We had a dream……and in that dream we saw The Hague’s International Criminal Court receive a formally filed complaint, with no return address, from Osama Bin Laden against former U.S. President George W. Bush and his ex-partner former VP Dick Cheney for crimes against humanity, war of aggression, and war crimes.
Through the haze, we observed The Hague’s ICC judiciary committee collectively scoff at Osama’s audacity in filing such a complaint. In their minds, it all boiled down to the pot calling the kettle black, and there was absolutely no reason for the international courts to get all snarled up in any he-said-he-said finger pointing between a couple of has-beens.
With a snap, snap, and two rolls of the wrist, Bin Laden fully expected enthusiastic obeisance and immediate compliance to his cave issued directives, and The Hague’s dismissive response to his perfectly legitimate complaint proved unacceptable. Our dream rolled along as Bin Laden proceeded to mastermind a black op campaign in true jihadic fashion against his two ‘war-on-terror’ antagonists.
No detail was left to chance and limitless financing oiled the way. Osama knew the well-trained and cash-strapped Blackwater-now-Xe mercenaries were a perfect fit for his rendition mission code named “Pay Back’s a Bitch”.
Xe’s top secret mercenaries covertly commandeered two scrapped RAH-66 Comanche stealth helicopters with flawless precision. Like ninjas, the mercenary crews were dressed in black from head to toe, including full facemask coverage, as each chopper mobilized to pick up its respective cargo before coming together at 0300 hours below the radar in Nevada’s well-guarded Area 51 where the Jeppesen jet was standing by.
Chopper 1’s southern target was the Preston Hollow burb of Dallas to snatch up X-P “W” (see definition below), while Chopper 2 veered north to seize Cheney from his Wyoming ranch.
The Dallas crew had to silently tread undetected through dozens of scattered empty Bud Lite cans before ultimately finding X-P “W” sprawled and snoring on his game room couch, mouth agape and spittle drying into its crusty corners. Barney barely stirred from his curled sleeping position on the floor to glance nonchalantly at the swarming ninjas.
Cheney was discovered in his ranch house dozing on a therapeutic bed in the guest room because apparently it was better for his back. On the nightstand beside him was a heavily dog-earred copy of Orwell’s “Animal Farm” resting in opened, face down position next to a dimly lit pig-shaped lamp capped with a swinish caricature of Cheney’s face in full snout.
Through the haze, we observed The Hague’s ICC judiciary committee collectively scoff at Osama’s audacity in filing such a complaint. In their minds, it all boiled down to the pot calling the kettle black, and there was absolutely no reason for the international courts to get all snarled up in any he-said-he-said finger pointing between a couple of has-beens.
With a snap, snap, and two rolls of the wrist, Bin Laden fully expected enthusiastic obeisance and immediate compliance to his cave issued directives, and The Hague’s dismissive response to his perfectly legitimate complaint proved unacceptable. Our dream rolled along as Bin Laden proceeded to mastermind a black op campaign in true jihadic fashion against his two ‘war-on-terror’ antagonists.
No detail was left to chance and limitless financing oiled the way. Osama knew the well-trained and cash-strapped Blackwater-now-Xe mercenaries were a perfect fit for his rendition mission code named “Pay Back’s a Bitch”.
Xe’s top secret mercenaries covertly commandeered two scrapped RAH-66 Comanche stealth helicopters with flawless precision. Like ninjas, the mercenary crews were dressed in black from head to toe, including full facemask coverage, as each chopper mobilized to pick up its respective cargo before coming together at 0300 hours below the radar in Nevada’s well-guarded Area 51 where the Jeppesen jet was standing by.
Chopper 1’s southern target was the Preston Hollow burb of Dallas to snatch up X-P “W” (see definition below), while Chopper 2 veered north to seize Cheney from his Wyoming ranch.
The Dallas crew had to silently tread undetected through dozens of scattered empty Bud Lite cans before ultimately finding X-P “W” sprawled and snoring on his game room couch, mouth agape and spittle drying into its crusty corners. Barney barely stirred from his curled sleeping position on the floor to glance nonchalantly at the swarming ninjas.
Cheney was discovered in his ranch house dozing on a therapeutic bed in the guest room because apparently it was better for his back. On the nightstand beside him was a heavily dog-earred copy of Orwell’s “Animal Farm” resting in opened, face down position next to a dimly lit pig-shaped lamp capped with a swinish caricature of Cheney’s face in full snout.
On a screen split between 1,400 miles, we continued to watch as the two abduction crews synchronistically blindfolded, bound and gagged their captives, cut off their clothes, administered each an enema and powerful sleeping drugs, outfitted them in diapers then finally jumpsuits - all critical steps specifically designed to prepare the kidnapped ex's for a very long rendition flight to black stop destination number one in Turkey.
As Cheney was tossed aboard the Jeppesen along side an incoherent and moaning X-P “W”, he recoiled even through heavy sedation when he recognized the surrounding voices of their captors as those belonging to his former "VP-only" super secret death squad. Ex-VP Cheney dully realized before losing all consciousness that any pledge of allegiance once given to him by this group of clandestine professionals was forsaken the very moment he stopped paying them.
The rendition rollercoaster ride zigzagged unpredictably for weeks, months, years from one black site hideaway to another - from Turkey to North Korea, then Iran, Iraq, Somalia, eventually winding down in the recently-vacated Guantanamo Bay. And there were plenty of waterboard confessionals to go around.
Bin Laden required every waterboard interrogation to be video taped and was dumbfounded as X-P “W” and Cheney consistently blamed each other for all accused wrong doing, under the compulsively steadfast belief that they were themselves true innocents, without culpability.
Blame shifting video montages full of “It was his fault, not mine!” and “He did it, not me!” were released to the only true news media outlets left in America that Osama Bin Laden trusted to deliver the story straight up: Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. He’d had second thoughts about asking for a ransom because he didn’t think anyone would pay it and frankly he didn’t really need the money.
And then we woke up and realized the Universe has a sense of justice all its own, with a sense of humor to match. So will Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert make us laugh or leave us quivering in our boots when they deliver the latest breaking news of X-P “W" and Cheney’s comeuppance delivered at the hands of their greatest nemesis and Public Enemy #1?
For a little Happy Gitmo, see our ‘Dream Sequence’ November 1, 2008 posting "Will The Lame Duck Be Flying South For The Winter?"
And then we woke up and realized the Universe has a sense of justice all its own, with a sense of humor to match. So will Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert make us laugh or leave us quivering in our boots when they deliver the latest breaking news of X-P “W" and Cheney’s comeuppance delivered at the hands of their greatest nemesis and Public Enemy #1?
For a little Happy Gitmo, see our ‘Dream Sequence’ November 1, 2008 posting "Will The Lame Duck Be Flying South For The Winter?"
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