On Saturday, Cairo time, protesters broke into the headquarters of the Egyptian State Security, the SSI, (Motto: "No secret too big or too small") and stole files on various persons of interest. It must be a moment of purest OMG to find your own file, but anyway.
They have made some discoveries about the SSI including the fact that Casual Friday definitions varied from branch to branch and sometimes was not very casual. But the discovery that has caused the most consternation is that the SSI practised torture (although they seem to have had the kind of guys who didn't need much practise).
In a completely imaginary statement John Bolton said "Fucking A!" just before his moustache disappeared up his nose and tried to disable him from inside his head. However the internal killing lasers did their job.
George W Bush opening a Wal Mart in Reykjavik, Iceland in a completely fictive moment noted "Throw the damn ball, you bum, hah hah, hah"
Similarly, Condaleeza Rice would only slam the lid of her piano and glare at this reporter, when questioned at her Fortress of Solitude in Antarctica.
But in a marginally more tangible world this sets up one of the type of foreign diplomacy moments known as a Schrödinger's cat moment in the Political Science and Dwarf Throwing bar of the Old Entomologist.
To whit: When Egypt was torturing their folks, they were our friends, then in the recent ructions when they were torturing their folks they were not our friends and should just move on. It would've been nice if they could have left a tin opener behind when they went, but we all know how difficult moving is.
Thus the state of Egypt is dependent upon when you look at it, and the mere act of looking at it changes the state. And, like a stone tossed into the trousers of time, the ripples have spread outwards and even unto the blogosphere where hardened keyboard commandos have been seen weeping over the self imposed contradictions.
Like water seeping into their parent's basement they are slowly beginning to see a glimmer of the problems of being BFF with arseholes as well as learning a lesson about reading packets before you eat what is in them.
Who should they declare to be Mubarak in Wisconsin and why have Nabisco changed the flavour of cheetos? Could it be that the daddy men were wrong about Our Partners in The War on Terror?
And could it be that the Sheep Poo for Citrus Trees packet is too, too similar.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
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8 comments:
Speaking of metaphors, I learn (h/t M. Bouffant) that "Saudi Arabia's worst nightmare [...] is now casting its long shadow over the House of Saud."
But it's not over until the Fascist octopus has sung its swan song.
Sadly, I no longer accept Obama's word that we don't torture anymore.
Because I can't believe anything he says anymore.
~
I never torture metaphors before first receiving enthusiastic consent.
I don't think we were wrong about our partners, I think we knew exactly what was going on; we not only read the packet, we wrote the damn thing.
You know, Walker SHOULD have sent the National Guard in so that people putting marble-ruining tape on walls would have been shot.
It's important to remember that at any time my man Walker (or Muammar, as he prefers I call him when we're alone) can unleash the power of his WANG!!
(What? That's what the Wisconsin Air National Guard is called, smartass. The 115th Fighter Wing flies F-16s out of Truax. He could be putting ordnance on Union Thugs in fifteen minutes. Just think about it.)
But Mikey, that would damage the building! God knows it's been tape besmirched enough
Hey, dood, if you're going to make an authoritarian dystopia, you gotta break a few eggs...
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