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Pilgrimage or Demolition Derby?
We’re rolling. Can’t stop. Flattened Iraq. Sights on Syria. Weapons of mass destruction. Almost certain. We won’t stop. Probably hiding terrorists. Shouldn’t stop. It’s George’s show. It’s Rummy’s show. We don’t want to stop.
Eyeing Iran. Going nuclear. Unhelpful. We can’t be stopped. Watching Lebanon. The Saudis. Egypt. We’re on a mission. Who’s next. Who’s not next.
Who’ll stop the rain. Who’ll put out the cat. It’s your turn. Isn’t. Is. Isn’t.
Don’t miss the excitement.
It’s Saddam’s half brother. Saddam’s son-in-law. His half-son-in-law.
Eating a Quarter Pounder. That’s George’s Quarter Pounder. George’s half brother.
Neil Bush. Neil Bush is Saddam’s half brother. Saddam’s half-son-in-law is eating George’s Quarter Pounder. But first. There’s Ahmad Chalabi’s.
Here’s General Garner. He’s riding a carpet, driving a Humvee, humping a camel.
It’s the New Iraq. Everybody’s filthy rich, overweight, great in bed. Everybody’s got their own power tools, their own motor home, hair style, retirement plan.
Everybody’s using ab crunchers, sitting in massage chairs, campaigning for president. We’ve got heat. We’ve got cold. We’ve got hot and cold running water.
No power. Power’s still off. We’re pumped. Pumping oil. Pumping to Playboy.
Here come our POWs. Flags and Texas. In excellent health. Coulda bin tortured.
In excellent spirits. Coulda bin brainwashed. Heroes. Took wrong turn. Coulda bin stoned. Ask Doctor Floyd. Ask Pink Floyd. Ask Christopher Hitchens.
You’re on the air. Hitchen’s bitchin. Lashing Liberals. Mr.Wet Noddle.
Please master. Ten more strokes. Let’s celebrate. Ba1ath Party’s washed up.
The Carwash Party. Here come the Christian Right. They’re knocking on doors. Dissing Allah. Phoning during supper. Praise the Lord. Praise America.
Saddam’s in Syria. Hitler’s in Syria. That proves it. An ancient civilization.
Moved my cheese. It’s 4:10 AM. There is no God. Over to Christiane. She’s in a downpour. That’s not her name. Is so. Her name’s Armanpour. That’s what I said.
Did not. Did so. I smell success. I smell gas. I smell something fishy.
It’s Hal Hussein. Hussein Kamel. Kahlid Abdullah. Abdullah Kahlidi. He’s doing a great job. He’s a crook. He’s brilliant. A fool. Statesman. Liar. It’s a pilgrimage. A riot. Crusade. Gay Pride Parade. A demolition derby. Here’s Maria.
Over to Tyler. It’s good news. It’s bad news. A whirlpool. A cesspool. Next on the list. Is no list. Is so. Is not. Everything’s possible.
WALLACE GAGNE lives in Tokyo. He can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org