cognitorex

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I've been trying to imagine the Iraq situation as a football game.
Start with Shia on one side of the ball and Sunnis on the other. The Yanks are the Officials.
Embedded in both side are criminal elements who from time to time shoot somebody in the huddle or kidnap a prominent son or daughter, demanding a first down as payment.
Also playing are a number of foreign Jihadists who plant explosives in the football just when one side appears poised to score. They, to date, have been so efficient that the goal line areas have all but disappeared.
The field is surrounded by US tanks because the stands empty in violent protest after close calls bring cries of favoritism. For cheers, “Satan’s Lackeys” and “Give us back our Oil” seem to be crowd favorites.
The Mullahs, of course, declared a fatwa regarding the use of pigskin which was particularly dicey but had the cheering side effect of seeing all participants line up on the same side for a mercurial moment.
The Mullahs also pointed out that the “Hail Mary” pass was forbidden eleven centuries prior to the invention of the game of football which speaks volumes about the locals’ concept of time.
The part of the game that is most dispiriting however are the cheerleaders. First of all there are one hundred and six different cheerleader contingents representing each of the religious, familial and tribal loyalties with feuding interests. Then there's the fact that they're covered from head to toe which gives one the sense of how oxy-islamic the whole concept of organized competition here truly is.
The fact that the stands keep disintegrating, which requires additional kickbacks to Halliburton and KBR, who somehow have all the concessions, doesn’t help in the slightest.
Well, to quote Rummy, “it's complicated.”
(add your dream team comments here)

Labels: Civil War, Creative Writing, Iraq, iraq combatants

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(a day in the life of a Baghdad family - Bashir, a young man, enters his family’s apartment)

Bashir: Greetings Father, Praise be to Allah.
Father: Praise be to Allah.
Bashir: It’s hot in here. Did we have any electricity today?
Father: One hour, tops. May Allah rain perversions on the Imperialist American Pigs!Bashir: That sucks. A thousand perversions to the Infidels.
Father: What did you do today?
Bashir: Praise be to Allah, I put out one roadside IED and helped prepare a suicider for a Mosque mission at evening prayers.
Father: Praise be to Allah, but did you stop by the Coalition Forces Outreach Center like your Mother asked you to?
Bashir: Yes, Papa I did.
Father: And did you tell them that death squads have been harassing and threatening your Mother, sisters and our neighbors?
Bashir: Yes Papa I did. They said that they already knew and intended to step up patrols. They were very sympathetic and really quite civil.
(Father and son lock eyes, pause, look away, then look back)
Father: A thousand perversions to the Imperialist Occupiers.
Bashir: Praise be to Allah, a thousand perversions.

Labels: Civil War, Creative Writing, Iraq, obey Mother, Published Letters

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(a day in the life of a Baghdad family - Bashir, a young man, enters his family’s apartment)

Bashir: Greetings Father, Praise be to Allah.
Father: Praise be to Allah.
Bashir: It’s hot in here. Did we have any electricity today?
Father: One hour, tops. May Allah rain perversions on the Imperialist American Pigs!
Bashir: That sucks. A thousand perversions to the Infidels.
Father: What did you do today?
Bashir: Praise be to Allah, I put out one roadside IED and helped prepare a suicider for a Mosque mission at evening prayers.
Father: Praise be to Allah, but did you stop by the Coalition Forces Outreach Center like your Mother asked you to?
Bashir: Yes, Papa I did.
Father: And did you tell them that death squads have been harassing and threatening your Mother, sisters and our neighbors?
Bashir: Yes Papa I did. They said that they already knew and intended to step up patrols. They were very sympathetic and really quite civil.
(Father and son pause, look away, then look back)
Father: A thousand perversions to the Imperialist Occupiers.
Bashir: Praise be to Allah, a thousand perversions.

Labels: Civil War, Creative Writing, obey Mother, Published Letters