It had been a while since I last grabbed a café table at Starbucks,
declaring it as my own and assuming a scowl across my brow in an effort to
keep others from engaging me in conversation. Yes, I could have simply
commenced with a pointless and content-free, 74 minute cell phone conversation
as others so often do, but I didn’t want to be that obnoxious,
mind you. I just wanted to be left alone.
Indeed, I used to frequent Starbucks – probably twice a day, say –
but over time, looking at those who surrounded me, I feared that I, too,
might become a cruel self-parody of my own existence.
For while it's origins were decidedly West Coast, Starbucks would secure
its greatest market among those who were looking for an injection-molded,
East Village coffeehouse synthesis ... without instilling fear or timidity
in their suburban sensibilities ...
And it was here that people could discuss the vices of capitalism and the
virtues of Chomsky in the womb-like safety of a comforting, franchised ambience
(SBUX on the Nasdaq Exchange). In all, a perfect place to think with a
cheap-replacement, university-style academic – without having to once
set foot on the pavement where the objects of one's feigned concern actually
lived. Where those on the Extreme-Left – surely Left of me – could
be buffered and protected from the inconvenience of actual engagement ...
except among themselves.
But I would be at Starbucks on this day to, in part, eavesdrop on the café
conversations regarding the top event of the day: The successful location
and termination of Osama Bin Laden … This, as I conjured a satirical
piece in my head that would serve as a parody of a faction among my own liberal
contemporaries. As envisioned, the farce would center around the Extreme
Left citing Bin Laden as ‘a victim’.
But within the next 48 hours I would have to scrap the idea – as
parody – when, sure as shit … Michael Moore would chime in,
declaring Bin Laden as a victim who had been brutally executed by the United
States government … Moore then went on to explain that this amoral action
was in conflict with the teachings of his Catholic upbringing (no, I’m
not making this up) … Clearly, the whole Bin Laden thing was resting
heavy on Moore’s “catechismic” soul as he waddled through
the Stations of The Cross, repeatedly genuflecting – itself, a physical
challenge for Michael – as he begged for God’s forgiveness on behalf
of his country.
You see, my fellow liberals – many of them ... they love their
victim classes. If victims didn’t exist, they’d have to invent
them. And sometimes do. They’re required, after all, to demonize the
opposition and further provide synthetic fuel for the trendy sensitivity
engine. Beyond that, if you’re looking for sincerity, go dig up Mother
Teresa or something. The Ultra-Left – as sociological innovators –
uses victims in a way slavery never imagined.
Meanwhile …
The world debated as to whether or not the United States government, cum
Ninja assassins, should release the Kodak Picture Moments of Bin Laden’s
dead body … Me, you ask? … If I were Commander of the operation
– as well as Commander in Chief – I would have removed Osama’s
pants (or lifted his skirt, more accurately), circumcised him, squeezed off
a frame in my Nikon, and released the resultant image to the Arab world.
I would see absolutely no problem with creating a full-length portrait
of Bin Laden as a surgical Jew, particularly when he was now already
halfway towards Sammy Davis, anyway – what – with the missing eye,
and all. The only difference is that Bin Laden curiously had an easier time
acquiring an entire compound in Pakistan than Sammy had getting a room in
The States.
But anyway – that’s me. I’m a vindictive shit.
Still, I know what you’re saying … You’re saying, “But
Joseph … don’t you think that your little photo shoot scenario
would further enrage radical Muslims and put us in additional danger of a
terrorist attack?” … To which I say …
Do you really think these Al-Qaeda nut-jobs will continue to fuck
with The West when they realize they face the humiliating possibility of
being … circumcised? Indeed, there’s nothing against it
– specifically – in the Geneva Standards. I know.
I checked. And … to sweeten the pot … I’d award each terrorist
captured an honorary Doctorate from Brandeis.
There. Problem solved. And I’m not even Jewish. Though … I am
circumcised, I suppose.
And then there was this whole, burial at sea thing – implemented within
24 hours in observance of the Muslim faith ....... Oh, bullshit.
Me, you ask again?
I would have salted and smoked the Bin Laden body, and put it out on display
for a duration as long as a Slim Jim hangs in the rack at a 7-11 convenience
store – likely to be sold some years down the road by a Pakistani,
ironically enough. I mean, it wouldn’t – like – be the first
time that some Pakistani financially benefitted from a Bin Laden presence,
it seems to me.
Besides, I start to conjure these Japanese Sci-Fi film images of Bin Laden
returning from the sea – now 70 feet tall – sporting a scale-covered
tail, and shit. Yeah … should have put him under glass – or in
a Slim Jim wrap – to keep an eye on him.
But that’s me. I’m a vindictive shit. And I don’t dick around.
- Joseph - |
