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April 12, 2003

no harm, no foul

I never understood the fuss over Iraq's Minister of Information, Mohammed Saeed al-What-Thefuck.  Lies cannot injure unless they are believable.  What could be less injurious than a deadpan pie-hole, dilating and contracting, extruding incredible, hummus-scented palaver?  It was harmless stand-up comedy.

Same goes for Rummy.  I thought I'd piss my pants when he implied the post-liberation chaos was not anarchy and looting, but rather, partying and enthusiastic borrowing.  It was brilliant theater.

Minister Mo declared that coalition forces were absent from Baghdad as the television cameras caught a Yankee Doodle drum and fife corps and some kilt-wearing bagpipers parade past a sign reading "Welcome To Baghdad."  Secretary Rummy lectured on the joy of freedom while, on the film clip insert, Iraqi citizens wearing flatbread berets run amok, carting off 8000 B.C. antiquities and what looked to be a modern camel-hair tampon dispenser.

Perhaps I am still in the grip of March Madness, but I say "no harm, no foul."

©  2003 by the beastmaster