(U-WIRE) MANHATTAN, Kan. – Remember back in July when North Korea test-fired some missiles? I bet you were thinking the exact same thing as I was – “Wait … there’s a ‘North’ Korea?”
I just couldn’t get myself to take them seriously. If Kim (a girl’s name) Jong Il can’t keep his missile up for more than 30 seconds, hey, that sounds like a personal problem.
And now Iran’s been having some “personal problems” of its own. Its prez, Ahmad-cetera, has opened a nuclear plant, which means it’s only a matter of time before he gets nukes.
Then the question becomes: will he be able to keep his missile in his plants? Or will he thrust it into the hands of some Islamic terrorist to be delivered through America’s backdoor, resulting in something horrible beyond imagination?
What are we to do about this dual-threat presented by NoKo and Iran, this menacing double entendre? Well, I say we just ignore NoKo, because I’m confident Kim “Watch me jump off the diving board – hey, watch!” Jong Il will make like Fantasia from the Neverending Story and simply disappear if we ignore him. Kim “the Childlike Empress” Jong Il isn’t long for whatever reality it is he currently inhabits.
Iran is the real threat. You know that guy that paces up and down the street wearing a sandwich board with incoherent doomsday prophecies scrawled on it, mumbling a barely discernible refrain of whacked-out conspiracies, while reeking of no-toilet-is-the-boss-of-me incontinence?
No, not your English composition instructor at an anti-war protest, I mean the sincere crazies. That’s Ahmad-cetera’s Iran for you – or at least the highly contrived, but apt, metaphorical equivalent.
The Iranians are a bunch of end-of-times religious fanatics, so diplomacy won’t work with them. I doubt even Henry Kissinger could pull off a “However many virgins Allah is offering you, we’ll double it!”
In Iran, Ahmad-cetera’s radical form of Islam not only wants the next world, it wants to use nukes on this one, turning it into an uninhabitable wasteland filled with deformed mutants, reduced to using a crude barter system in order to secure the necessities of life, all in their quasi-English pidgin-tongue.
Pardon the alarmism, but, yeah, kinda like Texas.
Ahmad-cetera’s Islamism is repelled by the lurid meat market that is the United States. Imagine Islamists from a culture where the dress code is “no shirt, no shoes, no head” laying eyes on your typical party girl with a skirt like a pelvic bandanna. Their anger must burn like the heat of a thousand red hot Jolly Ranchers.
Further infuriating the Islamists, if I may psychologize, is their inability to get some sweet infidel nookie. Their favored pickup line – “You look like a painted whore, inshallah – want to go back to my place and slip into something a lot less comfortable?” – just doesn’t cut it.
That, I think, is the “personal problem” of radical Islam and Ahmad-cetera’s Iran. It’s not the Atreyu-complex of the Childlike Empress Kim, but a response to modernity born of a sense of inferiority and hijab-swaddled sexual repression.
However, given Iran’s nuclear overcompensation and apocalyptic insanity, I’d say this personal problem is global.