Saturday, May 29, 2004

Operation Maple-Yarmulke Fury

Dick C., our man in the VP, sent me a lovely bottle of carraway schnapps to celebrate the launching of my internet presence. After Renee, my current froggy food-taster (who says the French aren't good for anything?) had a sample (can't be too careful, especially with Dicky C., ho ho ho) and pronounced it 'une vintage excellente, redolent avec notes de honey et spice, vigorous, mais subtle, et finis avec un brilliant coup de grace, beaucoup comme toi, eminence, honh honh honh,' I gave him the customary slap on the nuts and sent him away.

Six nips later I was applying for a job at Mossad when I remembered, I'm already a member.

It was then that Feith called, to remind me that the canucks are Enemies of Democracy everywhere; canadia is truly the France of Our Western Hemisphere.

It was then that Ari called, saying he had my application in front of him (bless our internet age) and perhaps he could find a use to put me to. We had a good laugh about that one. I expressed my concern about the vicious subversion practiced by my Northern neighbour, and asked him if my first assignment couldn't be a little triage. "I emplore you Prime Minister," I said, "Enemies of Democracy anywhere are Friends of Terror everywhere!"

He said, "So then it's a Chavez-Arafat-Martin circlejerk triangle?"

"Fuck you and the failed-state you rode in on," I shouted back with just a faint schoolgirl giggle. "I'll see you in The Hague!"

Well we laughed so hard, I darn near puked.

I asked him if he had gotten the Vice President's little present, and he said that the bulldozers worked great, really knocked the houses right down all the way to the ground, and I said no no, the little little present. I heard a tinkling of glass then, and Ari said "notes de honey et spice."

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

Can't sleep.

Watching videos of CNN from the first gulf war. Usually does the trick.


Maybe Norm Podhoretz is still up. I think he's screening his phone calls since that whole Chalabi thing. Its got him pretty down. Well, no matter how bad things get, I still know our man will still get his day in the sun. You just have to have hope.

Hope is what gets me out of bed in the morning.

Another small victory for freedom

Another country opens its dark curtains of terror to let the light of reason in. Sit down. Read the article and be moved.

Hugo Chavez and the Middle East Peace Process

Its remarkable that no one has pointed out the sheer importance of the Chavez/Palestinian axis.

It seems counter-intuitive, but please keep in mind that I have been working in defense for so many years. I've seen lots of classified information that would make your head spin.

I have it on authority from a Venezuelan exiled to the United States by Chavez goons that his Bolivarian-ness has a portrait of Yasser Arafat framed next to his autographed photo of him and Fidel Castro at a burlesque show.

What can I say. I was intrigued. I was wrong about the alliance of the Falklands Islands and the PLO. But the Brits took care of the Falklands, so that was defused promptly. Better neutralize them than get it wrong and see Buenos Aires go up in an atomic holocaust, I say.

I was also slightly wrong about the collusion between the Tutsis and the Hutus to invade Israel.

but I digress!

Back to Chavez. If you read the notes of the OPEC records, there are some interesting patterns. I sent the notes from the Venezuelan delegation to David Wurmser and he was able to obtain the most amazing results. He spent a couple of months locked in a room trying to decode their messages to the Saudis. He put in so much work, and eventually the code was broken. He used the same cipher that was used for the Bible Code and got these following messages.

"Gay cossacks intel. Mobilize immediately. Dick Clark is quelled at midnight."

"Less talk. More volcanic rock."

"Hugo smharm kasper bombing telethon hebron."

"Cattle are barbed when the well goes limp."

"honey good pony hop arafat. beaver cleaver. cleaved kingdom. nitroglycerin."

"hugo chavez makes up for awefoafew length awefafaioeawa in girth. satisfy arafat."

We need to act before it is too late. Call your congressman.

The time for Iran is nigh

Ladies and Gentlemen, I once said behind closed doors that Baghdad was a start, but Tehran was where the real men were going.

Well, if this isn't a casus belli, I have no idea what is.

According to the Defense Intelligence Agency, the Iranians duped our government into attacking Iraq for them.

This is not all bad. No one can say that the world is not a better place without Saddam Hussein in power.

However: we cannot be made into laughing stocks. The United States will not be duped as long as strong men are in power.

Iran also plays finely into the overall scheme for peace in the mid-east. When a democratic country is established there, We will see not one but two major middle eastern nations friendly to Israel and America, open to free trade and civilization.

The Palestinians will have a new homeland in Trans-Jordan, The Jordanians will have a new homeland in Iraq, the Iraqis will have a new homeland in Iran, the Iranians will have a new homeland in Afghanistan, The Afghanis will have a new home in Pakistan, and the Pakistanis will have a new homeland in India.

And then Iran, Pakistan, India, Israel and Al Qaeda will turn their nuclear weapons on Saudi Arabia.

This is a flawless plan. I imagine that the shock waves of fear will send his Bolivarian-ness Hugo Chavez fleeing in fear under Fidel Castro's bed.

Kim Jong-Il? I know what I would do in his position. The magnificence of the geo-strategic land-slide will be so immense that he will have no choice but to stand down in fear for his life.

By the way, I believe the Bush administration has really lost their bearings by initiating any form of diplomacy with them. I'd remind them of the parable about the insane man with a loaded handgun, told offhand in class by Leo Strauss (Wolfy took such good notes, I think Allan Bloom was also fond of this tale).

Issac and Ishmael (no relation to the sons of Abraham, names just used for the purpose of the story) happen to meet each other at a wall. Both men are armed, as it is their right to be able to protect themselves.

Ishmael was clearly disturbed, his hair long and unkempt, his face covered in a swarthy beard. He muttered to a bird in his hand about his desire to kill Issac, for Issac was rich and intelligent; he was resentful of Issac's literacy, his nice clothing and civilized way of life.

Issac, being smart, knew that he could not let this lunatic run free. So he bravely cornered him against the wall and told him to surrender, pointing his gun at the insane man. Ismael capitulated and gave his gun over immediately, for he knew that Issac was truly right. By being cornered by a man with a loaded gun, Ismael for the first time understood that Issac was good, and he was evil.

So this is the lesson: the best way to deal with an insane man with a gun is to corner him and threaten him. We are cornering Kim Jong-Il, but we aren't being nearly as threatening as we should be.

Take a note, President Bush.

I was confounded by the most stunning puzzle.

Have you ever heard of a 'Chinese finger trap?'

I'm not sure what's Chinese about it this peculiar woven tube. But after about 200 games of skee-ball, I was able to exchange these tickets for a brand new trap.

I actually had to cut a corner or two. Or three. It was really easy. All I had to do was find the first 10 year old with a pituitary problem, put my arm around his shoulder, and point at a young goober whose pockets were overflowing with tickets.

"Son," I said, "That young man was standing next to me at the urinal a second ago. You would not believe what he was telling me."

He was interested. I also was holding on quite hard, he didn't have much of a choice about whether to listen.

"That dirty little boy had some lurid things to say about your mother. I may have to draw a diagram, I'm not exactly sure how detailed sexual education is nowadays."

This one always works. His eyebrows perked up.

"I'll just give you the tip of the iceberg. The tip is always the sharpest, so please don't kill the messenger. He's managed to tunnel through the walls of your house, all the way behind the mirror of your Mom's bathroom."

I didn't have to hold on tight anymore. His teeth were grinding.

"I won't go into details, but he says that he likes to smear himself with butter while ... no hold on, stay with me here... videotaping her come out of the shower. He sells the videotapes to the chain smoking loonies in the park."

A couple of minutes later I had my tickets. I think the overgrown young man is before a juvenile judge right now, but I managed to get out of there quickly.

I digress. Back to the finger trap!

Wolfowitz and I were at dinner, and he told me what the purpose of the toy is. You stick your fingers in either side, and then try to get them out. So I shoved my two index fingers inside.

They got stuck.

We didn't know what to do: the harder we pulled, the harder the trap stuck to my fingers. Paul even helped me yank as hard as I could; after a half an hour my fingers were sore and bloody.

After the blood started to flow, there was no way in hell that I would press further into the trap, to give in to its clutches. We all know the story of Munich and its moral: cede not an inch to your enemy, the path will be hard, but in the end, good will prevail over evil. We were bigger than the trap and there was no fucking way we were going to give up.

Long story short, John Poindexter came over with a blowtorch an hour later and seared the thing off. I don't think there was any other way. My fingers are a little singed and I'm still pulling plastic threads out, but I didn't cede a goddamned millimeter to that ridiculous tool.

I'd say it was a good day, overall.