So Osama Walks Into This Bar
By Greg Palast
08/15/06 "Information
Clearing House" - --- So, Osama Walks into This Bar,
See? and Bush says, "Whad'l'ya have, pardner?" and Osama says...
But wait a minute. I'd better shut my mouth. The sign here in the
airport says, "Security is no joking matter." But if security's no
joking matter, why does this guy dressed in a high-school marching
band outfit tell me to dump my Frappuccino and take off my shoes?
All I can say is, Thank the Lord the "shoe bomber" didn't carry
Semtex in his underpants.
Today's a RED and ORANGE ALERT day. How odd. They just caught the
British guys with the chemistry sets. But when these guys were about
to blow up airliners, the USA was on YELLOW alert. That's a
"lowered" threat notice.
According to the press office from the Department of Homeland
Security, lowered-threat Yellow means that there were no special
inspections of passengers or cargo. Isn't it nice of Mr. Bush to
alert Osama when half our security forces are given the day off?
Hmm. I asked an Israeli security expert why his nation doesn't use
these pretty color codes.
He asked me if, when I woke up, I checked the day's terror color.
"I can't say I ever have. I mean, who would?"
He smiled. "The terrorists."
America is the only nation on the planet that kindly informs
bombers, hijackers and berserkers the days on which they won't be
monitored. You've got to get up pretty early in the morning to get a
jump on George Bush's team.
There are three possible explanations for the Administration's
publishing a good-day-for-bombing color guidebook.
1. God is on Osama's side.
2. George is on Osama's side.
3. Fear sells better than sex.
A gold star if you picked #3.
The Fear Factory
I'm going to tell you something which is straight-up heresy: America
is not under attack by terrorists. There is no WAR on terror
because, except for one day five years ago, al Qaeda has pretty much
left us alone.
That's because Osama got what he wanted. There's no mystery about
what Al Qaeda was after. Like everyone from the Girl Scouts to Bono,
Osama put his wish on his web site. He had a single demand:
"Crusaders out of the land of the two Holy Places." To translate:
get US troops out of Saudi Arabia.
And George Bush gave it to him. On April 29, 2003, two days before
landing on the aircraft carrier Lincoln, our self-described "War
President" quietly put out a notice that he was withdrawing our
troops from Saudi soil. In other words, our cowering cowboy gave in
whimpering to Osama's demand.
The press took no note. They were all wiggie over Bush's waddling
around the carrier deck in a disco-aged jump suit announcing,
"MISSION ACCOMPLISHED." But it wasn't America's mission that was
accomplished, it was Osama's.
Am I saying there's no danger, no threat? Sure there is: 46 million
Americans don't have health insurance. IBM is legally stealing from
its employees' pension plan and United Airlines has dumped its
pensions altogether. Four-million three-hundred thousand Americans
were injured, made sick or killed by their jobs last year. TXU
Corporation is right now building four monster-sized power plants in
Texas that will burn skuzzy gunk called "lignite." The filth it will
pour into the sky will snuff a heck of a lot more Americans than
some goofy group of fanatics with bottles of hydrogen peroxide.
But Americans don't ask for real protection from what's killing us.
The War on Terror is the Weapon of Mass Distraction. Instead of
demanding health insurance, we have 59 million of our fellow
citizens pooping in their pants with fear of Al Qaeda, waddling to
the polls, crying, "Georgie save us!"
And what does he give us? In my own small town, the federal
government has paid for loading an SUV with .50 caliber machine guns
to watch for an Al Qaeda attack at the dock of the ferry that takes
tourists to the Indian casino in Connecticut. The casino dock is my
town's officially designated "Critical Asset and Vulnerability
Infrastructure Point (CAVIP)." (To find the most vulnerable points
to attack in the USA, Al Qaeda can download a list from the
Department of Homeland Security -- no kidding.)
But that's not all. Bush is protecting us from English hijackers
with a fearsome anti-terrorist tool: the Virginia-class submarine.
The V-boat was originally meant to hunt Soviet subs. But there are
no more Soviet subs. So, General Dynamics and Lockheed Martin have
"refitted" these Cold War dinosaurs with new torpedoes redesigned to
carry counter-terror commandoes. That's right: when we find Osama's
beach house, we can shoot our boys right up under his picnic table
and take him out. These Marines-in-a-tube injector boats cost $2.5
billion each -- and our President's ordered half a dozen new ones.
Lynn Cheney, the Veep's wife, still takes in compensation from
Lockheed as a former board member. I'm sure that has nothing to do
with this multi-billion dollar "anti-terror" contract.
Fear sells better than sex. Fear is the sales pitch for many
lucrative products: from billion-dollar sailor injectors to one very
lucrative war in Mesopotamia (a third of a trillion dollars doled
out, no audits, no questions asked).
Better than toothpaste that makes our teeth whiter than white, this
stuff will make us safer than safe. It's political junk food, the
cheap filling in the flashy tube. What we don't get is safety from
the real dangers: a life-threatening health-care system,
lung-murdering pollution production and a trade deficit with China
that's reducing mid-America to coolie status. Protecting us from
these true threats would take a slice of the profits of the
Lockheeds, the Exxons and the rest of the owning class.
War on Terror is class war by other means -- to keep you from asking
for real protection from true menace, the landlords of our nation
give you fake protection from manufactured dangers. And they remind
you to be afraid every time you fly to see Aunt Millie and have to
give up your hemorrhoid ointment to the underpaid guy in the
bell-hop suit with a security badge.
Oh, hey, you never got the punch line.
So, Osama Walks into This Bar, See? and Bush says, "Whad'l'ya have,
pardner?" and Osama says, "Well, George, what are you serving
today?" and Bush says, "Fear," and Osama shouts, "Fear for
everybody!" and George pours it on for the crowd. Then the
presidential bartender says, "Hey, who's buying?" and Osama points a
thumb at the crowd sucking down their brew. "They are," he says. And
the two of them share a quiet laugh.
Greg Palast is the author of the just-released New York Times
bestseller, ""Armed
Madhouse
":
Who's Afraid of Osama Wolf?, China Floats Bush Sinks, the Scheme to
Steal '08, No Child's Behind Left and other Dispatches from the
Front Lines of the Class War" from which this is adapted. Go to
www.GregPalast.com.
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