In a speech that sparked controversy and condemnation from nearly every corner, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad excoriated the West, capitalism, Israel, John Phillips, the decision of the Cartoon Network to run live programming, and the failure of America to make Jennifer Aniston a star when she has been through so much, what with Brad and Angelina and all.

But what may have turned the room against him early on, some say, is the moment when Ahmadinejad sneezed into his hand and adjusted the microphone, thereby exposing everyone to --

No, sorry, that's not what I meant to write. But it can't be helped. Everything comes back to the flu. Bear with me as we sort out the latest on the Big Story of the Year:

1. As it turns out, washing your hands is probably not the best defense, unless you're the sort of person who ends every handshake by jamming your fingers in your mouth. New research says the flu is spread mostly by airborne particles -- i.e., sneeze-juice -- so unless you walk around with Saran Wrap over your head spraying a fine mist of chlorine in a 360-degree radius, washing hands isn't enough. I know we're supposed to scrub until we see bone, but apparently "Not Breathing" is the answer. Please make a note of it.

2. There have been reports that they're low on vaccine. I guess last year it didn't sell so well, and they got stuck with leftovers, which they had to carbonate and pass off as a new flavor of Fresca.

So they cut back. Or there's just so much demand -- imagine that! -- and people who would normally skip the poke believe the flu shot beats regular flu and H1N1. Sorry. The vaccines are strain-specific. It's not like the germs in your body are stamped FLU and the vaccine lures them into a darkened capillary and gives it the business. Don't come 'round here anymore, pally.

It's possible the government wants people to get the regular flu, so they'll stay home, and there will be fewer people around to spread the H1N1. If you believe that, you also might think the Purell people invented H1N1 in a lab as a scheme to promote awareness of their new "Aloe-tastic" line. It softens while it cleans!

I got my shot, but late. I dithered. The drug store was giving shots, but I never get immunized at a place whose sign manages to misspell "CLEARANCE" now and then. You'd get the vaccine, but it would only protect you from the Floo.

At the grocery store I heard an announcement: shots in aisle 14. At the grocery store? Great. You have to stand behind someone who waits until the shot's rung up to get out her insurance information.

This was Cub, so I wondered if I'd actually have to give myself the shot. They'd stick it in, but I had to push the plunger. Perhaps they gave shots at the self-serve checkout -- I always screw that up, and didn't like the idea of standing there screaming while the screen says UNEXPECTED CONTACT WITH ARTERY. PLEASE WAIT FOR ATTENDANT.

No, I got it the shot at Target. Two-hour wait. First you fill out a form. Are you allergic to eggs? Trees? Lady Gaga? Have you ever had a shot then swelled up like a red balloon and spoken in tongues? Are you currently sick as a dog? Are you, in fact, a dog? And so on. While I filled out the form, a fellow came out of the back, rubbing his arm; he faced the room and gave the kids a big, evil grin.

"Biggest needle I ever saw," he said. He held his hands apart to indicate the length of a railroad spike.

Turned out to be the most painless shot I've ever had, which makes me suspect they didn't give it to me at all, but just slapped on a bandage and sent me on my way.

Well, studies show placebos sometimes work just as well as the real thing, so maybe I'll be fine. Maybe you can just rub your hands together without soap or water and call that "washing."

Can you get time off for placebo flu? I'll let you know.

jlileks@startribune.com • 612-673-7858 More daily at www.startribune.com/buzz