RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S RABBINICAL REFLECTION #15 (5/7/2011): Dead! Dead! Dead!
aired May 7, 2011 on Dave’s Gone By. Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bSe5fXOC018
Shalom, Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon, with a Rabbinical Reflection for the week of May 7th, 2011.
YAHOOOOOOO! Dammit. I am writing this while still under the euphoria, the magic spell of the big news on Sunday night: Bin Laden…been liquidated. Public enemy number one – and let’s hope when they came for him, he made number two!
This animal, this bastard, this ARAB, who created more chaos than a Loehmann’s white sale, has finally been found and put to death. It took nine and a half years. I don’t know why it took nine-and-a-half years. A six-foot-four, middle-aged man with a beard and a dialysis machine roaming around caves for a decade, sending out audio tapes – and we don’t know where he is? George Bush couldn’t find him, but then again, George Bush couldn’t find his ass in his underpants.
But finally, after thousands of days, hundreds of American casualties, billions of tax dollars, it took just one bullet. To kill the man responsible for four planes, a truck bomb, a dozen suicide squads, and 3000 bodies in lower Manhattan – one bullet: Allah not so akbar.
Was bin Loser the tip of the iceberg? Of course. Terror cells are like pimples; you squeeze off the head, a little pus oozes out, but an hour later, there’s a new head on it. So certainly, we must remain vigilant, and we shouldn’t be surprised if this strike at the heart of international terrorism only redoubles the efforts of the bad guys to be bad guys.
But for this window of time, let us be joyful, and grateful, and even a little giddy. This is Disneyland, Lotto, the Super Bowl and a Lady Gaga concert rolled into one dirty turban. Now, I know, on Passover, we spill a bissel wine from our glasses because we are not supposed to rejoice when our enemy suffers. But COME ON.
In fact, if I am less than completely ecstatic, it’s only because bin Laden did not suffer. In 30 seconds he went from sitting around his million-dollar mansion to taking a slug in the noggin’. Too quick. Too easy. This is the kind of guy you shoot in the foot, then in the knee, then in the hip, then in the arm, then you cut off his fingers, then you pull out his eyes, then you press his face on a Forman grill, then you cut off his ears – and then you start torturing him.
If it sounds like I’ve spent too much time thinking about these things, you’re right – nine-and-a-half years. Thanks to our good, close friends in Pakistan. “Osama who? Al Qaeda what? Nawwww… not in our country. You must be thinking of Canada.” Let me tell you something: venture just another mile or two from Islamabad, and I will bet you find Jimmy Hoffa, Natalee Holloway, Amelia Earhardt and my left blue sock that never made it out of the dryer.
Pakistan has a lot to answer for – and not just `cause their spicy food makes you crap blood. They could have helped us; they could have delivered Osama bin Laden to Washington D.C., put a bow in his hair and dropped him on the White House lawn. Instead, we have to sneak in like Jethro and that Israeli chick on NCIS. After it was over, then we call the Paki prime minister and say, “Oh, by the way, that library book you had out? Wink-wink. The one you said you couldn’t find, that you already returned, and that the dog ate? We came and got it. And the next time we ask if you have one of our DVD’s, you better rush the return box or you lose all borrowing privileges. Have a nice goddamn day.”
I do have to wonder – with everybody dying to see the pictures and the proof – why did the Navy Seals dispose of bin Laden so quickly? Obama said his body was prepared according to Islamic tradition – although where they got 100 pounds of camel dung on a Sunday night is beyond me. But really, did we have to give bin Laden a respectful cleanup? Of all people – we should have rubbed his lips with pork and hung a Jewish star around his neck.
And beyond that, we could’ve put him on display! Maybe a Pay-Per-View special with Geraldo Rivera; every hour he reveals another inch of the corpse. Vegas would go crazy. But what do we do? We bury the him at sea. If we wanted bin Laden to drown, just put him in a tank and let the families of 9/11 victims piss on him for an hour. Why deny America the satisfaction of seeing our mortal enemy vanquished? Instead, we have to take the word of the White House, the military, the DNA tests – and I’m willing to. But if there are people out there who deny the Holocaust and disbelieve that we ever put a man on the moon, how the hell are we supposed to make a bunch of Jihad jugheads believe their martyr didn’t really live out his life playing pinochle in Morocco?
I know. I’m being negative. It comes with the Jewitory. If there was ever a time to leap up and do a hora of delight, this is it. But there are still too many questions, too many terrorists, too many memories.
Osama, you ugly dead son of a bitch, you’re with your 72 virgins now. Bet you never figured they’d all be men. And they all look like Gary Busey. And they all have razor blades on the ends of their shmeckels. Let the eternal raping begin.
This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches. Vengeance is mine saith New York.
(c) 2011 TotalTheater. All rights reserved.
–> https://davesgoneby.net/?p=30740
Pictured from top: John Ruane, UNC Mirror newspaper, Osama bin Laden, 2011 staff of the UNC Mirror (Dave – front row, second from left; Benjamin Welch – back row, third from right), Bob Cudmore, Tony Award, John Ruane’s “The Wizards of Spin,” War Horse, Shona Reppe in Potato Needs a Bath.
