November 23rd, 2014
Mighty Arab Sheikhs
I’m reading a really terrific book right now, Desert Queen, by Janet Wallach, about Gertrude Bell, a British adventurer, author, scholar, spy, and the brains behind T. E. Lawrence, otherwise known as Lawrence of Arabia. Gertrude Bell was older than Lawrence, had been to the Middle East many more times, and had befriended all of the mightiest Arab Sheikhs. It was through her contacts and suggestions that Lawrence was able to unite the many Arab tribes, fight the Turks and beat them during World War I. Had it not been for Bell, Lawrence would have achieved nothing. And keep in mind that this was a time when women were not accepted in politics at all, yet Gertrude rose to become a leader of the Arab bureau. Gertrude Bell was an astounding character and I’m exceedingly pleased to have found this book.
I had the pleasure and challenge of directing Anthony Quinn in the film, Hercules in the Maze of the Minotaur. The very first time I had Mr. Quinn on the set I said, "You might very well think I've wasted my life, and perhaps I have, but I've seen Lawrence Of Arabia about a hundred times. I know your entire speech in the tent at Wadi Rumm. May I do it for you now?"
“Certainly,” he said, looking bemused.
“I am Auda abu Tayi! Does Auda serve? Does Auda abu Tayi serve? I carry twenty-three great wounds, all got in battle. Seventy-five men have I killed with my own hands in battle. I scatter, I burn my enemies' tents. I take away their flocks and herds. The Turks pay me a golden treasure, yet I am poor! Why? Because I am a river to my people!” then all of the Howeitat tribesmen begin waving their sticks and ululating.
Mr. Quinn seemed honestly amused.
Gertrude Bell first befriended Auda’s cousin, Muhammad, whom she described as, “Magnificent. Tall and big with a flashing look, the Howeitat reputation for dare-devilry written on his face.” Gertrude stayed with the Howeitat for three days, as was their custom, and when she was to leave, Muhammad gave her a gift of a half load of corn and she gave him a pair of Zeiss binoculars. “He is a man, and a good fellow; you can lay your head in his tents, and sleep at night and have no fear. I learnt much of the desert and its people. The Howeitat are great people.” Janet Wallach goes on to say, “He showered her with kindness and over the course of three days she and Muhammad had become ‘great friends.’ It was a friendship that would be highly valuable later, when she worked with T. E. Lawrence to organize the revolt against the Turks.”
Gertrude Bell is only made the vaguest reference to in the movie, Lawrence of Arabia, when Lawrence suggests to Ali (Omar Sharif) that they seek the help of the Howeitat and Auda Abu Tayi in the fight against the Turks—Ali, who is not Howeitat, but Harith, is very much against this idea—but Lawrence says something like, “I hear they’re the fiercest warriors in all of Arabia.” From whom did he hear it? Why, from Gertrude Bell, of course.
What the film Lawrence of Arabia never touches on is that the two biggest rulers of Arabia were ibn Rashid, considered the mightier warrior; and ibn Saud, whose tribe was bigger and more powerful, and these two tribes were in a constant state of war, until ibn Saud took over once and for all. Here’s how Wikipedia explains ibn Saud:
“Abdulaziz (Arabic: عبد العزيز بن عبد الرحمن آل سعود, ‘Abd al-‘Azīz ibn ‘Abd ar-Raḥman Āl Sa‘ūd; 15 January 1876 – 9 November 1953), usually known outside of the Arab world as Ibn Saud, was the first monarch of Saudi Arabia, the third Saudi State.
He reconquered his family's ancestral home city of Riyadh in 1902, touching off three decades of conquests that left him the ruler of nearly all of central Arabia. He consolidated his control over the Najd [a big desert] in 1922, then conquered the Hijaz [also a big desert] in 1925. He united his dominions into the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia in 1932. As King, he presided over the discovery of petroleum in Saudi Arabia in 1938 and the beginning of large-scale oil production after World War II. He fathered many children, including 45 sons, and all of the subsequent kings of Saudi Arabia.”
And, yea, an enormous battle of galactic proportion did thus ensue between ibn Rashid and ibn Saud, and the Mastiffs of War were released, and lo, the . . . wait a minute, that didn’t even happen.
So, how did ibn Saud take control of all of Arabia away from ibn Rashid who was a mightier warrior? He didn’t; Ibn Rashid did it himself. All of the males in the Rashid tribe went berserk and killed all of the other males until the eldest male living was a sixteen-year-old boy. All that remained of the Rashid clan now were females, and what good was that? Only women bleed, but only men really know how to kill (sure, women will kill, if necessary, like if you threaten their young; but warriors love to kill; anyone, including each other). And there were no more enemies to kill since they had all thoughtfully killed each other.
This is the only photograph I could find of the ibn Rashid I’m referring to . . .
Thus, ibn Saud became King of Arabia, and since then only his offspring have ruled Arabia. And this will go on forever . . . or at least somewhat longer than the 82 years its lasted up until now.
Ibn Rashid and ibn Saud were the last of their kind (at least in their neighborhood)—warrior-kings—but none of their progeny followed in their footsteps. There have been no more warrior-kings in Arabia ever since. The religious leaders, the Mullahs, took over and peace sang out from one end of the middle-east to the other, like the adhān (Arabic: أَذَان [ʔaˈðaːn]), the Islamic call to worship, recited by the muezzin at prescribed times of the day.
Meanwhile, not far away in Mesopotamia, where the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers converge, and the once-mighty city of Babylon stood, with its 350-foot-tall tower at its center, in an area that was once the most fertile, irrigated soil on earth, but was now an arid wasteland, their came a ferocious warrior-king, born on the 28th day of April, in the Christian year of 1937 Anno Domini. And though he himself was of the Sunni sect of Islam, totaling a mere one-fifth of the population of Mesopotamia, now called Iraq (as per British mandate), the other four-fifths being either Shi’a Muslim, Kurd, Chaldean, Jewish, or one of a million other races, ibn Hussein (meaning son of Hussein, just like Jews use Ben, as in Ben Hur), somehow felt that the Sunni sect was in some way shape or form better than all the others. And thus he grew to manhood and on 16 July 1979 until 9 April 2003 he ruled all he saw, with a stiff hand and a big stick, although, unlike Teddy Roosevelt, he did not speak softly.
Saddam, if I may be so bold to call him that, did an impossible, yea, nearly miraculous thing—he got both the Sunni and Shi’a of Iraq (another British mandate) to fear him so much that they stopped fighting each other, something that had never occurred before. He then tried extremely hard to get the Islamic-run, predominately Shi’a, country of Iran, right next to Iraq (also a British mandate), to fear him, too. But alas, in this eight-year-long conflict (the longest conventional war of the 20th century), Saddam may well have been the mightier warrior-king, like ibn Rashid, but Iran was bigger and more powerful, like ibn Saud, and we all know how that turned out. And even though Saddam had nationalized the petroleum business and the banks and therefore had plenty of oil money flowing in, he managed to run Iraq into insolvency due to the high-cost of fighting an eight-year war, not to mention at a cost of a million military and civilians lives on both sides.
So, what do you do once you’ve just lost all of your money and half a million or so of your population? Why, you attack the biggest dog on the block, the true warrior-kings of the world, the United States of America. To begin with, Saddam began to personally insult our warrior-king, George H. W. Bush, calling him bad names and threatening to kill him. Well, President Bush didn’t like this any better than did ibn Saud. However, the main difference between ibn Saud and the USA is that Saud had a bunch of camels, swords, a few guns and a couple of artillery pieces; America, on the other hand, not only has the mightiest army, navy, marine corps, and air force in the world, but we also have an extremely bad attitude, known as a baditude, and we don’t even like being looked at the wrong way. We’re so powerful that we’ve forced the entire world to speak English, which the British had already attempted, but once they got half the world to speak English their Empire collapsed around their ears, so they gave up and swam back to their little island.
America, whether we like it or not, is the policeman of the world. This practice was begun by my hero, Teddy Roosevelt, who coined the phrase (cribbed from an old African expression), “Speak softly and carry a big stick.” When Teddy came into office, having previously been, among other things, the police chief of New York City, and the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, as well as the rough-riding hero of the Spanish-American War, he was not only not going to take any shit from anybody; he wasn’t going to let anybody give anybody else any shit, either. Teddy sent our navy, known as the Great White Fleet due to all of the ships being white, into more places during his seven-year presidency than any other American president before or since. And you know what he got for it? The Nobel Peace Prize, that’s what. Our troops went into a country, straightened out their problems, then split in less than a month in every single case. That’s how one ought to fight a war—never get caught with boots on the ground; never get caught in a quagmire—do your business, make your point, then vamoose. The greatest example of this was America’s entry into World War I, right near the end. The war, which had already lasted for four years, 1914-1918 (we declared war on Germany in 1917, but didn’t actually do any fighting until June of 1918. When our American commander, John “Blackjack” Pershing saw what was going on—immovable trench warfare where neither side gained any territory ever—he declared “Bullshit” and began the Muese-Argonne Offensive, the largest battle in human history, the battle-line stretching 1,000 miles from the Mediterranean in the south to the Baltic in the north, and kicked the living shit out of the Germans in just 47 days, which, as history is always doing, became known as “The 100 day offensive.”
Anyway, when George Bush the Elder heard that Saddam had attacked our ally, Kuwait: he got his two top generals, Swartzkopf and Powell, to come up with a battle plan, we attacked Iraq, kicked them the hell out of Kuwait, then, in about a month, we ourselves skedaddled back to America. Bush had just pulled a Teddy Roosevelt maneuver and it was beautiful—we accomplished our stated goal with only minor casualties on both sides. Bush was immediately chastised for not eliminating Saddam Hussein, but that wasn’t part of the plan, and finding and killing him might well have gotten us stuck there, which he wasn’t going to do under any circumstances.
If your mom sends you up to the corner bakery to buy a loaf of bread and says, “Be back by dinnertime in an hour,” and you return three hours later with a big bag of candy, but no bread—you’ve fucked up; you didn’t follow the plan, and now you’re in trouble, as you ought to be. George H. W. Bush was not about to come home late and face his mother with no bread, that’s for sure.
So, Saddam licked his minor wounds, and plotted to not only kill Bush, but all Americans everywhere. He took what little money he had left and purchased centrifuges from the Germans, ostensibly to refine uranium into energy, but actually to refine uranium in to nuclear bombs to drop on America. Sadly for little Saddam, now covered with Hello Kitty Band-Aids, he didn’t have one single scientist in Bagdad who was smart enough to take the centrifuges out of the German newspapers in which they were wrapped, nor could he afford someone like A. Q. Khan, Pakistan’s great nuclear physicist and metallurgical engineer, known as the “Benefactor of Pakistan,” who had not only built Pakistan’s atomic weapons arsenal, but also that of South Africa. As a little side note: when it came out that Khan was helping other countries besides Pakistan achieve nuclear weapons and was arrested, everyone, particularly the USA, pretended that they had no idea what this fellow was up to. That’s all well and good, except that A. Q. Khan had been taking out full-page ads in Centrifuge & Heavy Metal Gazette, or whatever the international nuclear weapons magazine is really called, for years, and everyone knew what he was doing. The Pakistanis love this guy and finally overturned his conviction, which had been solely-based on America’s concerns, not Pakistan’s.
So, Saddam had all these German centrifuges wrapped in German newspapers and didn’t have a clue what to do with them. Saddam thought and thought, but the best he could come up with was, “Why can’t I just drop the Goddamn newspaper-wrapped centrifuges on those fucking Americans? OK, that’s not what they were made for, but if I score a direct hit I might take out at least one American, or at least cause a concussion, or, in lieu of that, a bad headache.” But he couldn’t even figure out how to do that.
George H. W. Bush—not a bad president—came and went after one-term, then came Bill Clinton—a good president—who was way too smart to take Saddam’s bait in the course of eight years, then came George Bush the Younger, who mistakenly thought he was ibn Bush, or ibn Saud, or ibn Rashid, a mighty warrior-king. Alas, that was not only not so, but little Bush turned out to be the worst president in U.S. history, who couldn’t win a fight with a handicapped little girl if he had an Uzi sub-machine gun, an Abrams tank, and a flame-thrower.
Even though his dad had not taken anything Saddam said seriously—only his actions, which were not against us, but our ally—baby Bush took everything Saddam said seriously. Well, if ever there was a big-mouthed liar in the world, Saddam was it—he said that he had weapons of mass destruction, when in fact he only had centrifuges wrapped in crumbling German newspapers. In reality, this asshole didn’t even have a slingshot or a peashooter; all he had was a big mouth.
Well, if the school bully threatens to beat you up every day for a whole semester, but doesn’t, after a point you have to stop taking him seriously—either hit me more or shut up—just because you have a fat yap doesn’t mean you know how to fight.
This how Wikipedia, which is written by anybody and everybody, explains what happened next: “In 2003, a coalition led by the U.S. and U.K. invaded Iraq to depose Saddam, in which U.S. President George W. Bush and British Prime Minister Tony Blair accused him of possessing weapons of mass destruction and having ties to al-Qaeda. Saddam's Ba'ath party was disbanded and elections were held. Following his capture on 13 December 2003, the trial of Saddam took place under the Iraqi interim government. On 5 November 2006, Saddam was convicted of charges related to the 1982 killing of 148 Iraqi Shi'ites and was sentenced to death by hanging. His execution was carried out on 30 December 2006.”
OK, what’s wrong with this description? “a coalition led by the U.S. and U.K. invaded Iraq?” George Bush was never able to put together a coalition other than Britain under the rule of the painfully idiotic Tony Blair. Bush and Blair’s coalition was shunned by the entire world. Wanna know why? Cuz everybody knew, or at least suspected, that there weren’t any WMDs. The United Nations had sent in their top weapons inspector, Hans Blix, and his team, and they couldn’t find a trace of anything, and that was their job and they were the best in the world. But, not only did Spurious George not believe Hans Blix, but neither did the U.S. Congress, nor almost anybody working in the crazy mixed-up world of news, broadcast or print—and even though the CIA and the FBI had both told them otherwise—they all bought the ridiculous WMD horseshit because they’re all a bunch of gullible pussies. They and I both had watched Colin Powell, perhaps the biggest sucker ever born, and George Tenent, the seated, exceptionally uncomfortable wiggleworm, jerk asshole CIA chief, stand there in front the U.N. Security Council and the world and lie their fucking heads off. Powell, with his lateral lisp, sometimes referred to as a 'slushy ess' or a 'slushy lisp,' has difficulty saying s, z, r, l, and th, very much like Wallace Shawn in The Princess Bride, wherein Shawn keeps saying, “Thiss iss inconsseivable” until Andre the Giant says, “I don’t think you understand what that word means,” repeatedly kept saying horseshit like, “Thiss evidensse iss indissputable.” (Quick, everyone cover your face from flying spittle). “And I can prove it, too. Here, quick, look at thiss drawing of a mobile biological laboratory mass destruction unit, otherwisse known ass a “truck. Uh-oh, too late,” and he quickly handed it to the apparently deathly bored, though actually supremely nervous, CIA chump sitting behind him. Powell continued, “Admittedly, we couldn’t afford a better artisst, but I think you get the pitcher.” Then he held up a little brown bottle filled with white powder, which looked suspiciously to me like a couple of grams of blow, and said, “This is indissputable proof that Ssaddam Hussein is making Sserine gas,” at which point the entire audience, including the viewers at home, brought out their umbrellas to shield themselves from the veritable tsunami of saliva raining down on their heads. Then, for his grand finale, Powell showed a grainy, black and white, satellite photo of a couple of sandbags in the middle of the desert, and proclaimed, “Ass (I can’t find the correct letter to imitate the sound he makes making the S in as because it looks like ass; and it certainly smelled like it, too) you can plainly ssee, thiss iss an underground biological laboratory where they produsse the sserine gass, or powder, or powder that myssterioussly becomes a gass, and even ssough there’ss almosst none of thiss sshit produssed in the world (one hundred to one-ssoussand tonss a year, worldwide), Ssaddam hass the patent and twademark (Holy shit! Colin Powell has fantasmagorically become Tweety-Bird) and resseivess both ressidualss and royaltiess every time the ssong, Oh, Ssarine Gass, Ssweet Sserine Gass, is played. Oh, yeah, by sshe (that’s a tough one, too, writing “the” with two SSs because it looks “she”), way, Ssaddam Hussein (it’s handy that Hussein already has two SSs) harborss al-Qaeda and wass behind sshe attackss on the World Trade Ssenterss on nine-eleven.”
And then both Powell and Tenent slunk off never to be heard from again.
Ssaddam Hussein . . . hey, wait a minute, I’m not Colin Powell, or am I? Anyway, Saddam Hussein didn’t give a rat’s ass what those two clowns said. And even though he didn’t harbor al-Qaeda, nor did he even like them—remember, Ssaddam wass Ssunni (shit, I can’t stop doing it), and all those cocksuckers from Saudi Arabia (remember them? The folks with all of the oil, where young men get no pussy at all, so instead they go to universities in places like Hamburg, Germany, where they have far too much horrible freedom, and way too much time on their hands, so they plan nefarious shit like 9/11), are Shi’a, and you may recall how this all came down between Ibn Rashid and ibn Saud, all those many, 82 years ago.
OK. Powell and Tenent made an extremely cogent, convincing argument, and therefore everybody agreed that not only had Saddam attacked Kuwait, but had also threatened George Bush II, otherwise known as George H. W. Bush, with imaginary WMDs, but what the fuck? He now also harbored al-Qaeda and was behind the attacks on 9/11?
Hey! Wait a minute. Wasn’t that Osama bin Laden, the Shi’a scion black sheep of the fabulously wealthy bin Laden tribe, that happened to build the American military base in Saudi Arabia, out of which we were eventually kicked?
Thus bringing us to our last mighty Arab sheikh, Osama bin Laden.
But let’s wind up Ssaddam Hussein, sshal we? After goading young Bush III sufficiently (aptly named after the British monarch who not only lost the American Revolutionary War—thus beginning the eventual decline of the mighty British Empire—but then went complete stark raving mad), America and its non-coalition, which besides England, now also included Poland, ordered Hans Blix and his team out of the country and attacked Iraq on 20 March, 2003. After nearly 5,000 U.S. troops were killed, and possibly somewhere between 100,000 and 200,000 Iraqis, mostly civilians, had died, finally, nine years later, President Barack Hussein Obama pulled out our troops and ended the Iraq War. But, of course, it hasn’t actually ended because the hostilities haven’t ended; nor was it actually a war; it was a “police action.” Anyway, following Saddam’s capture on 13 December 2003, the trial of Saddam took place under the Iraqi interim government (which we Americans thoughtfully installed). On 5 November 2006, Saddam was convicted of charges related to the 1982 killing of 148 Iraqi Shi'ites (supposedly by deadly Ssarine gas, which was never proven) and was sentenced to death by hanging. His execution was carried out on 30 December 2006, and, if you’re of a mind, you can watch it on YouTube.
Many, many people accused Saddam of gassing his own people—except they weren’t his own people, which were the Sunni; these folks were Shi’a, and the only reason people say shit like “his own people” is because they don’t understand that all of the countries in the Middle East are an illusion created by the British during World War I so they could draw and paint maps (T. E. Lawrence’s first military gig). The Arabs of the Middle East do not recognize these false British borders, and therefore, the 148 Iraqi Shi’ites Saddam had executed—if indeed he even did—were possibly hung (though probably not, since there’s a dearth of trees in that ‘hood—Americans like hanging people, particularly gunslingers and uppity nigras, because we have a plethora of trees), but more than likely had their heads chopped off which is the custom in those parts. No one has ever proven that Saddam ever had Serine gas, let alone used it, on his or anyone else’s people.
I’ve now met two U.S. Marines, both vets of Iraq and Afghanistan, who both claimed to have personally seen the WMDs. In both cases I asked if they’d gotten photos, and in both instances, they did, but didn’t have them with them because they were on an older cell phone. “Don’t your photographs automatically go into your new phone?” “Yeah, but these didn’t. They don’t look like much, anyway, just empty warehouses where the WMDs used to be.” “So then you didn’t see the WMDs.” “Yes, I did, or at least, I saw where they used to be.” “Ah! Now I see.”
Oh, Osama bin Laden, where for art thou? At the bottom of the Indian Ocean, that’s where. He’s turned to music and is now decomposing. Remember way back when we used to mix up Osama bin Laden with Barack Hussein Obama and Saddam Hussein Obama? Luckily, that time has passed; all we had to do was eliminate two out of the three and now there’s no longer any confusion.
Osama bin Laden was the first of a new breed of mighty Arab Sheikhs, known as: “Sheikhs Without Borders” or, more appropriately, “Sheikhs Without Borders, Drawn by the British.” One year older than myself—but with a far more awesome beard than I’ve ever grown—Osama partied hearty in his youth, took karate lessons, drugs, fucked chicks, and did everything a good young Shi’a boy from a good family should not do (just like me, only I’m Jewish). So, he like me, was shunned by his family, and off he went wandering, where his travels finally took him to Afghanistan where he joined the Mujahedeen, the rebels fighting the invading Russians (I considered joining the Mujahedeen, but chose Hollywood instead—Christ, what a mistake that was).
As it says in Wikipedia, which could be right or it could be wrong: “Bin Laden was born to the family of billionaire Mohammed bin Awad bin Laden in Saudi Arabia. He studied at university in the country until 1979, when he joined Mujahedeen forces in Pakistan fighting against the Soviet Union in Afghanistan. He helped to fund the Mujahedeen by funneling arms, money and fighters from the Arab world into Afghanistan, and gained popularity from many Arabs. In 1988, he formed al-Qaeda [initially a dojo for errant Arab martial artists]. He was banished from Saudi Arabia in 1992, and shifted his base to Sudan, until U.S. pressure forced him to leave Sudan in 1996. After establishing a new base in Afghanistan, he declared a war against the United States, initiating a series of bombings and related attacks. Bin Laden was on the American Federal Bureau of Investigation's (FBI) lists of Ten Most Wanted Fugitives and Most Wanted Terrorists for his involvement in the 1998 U.S. embassy bombings.”
Hey! Where’s the part where he met with Saddam Hussein, straightened out all of the issues between the Sunnis and the Shi’ites, then went out drinking? I hear they hit every bar in Baghdad and tore up the town, personally rebuilding the Tower of Babel out of beer cans. Oh, well, I didn’t read that in Wikipedia, so it’s probably not true.
Since the Mujahedeen were the only folks left on earth fighting Communism, which hadn’t officially ended yet in the U.S.S.R., the U.S. took an extreme interest in them, then began funneling them money and arms (please see the late great Mike Nichols’ brilliant film, Charlie Wilson’s War, written by my favorite young screenwriter, Aaron Sorkin). What the Mujahedeen specifically needed were surface-to-air missiles, or SAMS, to shoot down all of the U.S.S.R.’s multitude of jets and helicopters that were wreaking havoc on the Afghanis. So Congressman Charlie Wilson (a bigger drunk than me, now dead) set up an exceptionally convoluted deal to give the Mujahedeen SAMS that happened to be manufactured in Israel—as the Pakistani president says in the movie, “If we find one Star of David on any of the boxes the deal is off!”). Well, once the Mujahedeen had SAMS, that’s all she wrote for the Commies (as the U.S. soldiers used to say in Vietnam, “Kill a Commie for Mommy”). Not only did they lose the war in Afghanistan, the enormous cost of losing so many jets and helicopters broke their bank and ended Communism in Russia—not the former lifeguard, then second-string movie star, then governor of California, then President of the United States, Ronald Regan who literally had nothing to do with it other than proclaiming, “Mr. Gorbachev, bring down that wall.”
I’ve spent nearly two months in Sofia, Bulgaria making SyFy Network shit, and while I was there good old Ronnie Regan died. Many Bulgarians paid me their condolences, to which I replied, “I didn’t vote for him, but he was a helluva great lifeguard—did you know that he saved 28 people’s lives?” Anyway, I asked every Bulgarian I met (please keep in mind that Bulgaria is directly next to Russia, was under Communist dominance for many years, and is the only other place in the universe where they speak Cyrillic), “Did President Regan have anything to do with the fall of Communism in Russia,” which was, each and every time, met with a blank stare and the response of, “No, why would you say that?” and I’d reply, “Just checking,” then I would turn to the camera department and say, “Check the gate,” meaning is there any fuzz or hair in the camera where the film goes through, although I don’t believe that this is germane at this juncture in the conversation.
And what of Osama bin Laden? As the untrustworthy Wikipedia goes on to say, “From 2001 to 2011, bin Laden was a major target of the War on Terror, as the FBI placed a $25 million bounty on him in their search for him. On May 2, 2011, bin Laden was shot and killed inside a private residential compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan, by SCPO Robert O'Neill during a covert operation conducted by members of the United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group and Central Intelligence Agency SAD/SOG operators on the orders of U.S. President Barack Obama.”
Since Wikipedia failed to mention the reason for the $25 million bounty, I will, or, better yet, I’ll just give you a photo and a caption and you make of it what you will:
Oh, right, that. I remember now, Osama bin Laden personally took down three airplanes at the same time with nothing but a measly box-cutter. Not bad for just using a box-cutter, although being in three places simultaneously sort of confuses me.
So, Osama bin Laden was now the most-wanted criminal in the world, with a pretty hefty bounty on his head, so obviously this became issue number one for the Bush administration, right? No. The valiant warrior-king, George W. Bush, direct descendant of the dinosaurs, who also had brains the size of peas . . .
. . . was still after the powerless Saddam Hussein (Jesus, not that guy again) and had no time for Osama bin Laden, al-Qaeda, nor any of their silly antics. OK, so George “Brachiosaurus” Bush was after the wrong guy for the wrong reasons, but that’s all right, Saddam had called W.’s dad some pretty nasty names, and honestly, what’s more important? Avenging the lives of nearly 3,000 American civilians or kicking the ass of the guy who said that your dad wore army boots? I mean, your mom. Whatever. Well, there’s no question about that—you go after the ruffian with the potty mouth, of course.
And so, in the year of 2006 AD, somewhere during the fifth year of the illegal war in Iraq, the courageous, famed Vietnam veteran, and just plain old all-around good guy, George W. (which stands for “What-the-Fuck?”) Bush singlehandedly killed Saddam Hussein with a rusty claw hammer, or something akin to it, perhaps a crowbar or a baseball bat. The American people were so thankful that they immediately threw him a big party called “The Great Recession,” and in payment for his courage, almost all Americans gave him their houses as gifts. And two of the three major American car companies, out of sheer gratitude, declared bankruptcy. Hurrah!
But what of Osama bin Laden? you may still be asking. Well, he gave up his kingdom, moved to the suburbs of Islamabad, across the street from a military academy, and seriously took up porn and masturbation.
And what of President Bush the Younger? He too moved to the suburbs of Islamad (Texas, that is), and, coincidentally, also seriously took up porn and masturbation. Apparently, this is the preferred fallback position of retired warrior-kings. Bush also enjoys painting pictures of his dog, which is just plain old cute.
Well then, who went after the mighty warrior sheikh, Osama bin Laden? Some extremely tough, right-wing, Republican, warrior-king, no doubt. And that’s nearly true, too, except that this warrior-king just happened to be a Democrat named Barack Hussein Obama, a legitimate warrior-king, who never spares his enemies the cruelest possible punishments. Obama, like Auda Abu Tayi, kills his enemies, scatters their flocks and burns their tents; he does not kill assholes who have bad-mouthed his Muslim father. Nor would he, because that my friends is petty, and no warrior-king ever killed out of sheer pettiness—except the ibn Rashids, but they don’t count because they no longer exist.