A tale of Hegemony, Monotheism, Massacre and Remembrance -- A. Nonymous

 

He was a feisty little fellow and when I first heard him speak I didn’t know who he was but he made a lot of sense. Now I hadn’t kept up with politics much except for what little I got from Jimmy Kimmel, but this feisty little rascal reminded my of Dennis Kucinich—in a nice sort of way; not as broad in the shoulders, more like Woody Allen. But there was a mean streak in him. He struck me as a man who would know how to build a Fuhrerbunker in a quicksand bog. And when he shook his finger in my face—now I’m saying this theoretically, he didn’t actually do it—and he said, and I wrote this down, “Our nation’s advice for you is to get back to the path of monotheism, justice, and friendship, at least in a bid to safeguard your own nation’s immediate, and long term interests.”

Well, I’m all for friendship and justice and when I found out he was a Muslim I was ready to convert to Islam—or at least I was thinking about it. He appears to be what Nancy Polosi had been looking for. But being a careful person and a High School dropout to boot, I looked up monotheism in the dictionary. Well, imagine my surprise! I had been a monotheist all my life and never knew it! It was almost as shocking as when I discovered I was a monogamist. And when my eighth-grade science teacher told me I was a carnivore—well, it took me a while to recover from that one. So I was a monotheist, a monogamist and a carnivore. And according to that little rascal I was already half a Muslim. All I had to do was find a Mosque and get confirmed and then head for Joe’s Bar and Grille and Gun Club and hoist a few with the boys Wouldn’t they be surprised! Me—a Muslim!

That little rascal—Mahmoud was his name—was so convincing and so full of advice I was mesmerized. Yes—mesmerized. That’s what the Misses says Paris Hilton does to me—mesmerizes me. And now this little rascal was doing the same thing. Anyway, this little rascal said—and I wrote it down too—“Beware, if you do not go back to this path; if you do not end your oppressive methods; if you do not keep on looting the other nations and try to keep on imposing your illegitimate hegemony over other nations, you will face the destiny of past tyrants in history, that is none but death, and downfall for yourselves, and wretched lives for your nation.”

Well that got me to thinking. So I looked up hegemony in the dictionary. Can’t say as I understood what it meant, but that little rascal was one smart cuss—as smart as Dennis Kucinich, almost as smart as Jimmy Kimmel. And I took his words to heart! I sure didn’t want to face the destiny of past tyrants! My life was wretched enough as it was. Being burned to death in a Fuhrerbunker in a trailer park ain’t that appealing. So I studied up on the little rascal and it turned out he’s the President of the Islamic Republic of Iran! And he wasn’t talking about me—no, sir, he was talking about George W. Bush and the United States of America. It appears I had become a little confused. Was this rascal Howard Dean or was he the President of Iran? They sounded similar. It’s easy to cross-pollinate jackasses.

Then I remembered another thing Mahmoud said, “You have so far kept trying for 28 years to halt the path of our nation’s progress in vain…I am hereby assuring you oppressive powers that the Iranian nation’s demand from their political officials is taking full advantage of the entire capabilities of the nuclear energy in technical and industrial fields.”

Nuclear energy? Well, gosh, if somebody didn’t know any better they might think he was talking about the bomb. That’s what I thought and the first thing I thought of was Dr. Strangelove and Chill Wills riding that old nuclear bomb down on the Kremlings. Must have scared the pants off Khrushchev. Or was that Telly Savalas? I always get those two mixed up. Mahmoud made a good argument—he needed the bomb to protect himself from the hegemonizers. Couldn’t blame him for that. He’s for justice and friendship and peace and paternity and so am I. If he don’t like the hegemonizers, than neither do I. At least that’s what I thought at first. Imagine my surprise when Joe at Joe’s Bar and Grille told me I was one of the hegemonizers! Well that didn’t make sense. How could I be a hegemonizer? I didn’t even know what it meant! There must be some mistake! I had been ready to go down to the local Mosque and get sworn in as a Muslim but I decided to hold off for a while. I was getting mixed signals. And I kept thinking of John Walker Lindh.

I heard about that incident at Lewiston Middle School where a student tossed a ham steak in a paper bag on a lunch table where a bunch of Muslim students were eating. C.A.I.R. said it was a hate crime and I thought so too at first. Pigs is unclean and Muslims aren’t supposed to touch them. Then I remembered how Lester Gooch used to throw dog crap on the table where I ate lunch at the Disciplinary Barracks—that’s what we called Thomas Jefferson Middle School. Ham steak ain’t as bad as dog crap and kids is kids. Still I was pretty angry. The Misses asked, “ Shouldn’t you be watching Paris Hilton instead of this crap?’ After a day or two I simmered down.

Then came the Virginia Tech massacre. Well—what do you say? All those poor people in South Korea—praying and grieving and apologizing as if it had been their fault; as if they had been responsible…And the Korean-Americans…praying, grieving for the victims…and the South Korean President expressing his condolences four times! Four times! It wasn’t South Korea’s fault! It wasn’t the Korean-Americans’ fault! The kid was a nut! He could have been an Irishman, an Eskimo—he could have been anybody! Gosh!

And then I remembered what happened after 9/11—Muslims dancing in the streets in Palestine, in Egypt, in Iran, all over the world, some of them right here in the United States! How could I have forgotten? And that creep from Saudi Barbaria—coming over here and offering Rudy Giulian $10 million to aid the victims of 9/11 if the United States would change its foreign policy! I wanted to throw a rock at Rosie O’Donnell. I had come to my senses. The South Koreans had nothing to be ashamed of but I did! I had forgotten who I was and where I was and what the bastards had done to us. I wanted to go out and hug a Korean. The Misses said, “You had better damn not.”

So I went down to Joe’s Bar and Grille and Gun Club. “Still thinking about becoming a Muslim?” asked Piano Legs Hickman?

“Naw,” I said, “I’m leaning toward Buddhism.’