Monday, November 27, 2006

I am Palestinian!

I am Palestinian.

From the dawn of civilization, men have behaved cruelly towards one another -- raping, pillaging, stealing, oppressing, polluting, exploiting, profiteering, and so forth. This list of atrocities is endless. How are we to synthesize the suffering of humans? How can it be expres
sed as a single word? A word, indeed, that tugs at the heart and rests in the bowels of our collective consciousness?

Let me reveal an incident that happened in the food
co-op yesterday. I was perusing the shelves looking for some ginger Soy-Moo to relieve a distressing gastric disorder, and realized they were out of stock. (Well, that's capitalism for you.) But I saw a glimmer in a floor crevice. What is this? Mouse droppings! I was tempted to try them because they were pre-digested and would therefore not be a burden on my constitution. But sadly, they were animal products.

Or are they? The co-op mice, I realized, subsist on organic food. So, their feces are, strictly speaking, organic. And, to make matters even
better, mice feces are free -- the way everything ought to be.

I gave in to temptation, and knelt over. Then, I crouched on
to all fours, lowered my head, and dragged my tongue on the floor -- and with the adhesion of epoxy, the droppings clung to my tongue. After moistening them with my salivary excretions, I swallowed. This was ecstasy. I immediately curled into a fetal position, emitted flatulence, and scoured the crevice for more feces.

And then I heard a voice. It was the store manager, commanding me to get up. Not even in Hitler's was there as grotesque a barbarian as the store manager. I stared back, from the floor. My beard was smudged with mouse excreta and my bottom was in a pool of some days-old spilled dairy product. I ran my tongue through the fecal matter in my teeth. And the store manager was violating my very being by denying my most basic human rights.

I started to tremble. My blood pressure rose. A liquid passed from my anal cavity. And I rose. Like a warrior with nothing left to lose, I rose. And I stared at Hitler. And I stared at the accumulating brownshirt customers. And as I summoned my every last ounce of strength, I felt invulnerable. The air was thick with tension and the aroma of my bodily excretions. And at once, I threw my head back, and raised my clenched fists and said softly: "I am Palestinan"

"Yes, I am Palestinian."


I wailed to the world: "SAY IT AGAIN! OHHHH YE-E-ESSS!! I. AM. PALESTINIAN!"

The Zionists of the food co-op were defeated! I threw off my shackles and in my triumphant delirium, I projectile vomited my digested feces onto the fresh produce. With stomach acids dripping from my beard, I exited from the food co-op, promising to never, never, stop fighting.

I am Palestinian!


Red Tulips said...

May allah bless you with the courage to continue fighting the good fight.

I know that those at the Food Coop must have been inspired by the line you drew in the sand. Never surrender!

Baconeater said...

You were lucky the Zionist store manager didn't shoot you to get the genocide numbers up.

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