Here at the BP, we strive not only to express our disenchantment with the state of our war ravaged planet, but also to offer some sensible solutions every now and again. “Neither whines nor dissimulations,” our motto here.
To that end, our humble abode hosted a conference last night attended by many of our more mischievous, perverted inner children best kept out of sight most of the time.
The subject was to be aporia. That, of course, immediately raised the ire of the more Americanized BP so enamored of the good old fashioned American common sense, ingenuity and straightforwardness. Oh, how we yearn for its reappearance.
Any how, he shouted, “To hell with the pompous elitist Greco-French cow dung. You mean Clusterfuck.”
The more bureaucratically inclined wheeler dealer with a propensity to overindulge in the asinine practice of offering meaningless acronyms then suggested a compromise which was developed to serve as the title of this post.
An observer of the seedier aspects of the global life started the proceedings with a report on the developments in the
The flourishing of sites such as the Saudi Mistress, and the BDSM Haifa, and the Iranian Mistress and Slave among others are clear indications, he argued, of a new phase of enlightenment, progress, and a much welcomed sign of cultural renaissance in the region all thanks to American presence.
The monarchically inclined BP with many fond memories of his years of significant access to the highest floors of His Majesty’s Royal Equestrian facilities then immediately pointed to those mischievous Brits as the invisible force behind the trend.
“That’s what they do best. Part of their Master Plan! They go out of their way to spread diseases first; then they offer penicillin while riling up the clergy and artificially creating new religions. And as you are busy expressing gratitude perpetually, they run away with all the oil.”
“Shame on the Brits!”
“Long live the King!”
The voice of our new friend Amir then could be heard in the conference room yelling: “Shame on all of you, BP bozos.” [Thus we acknowledge our mischief in advance]
The conference then degenerated for a long time into a cacophony during which the various typically Iranian unruly mini-BPs tried to make sense of the secret meaning of the disembodied voice in all sorts of creative ways. Yes the middle always has a middle!
The conference suddenly fell silent after spontaneously recollecting Mr. Ledeen’s admonishment: “those Iranians, always busy casting runes and reading entrails! They are nothing like us.”
Anyways, I won’t bore you with all the details. The long and short of it remains the following proposal.
It was decided that it is best to have some native ally, a Mullah, an ex Ba’athist, a Latin, or South American death squad operative or assassin old- friend of Negroponte, some Shi’ia killer, reformed ex Usama type jihadist, a thuggish attorney/blogger or some other red blooded promoter of decency, culture of life or religion of love—some torture peddler not unlike Joseph Farah, or Ann Coulter—one or all should be tasked with contacting some of these dominatrices and recruiting them into the war effort.
These liberated women might be persuaded to close their porn sites and go set up shop in assorted well funded, expansive facilities in the more unruly areas of the region. Their act of doing what they best enjoy doing might give all of us some breathing space.
Torture plain and simple with plenty of wanton sex initiated by competent, sadistic Middle Eastern women might go a long way in keeping Krauthammer & Co. content finally; even possibly helping resolve whatever longstanding issues they might have with the Arab presence in the universe.
The Christian fundamentalist could also sigh a bit more comfortably. Less porn for the believers in the world and more torture for the evildoers! They too might finally disappear into their own world doing whatever it is that loving Christians do as they wait for the rapture.
The Sunni murderers might get some sense spanked into them. They might finally get their aggression under control as Americans finally return home.
Who knows, perhaps, even one of those foreign fighters might decide—on the threshold of a much too postponed orgasm—to spill the beans about the location of the missing WMDs, the dirty bombs, Usama’s navy, or those suitcase mini-nukes we have all been dreading.
The US Senate might also finally settle the question of what to do with the infamous MEK. No shortage of driven, commanding women in that organization.
The CIA then should be called upon to organize a competently run project-- for a change-- aimed at distracting Mr. Ahmadi Nejad and that much vaunted mysterious force, Hojatieh, from pursuing the Bomb. Surely it must be easy since any support for a rapid expansion of Western influences anywhere in the globe for them is tantamount to having successfully helped spread tyranny, misery and evil.
Who knows, they might even decide to launch their own counter-intelligence operations aimed at capturing video tapes of what goes on in those Middle Eastern torture-sex dungeons for their own Operation Pornography aimed at helping along the return of the missing Mahdi.
Remember, one of their leading ideologues, Mr. Abassi, always responds to the charge of Mullocracy with the countercharge of Pornocracy!
In the meanwhile, with Ahmadi Nejad distracted (or preferably permanently suffocated),
the Europeans might reach some settlement with the Islamic regime thus averting another bloodbath for all involved.
Consequently, with the prospects of massive destruction out of the way, the Arabs and Israelis could go on killing each other one or two at a time indefinitely while the rest of us hold our breath or till such time as the last olive tree has been uprooted from the region.
Myself, Amir, various Anons, tens of thousands of Iranian bloggers, and millions more of our other compatriots shall continue our endless bickering about who did what to whom and when for another hundred years while this murderous Islamic regime destroys what’s left of the country one day at a time.
Most of the rest of you then get to go your own merry ways saving some other tormented nation, animal or mineral. We’ll continue, of course, to hang on to Dr. Zin.
Dr. Ledeen, on the other hand, such as he is, will remain yours.
Finally, the Almighty too might decide one day soon to call it a day and move on to re-attempt this miserably failed insanity from day one on some other planet.