Column #111 Osama Lama Ding Dong
November 1, 2001
Osama Lama Ding Dong
I was intrigued recently when I read that Taliban Foreign Minister Maulvi Wakil Ahmed Mutawakil suggested a little duel to resolve the current world crisis. “I will propose that Mr. Blair and Mr. Bush should take Kalashnikovs and come to a specified place where (the Taliban leader) Mullah Mohammed Omar will appear… to determine who will run.” But I was also left scratching my head. I thought Kalashnikov was that guy who danced around in tights.
So, like any self-respecting man of the 21st Century who doesn’t own an encyclopedia, I punched “Kalashnikov” into google.com and clicked my way to the following reference, crafted by some Irish lad named Paul Daly, who clearly has been dipping into the sauce:
Shocking new evidence which may or may not have been prepared by a team of chimpanzees shows that children who have a working knowledge of algebra are much less likely to know how to operate a Kalashnikov rifle (they also get beaten up on a regular basis but that is beside the point). This may not seem to make sense… but if you turn it backwards, you will find that children who are able to operate a Kalashnikov rifle are less likely to have a working knowledge of algebra. They are also less likely to be regularly attacked, but this probably has more to do with them being unable to blow a hole the size of Kate Moss in their attacker’s abdomen than not being able to ward them off by brandishing a quadratic equation. That is not to say that quadratic equations aren’t scary.
So, a Kalashnikov is some kind of gun. A really big gun, the AK-47. What the Taliban are proposing is that Tony Blair and George W. Bush hop a flight to Kabul, stand back-to-back with Mullah Mohammed Omar, pace off the distance among the rocks and start firing away. It seems to me to be an incredibly civilized solution. The only thing I find slightly odd, considering that the concept was put forward by Maulvi Wakil Ahmed Mutawakil, is that his name spells “um vikud wataam kwaam hillel,” when you rearrange the letters. According to Marsha Loche, this means “I suck the big Mullah” in Hebrew.
There are however, two problems with the proposal. First, it’s pretty much impossible to get a flight to Kabul. I know this for a fact because I tried to book one. I’m serious. If you don’t believe me just find your way to orbitz.com and try it yourself. You can’t get a flight to anywhere in Afghanistan. It seems the airports have all mysteriously disappeared.
The second problem, particularly if you value Paul Daly’s view of the world, is that neither Tony Blair nor George W. Bush is qualified for the job. This is, of course, as reported only last week by one of the highly regarded Fleet Street tabloids, because they both did “jolly good” in high school algebra class. At least Blair did. If you didn’t see this article I strongly encourage you to check it out. It ran directly opposite the Page 3 girl, Cindy, in the November 8 issue of The Sun.
Anyway, I flunked algebra. And even if Tony Blair and George W. Bush had too, the Free World can not afford to risk sending its leaders, personally, into battle. That is why I wrote a letter to the Taliban Foreign Minister proposing that I take their place. I haven’t heard back yet but I think that I could make a pretty good showing, as long as guns or bombs or other things that could hurt me really bad aren’t involved. Does anyone out there know if there are spiders in Afghanistan?
Here’s what I wrote:
Dear Foreign Minister Mutawakil:
Good morning to you, kind sir and slime bucket. I am writing on behalf of Prime Minister Tony Blair and President George W. Bush to accept your offer of a duel. As they each have prior commitments, including but not limited to reducing your country to pea gravel, they have asked that I appear in their stead. Please notify me of the date and “specified place” for the contest and your acceptance of two conditions. First, my weapon of choice is darts. Second, I would request that you arrange for a nice hotel room with a Jacuzzi and some hot women that aren’t dressed up in sheets.
Respectfully yours and happy bye-bye,
Now, if you’re still with me – if you’ve actually waded 629 words into this column to find the first mention of our sport – you must be asking yourself: ” why the HELL do I read this crap?” Well, that’s a good question. Probably you should have your head examined.
Those of you who actually know me – who have seen me in action at the line – are surely thinking: “whoa baby, I better get a gas mask and fast.” Well, you needn’t worry.
That’s because I’m going to send Phil Taylor! No. No. That’s a lie. He’s angry at me anyway for making motor home jokes. Besides, if I was going to send a ringer, these days Alan Warriner would be the better bet.
But I don’t need a ringer. That’s because I’ve gotta plan.
The thing is, and I am terribly sorry about this, now that I’ve written 804 words, I realize that I was wrong to have even started this column. That’s because I can’t actually TELL you the plan.
According to Tom Brokaw and others who have received envelopes marked “Anthrax Spores Enclosed” and opened them, Osama and the Mullah monitor everything that happens everywhere in the world from the high tech equipment that they keep in their Super Secret Cave of Rocks. If you can believe Sandi Cain, it’s possible that they even read darts magazines. So, I have to be careful.
Therefore, in the immortal words of another of the world’s great leaders, Richard Nixon, who also had a secret plan — a plan to end the war in Vietnam — I ask that you to “just trust me.”
All I can divulge now is that my plan to end the war in Afghanistan is a two-phase tactical operation. Designed to soften up the enemy, Phase One phase will involve the insertion of a special force of Page 3 girls trained in a new and improved use of the quadratic equation. At the appropriate time, Phase Two will commence as I emerge from my Jacuzzi to go toe-to-toe with the Mullah in the mother of all Thermal Nuclear Cricket matches.
From my vantage point here in the Dartoid War Room I can already see the result: Osama and the Mullah and all their scum-sucking buddies retreating over the mountain tops, their turbans and silly-ass beards aflame, with Hammerheads sticking out of their noses and algebra books shoved up their butts. That’ll teach the bastards to kill thousands of innocent people and cause darts league matches to be postponed all over America.
If I am successful the Evil Doers will be no more.
If I am unsuccessful, well… then I guess you won’t be reading 1,200 more words of this crap next month.
From the Field,
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