Sunday, May 22, 2011

‘See Ya,’ Bin Laden – Trump’s Skunked – X-Rated

The End -- Mr. Gripes, awoken at the ungodly hour of 5:45 by his always insistent cat Seamus, stumbles into the living room, and clicks on the television. Half-asleep and bleary-eyed, he does notice along the ESPN ‘crawl‘ at the bottom, words far removed from the normal sports lingo: ‘dead,’ ‘Bin Laden,’ ‘raid,’ ‘American forces.’ Wait a damn minute. The brain begins to comprehend one of the great surprises of his life: America, ridiculed, maligned and laughed at for a decade, has located and killed the bastard.

Mr. Gripes couldn’t have cared less that two dozen Navy SEALs entered that house and shot an unarmed Bin Laden in the head. Mr. Gripes had not forgotten the 3,000 civilians, including Muslims, simply going to work at the World Trade Center, who were murdered by that monster. Good riddance, and, with all due respect to my Buddhist friend Alan R., may Bin Laden burn in hell.

A few days later, a whining Michael Moore on CNN complained that Bin Laden should have been arrested and brought to trial, rather than killed. He asserted a trial would have demonstrated to the world that ‘we are different than the terrorists.’

Mr. Moore has some nerve suggesting that this country, by eliminating Bin Laden, is somehow on an equivalent moral ground as Al Qaeda. Michael Moore has not only enjoyed enormous freedom doing nothing but being critical of America, but he’s become a multi-millionaire in doing so. He can complain about this country until the cows come home, yet no one lifts a finger to stop him. Michael Moore is a very fortunate man to live in the United States.

If he were to reside in China, or Russia, or Singapore, or Thailand, or Vietnam, or anywhere in Africa or the Middle East, for examples, he’d be whisked off to jail immediately and harshly. Dissent is simply not tolerated in most places.

In China, they’d lock him up with that poor artist who was arrested two months ago, and whose relatives still don’t know where he’s been taken. Mr. Moore would be sweating off that rather commodious behind of his picking mica flecks out of some rock pile in Manchuria for 25 years.

Besides, can you imagine the circus that a trial of Bin Laden would devolve into? It’d be 15 years before there would be a verdict. And, knowing how the justice system operates here, it wouldn’t surprise Mr. Gripes in the least if Bin Laden’s lawyer, some leftover from the ‘60’s who defended Abby Hoffman, asserted that Bin Laden wasn’t read his Miranda rights, and Bin Laden gets off. 

Those SEALs did kill Bin Laden, but obviously took pains not to hurt the nineteen children living in the compound. The women there, who could very well have possessed information about the Al Qaeda network, were nevertheless neither harmed nor imprisoned [except for one who resisted]. You know why? So those children, certainly already traumatized by what had transpired, could be comforted by their mothers. Mothers and children remained together. Think about that for a moment. That’s a policy of a civilized and humane nation.

The gloating Bin Laden, who could barely conceal his glee that he killed 3,000 Americans, in his megalomania figured he was going to get away with it.  Mr. Moore, come down off your holier-than-thou perch and join the rest of us who celebrated raucously and joyously the death of this evil malignant son-of-a-bitch, OK? As Mr. Obama said, the world is now a safer place. 

Oh, Those Clever Devils…. Donald Trump. One moment the greatest thing since sliced bread to Republicans, the next instant he’s deader than a Gloucester codfish that’s been left out in the sun. What happened? Generally, Mr. Gripes is chary of casting aspersions on political strategists, like David Axelrod, and he’s reticent about denigrating the President of the United States, but I just have a hunch they laid a big trap for The-Mouth-Whose-Casinos-Went-Belly-Up.

Here’s how the Machiavellian mind of Mr. Gripes – and any competent strategist -- works:

Mr. Obama holds a press conference to refute definitively the tiresome and noisome question of his birthplace. A more informative birth certificate from a hospital in Honolulu did the trick – no more nonsense about his being born in Kenya, and being spirited back to Hawaii to claim American citizenship. Mr. Trump, who certainly must have suspected this whole fairy tale of the President’s African birth was indeed a canard, acknowledged that Barack Obama was a naturally born American. Then, he actually took credit for ferreting out the truth.

OK, Mr. Trump did take a hit, but not a terrible one at this point. Not yet. Here’s where it gets interesting: Mr. Obama, upon releasing the certificate, demonstrates some petulance and annoyance – perhaps feigned – that’s he’s wasting his time with a trivial issue like this. He asserts, “I’ve got better things to do.” He repeats, almost indignantly, “I’ve got better things to do.”

[An aside: of course, within a couple of hours, his next ‘better thing to do’ that day was to catch a plane to Chicago and appear on Oprah, but that’s a tale for another day.] 

Just keep in mind at that very moment he’s in the final planning stages of approving a plan to raid Bin Laden’s compound and killing him.
And, sure enough, within 48 hours he’s announcing the death of Bin Laden by Navy SEALs. 

Bingo. I’ll wager Messrs. Axelrod and others orchestrated the synchronization of these three events: the press conference to obliterate the birth question; a couple of days after, the previously-scheduled Correspondents’ Dinner at which Donald Trump was made a fool of, and immediately after that, the successful elimination of Bin Laden. Trump never saw it coming.

I’ll describe the chain of events in boxing lingo: ‘Southpaw Obama lands a tremendous left hand to the solar plexus of Donald Trump, who stumbles backwards, gasping for air’ [Obama asserts he has more important matters to work on.]  Trump’s on the ropes, defenseless, taking a rapid-fire barrage of rights and lefts. [Trump, at the Washington Correspondents Dinner, is the recipient of many nasty, astringent comedic barbs. Trump, stone-faced, is not amused.] ‘As Trump tries to stay upright, the President unloads a huge left hook right under his chin, sending him to the canvas, flat on his back, and out cold, with only his left foot twitching.’ [Obama announces triumphantly that Bin Laden is dead, unleashing riotous celebrations around the country.] ‘Donald Trump is motionless.’


We have not heard a squeak out of Donald Trump since. He’s now at 8% popularity among, get this, Republicans  only – no Democrats were polled. Donald Trump is as dead as that possum I saw last weekend splayed out in the middle of Taconic Parkway.

X-Rated … Leave it to the irrepressible New York Post to hammer the final nail into the coffin of Bin Laden. A day or two after it was revealed that pornography was discovered in Bin Laden’s compound, the Post, exhibiting perfect pitch, printed on page one the now-familiar image of a seated Bin Laden viewing his television set. Emblazoned on the screen is the movie title, Debbie Does Abbottabad. Long live the New York Post.

Jim Israel  
Mr. Gripes
May 22, 2011