A Grim(m) Middle East fairy tale

http://www.yellowtimes.com/article.php?sid=163&mode=thread&order=0

YellowTimes.org, Wednesday, March 13, 2002

A Grim(m) Middle East fairy tale

By Yusuf Agha
YellowTimes.org Columnist (United States)

Once upon a time there lived in the ancient city of Gotham, a young writer
named Tom who wrote a column for Ye Olde York Times. One day, Little Tom's
editor sent him on an assignment to Arab countries to discover why - oh why!
- Muslims the world over were so angry with the U.S.

Now Tom traveled through countries far and wide and was surprised that he
was treated magnanimously by his hosts. Sadly, on his return, Tom had no
story to tell, and could not fathom why he intrinsically hated his hosts so.
Try as hard as he did, he could not explain to his editor that, despite his
heavily expensed trip, ³Tommy didn't have a song to sing.²
So, truthful boy that he was, Tom went to his editor to 'fess up that he
didn't have a story to tell. His editor was very angry with Tom. "You fool!"
the editor said. "What have you done? We needed an anti-Arab story to
increase circulation. Now we don't have anything."

Tom felt guilty and sad. He went home to sulk but was glad he had spilled
the beans to his editor.

The morning after, when he stepped outside, Tom saw an amazing sight. A
gigantic beanstalk, reaching far into the clouds, had grown overnight. Being
very curious, Little Tom climbed the plant and was soon to find himself in
the clouds. 

To his amazement, Tom saw a huge Arabian castle. When he walked inside and
found himself standing in front of a huge desk, his curiosity increased.
Suddenly a thundering voice rang out: "Fee fi fo fum! I smell the blood of a
Yankee man!" It was a giant Saudi prince!

Tom was smart and quick on his feet; he told the Saudi prince that he had an
original, Never-Thought-of-Before idea. "Why don't you exchange land for
peace in Palestine?" he asked. "Land for peace?" the prince said, astounded.
"Have you been looking up my drawers? For I have exactly the same plan right
here in my pocket!"

After dinner, the giant Saudi prince fell asleep with his feet propped up on
the table. In a little while, his thundering snoring echoed throughout the
castle and Tom saw the golden plan on the table and put it in his pocket. He
ran down the path over the clouds, and began to descend as quickly as
possible. "This plan," thought Tom, "is going to be my Golden Goose!"

When he finally reached the ground, he found his editor waiting for him. The
poor man had been frightened by the giant beanstalk. When he saw Tom come
down triumphantly holding up the plan, he burst out crying: "Where have you
been, my dear boy? Do you want me to die worrying? What kind of a plan is
this? What . . ." Tom did not let him finish, and cheerfully dashed off to
write his column about the Land-for-Peace plan which was published in Ye
Olde York Times the very next day.

Meanwhile, back in Never-Never land, the Wicked Old Witch Ariel had
imprisoned Chairman Thrushbeard in an old wire cage called Ramalla. Every
day, the Witch would force Thrushbeard to lure more of his people into old
wire cages, and she would feel Thrushbeard's fingers out to feel how much he
had capitulated under pressure.

But to the Witch's dismay, the Palestinians were fighting back like The
Straw, the Coal, and the Bean. Every day their suicide-bomber friends would
throw some of the Wicked Old Witch's people into the Witch's own huge,
bubbling cauldron. This made the Witch very unhappy, and she reacted with
barrage after barrage of gunfire and mortar shell, specially targeting
pregnant mothers and unborn children.

But the Wicked Old Witch was not the only one who was reacting to the
situation in Never-Never land.

In the Great White Palace on The Golden Mountain, Pied W. Piper's National
Security advisors had read him the plan, and it made him happy because it
circumvented the UN resolutions which granted the people of Palestine a true
home. He was desperately seeking for a group of creatures who would follow
him and support the plan.

Pied W. wanted to send his sidekick to the Middle East to sell his war
against the Big Bad Wolf, but Dick van Wrinkle was fast asleep in his
cave-cum-bunker. This was the same cave used by the secret government that
Dick had hidden from the 101 Daschelle-mations on the Hill.

Luckily for Piedy, there lived in the
land-whose-streets-are-paved-with-gold, a Little Lamb (whose fleece was
white as snow) - and everywhere that Piedy went, the Lamb was sure to go.
The Lamb - really a wolf in sheep's clothing - greedily accepted the plan,
bleating quite loudly in agreement with his characteristic "Blairrrr,
Blairrrr." Piedy was glad that like Jill, the Lamb came fumbling after.

Also luckily for Pied W., there were the three blind mice, whose spinal
appendages he had cut off with a large carving implement, which had the
letters "A.I.D² carved on it. Pharaoh Rat was the first to come to visit him
in the Great White Palace. Unknowingly on a high from sniffing rat poison,
he gleefully accepted the plan.

King "Air Jordan" came next. He was called ³Air² because, unlike his father,
whenever he opened his mouth he uttered nothing of substance. And finally,
the Mush-rat announced that he would support the plan, because he knew if he
did not, Pied W. would stop his supply of cheese, and even strong-arm him by
sicking Tabaqui the Jackal from the neighboring Jungle Book country on him.

But nobody had accounted for the Three Bears. When Libyan Bear heard of the
plan, he said, "Who's stealing land from MY Arab people?" And Lebanese Bear
said, "Who's stealing land from my Arab people?" And Iranian Bear said -
well, you must know what he said.

The Afghan Bears were also unhappy, but Rumsfeldstiltskin blasted them with
thermobaric bombs, and how they felt did not matter at all.

The Three Little Men in the [European] Wood were not too willing to follow
blindly either. Putin'head Wilson was unhappy because Pied W. was huffing
and puffing and blowing his Georgian house down. The other Little Men were
unhappy because their huts of straw and wood were threatened by global
warming and unilateral tariffs on construction steel.

In the meantime, Wicked Witch Ariel kept murdering more Palestinians with
U.S.-made F-16s and rocket attacks, and continued to gobble down their
Gingerbread houses. The Palestinians continued to retaliate with stone
throwing and suicide attacks. Then suddenly and surprisingly, Little Jack
Powell, sitting in his corner, eating his Kurds and whey, put in his thumb
and rebuked the Old Witch for killing too many Palestinians. The plan came
to a screeching halt and it was decided to send The Little Zin Soldier back
to Israel to negotiate a peace.

So, Pied W. went around with his Little Lamb (whose fleece was white as
snow) and the three blind mice following him chanting ³squeak, squeak,² but
nothing much came out of the plan.

Piedy decided to concentrate on sharpening his axes-of-evil, with the aim of
chopping off the head of the Big Bad Saddam Wolf, pursuing a plan put
forward by Miss Rice Pudding, who was actually a reincarnation of
Golda-locks Meir. He discussed the plan with the Seven Dwarfs in the
Security Council, and the Dopey Secretary General who had closed his eyes at
the wars around him and was singing in the rain to celebrate his recently
acquired Peace prize.

Little Tom was disappointed that the plan began to fizzle out. Tom, who
stole the peace plan and away had run, cursed his bad luck and wished that
he had discovered Aladdin's lamp instead! Grudgingly, and with greater
hatred festering in his heart, he went back to his task of creating "idiot
press critique [and] engag[ing] in cheap Arab-bashing," and came up with
more articles about Muslim rage, to the joyous delight of his editors.

But fairy tales aren't supposed to have unhappy endings. So, the Zionist
league is contemplating nominating Little Tom for the Nobel Prize for
Fiction, so that he may live happily ever after.

Fe Fi Ho Hum! 

Yusuf Agha encourages your comments: yagha@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

YellowTimes.org encourages its material to be reproduced, reprinted, or
broadcast provided that any such reproduction must identify the original
source, http://www.YellowTimes.org. Internet web links to
http://www.YellowTimes.org are appreciated. 


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