruits and vegetables and hunted the buffalo.
The three fellows imported their knowledges, their european civilisation, and.... alcohol. Then, ten, one hundred, two thousand guys from Europe came and it was the beggining of the end... wars, illness and misery. In short, It was PANIC.
Three hundred years later, the three former men's bones were found by archeologists from Ohio. They revealed that two of them were killed by natives arrows and the last guy was starved to death after eating the bodies of his two friends during three weeks.
Today, beautiful landscapes are replaced by huge buildings, the last natives are parked in shitty Reserves, and alcohol is sold everywhere. But American people fear more over: they see terrorism everywhere, trigger off war whenever, and invent fabulous stories. They see martians in fields (remember the Roswell affair in 1947), anounce invasion of giant wasps (1998), the big bug of 2000 or worst : the end of the world by a fantastic cataclism.
It is true that the officials, the medias, and mysterious scientifics nourish this fear. It is also true that Hollywood with an extraordinary technological gear has for a long time cultivated the myth of the big monster (Gozilla or Jurassic Park). But why America is so mystic, so supersticious?