Dear Editor:
In every disaster, there’s opportunity. As a result of 9/11, President Bush (usurping Congress’ role to declare war) committed American taxpayers to a lifelong purse-emptying “war on terror.” That mean that gringos will be abusing foreigners in their homes all over the world for years to come, thereby creating a steady supply of future terrorists. So far, Israelis have been the target of suicide bombers — Palestinians unable to forgive them for driving them out of their homes, orchards, towns and villages and making them refugees and paupers. But since we are Israel’s principle friend and bankroller (actually the only one: civilized folk shun the Jewish State), we can soon expect psychologically-maimed, broken young men with no future, dying of hatred showing up in our midst. That’s a sad state of affairs, to be sure, one that we wish we hadn’t brought on ourselves, but, to be frank, now that we have, it’s good for us at Terrorism Unlimited.
In retail, our best-seller this season celebrating the Prince of Peace is a coat-of-mail. Not a medieval knight’s 50 pounds of clunky armor, no our lightweight Terrorsuit is made of a patented laminated cotton, worn like long johns under a regular garment. Cotton? To stop shrapnel? Yes, Spaniards who first encountered Inca warriors told of them going into battle wearing padded cotton breastplates. To guard the head we have a fashionable but nail-stopping hood made from the same epoxy-cotton laminate. And for the fact we’ve devised an attractive veil, of faux silver or gold mesh. Thus protected, the consumer can walk around and gawk at all the junk in a crowded mall to his heart’s content.
An important part of our business is Take Someone With You. Now, far be it from us to dash an idealist’s belief in the goodness of human nature, but, chances are, the old geezer dozing on the park bench is not serenely engaged in forgiving his enemies, but dreaming of revenge. The motive could be as simple as a grudge (the s.o.b. never paid back the hundred bucks he borrowed), or perhaps a desire for political martyrdom. Recently we handled a case of an immigrant with cancer who wanted to settle a score in the old country. We did it all for him: arranged passage, provided contacts and supplied the expertise and wherewithal for the client to satisfy his last wish.
Prospects for growth are rosy. Our experience has shown that a lot of people, terminally-ill but still ambulant, looking back on the deferred gratifications or blasted hopes of their lives, yearn to “do some good ere they die,” and would gladly remedy it all in a flash, so long as they Took With Them some lowlife. I, myself, when my time comes, why, I wouldn’t mind at all sidling up to Ariel Sharon with a bomb strapped next to the colostomy bag.
T. Weed