Plumb Loco in Palestine

The hell is wrong with these people? They've gone plumb loco if you ask me. All this fussing and fighting over a tiny barren spit of land nobody's ever given a halfway decent crap about until the last fifty years. Not Napoleon. Not Alexander. Not Khan. Nobody. Not Moses. He stalled for what, 40 years, before finally reluctantly pointing it out to what was left of his people. "Somewhere over there. Can't miss it. Look for the really coarse sand."

Even Mister Why Can't You Be More Like Your Brother Jesus ditched the hacienda as soon as his little legs could hold him upright. Disappearing for what, 20 years? Probably kicked back on one of those white sand beaches in Thailand with bare-breasted acolytes serving him round after round of those fruity rum drinks with the tiny fluorescent umbrellas.

It's a godforsaken desert in the middle of freakin' nowhere for christ's sake. You ask any geologist worth his salt and he'll shower you with research that will slice your hide with paper cuts proving there's not oil drop one within 1400 miles of this damn desolate wasteland.

You know what they eat: figs. And humus. The baba ganouch: imported. No wonder everyone is so cranky.

There's gotta be some sort of magnetic weirdness in the Dead Sea driving everybody within shouting distance just plain crazy. It's the only answer. You got young folks blowing themselves up on a daily basis for the sake of some phantom misguided mantra they've been force fed from birth called "patriotism." Then you got an entire race of people willing to wipe another entire race of people off the face of the planet because a couple of flippo units in the name of God committed suicide taking out some of them at the same time. It's insane.

Besides, don't they know we got more important things to worry about right now? We don't need any distractions. We're occupied. Sorry. Bad choice of words there. We're busy. Trying to find one 6' 5" bearded skinny Saudi undergoing dialysis accompanied by a one-eyed Mullah. And may I impress upon you we will find the two of them if we got to flatten the Khyber Pass to parking lot smoothness and then stripe the smna bitch on top of it.

These petty squabbles half a hemisphere away are not helping us at all. Everytime Dad asks for permission to bomb Saddam Hussein back to the Stone Age, they keep bringing up the Goddam West Bank. West Bank. West Bank. West Bank. I'm sick and tired of it. So Colin, you get over there and kick Arafat and Sharon in the ass and get Zinni out of there before he jump starts World War Goddam III, and gas goes up to two bucks a gallon. You got it?

Yes, Mr. President.

Good. Now who the hell are the Rangers playing today? The A's? Again? Christ.

Will Durst thinks Saddam better build a bunker near hell real soon.