“Oh, bullshit.
This would be just one more example, a result of his dithering—he’s the
original Mr. Dithers—but in this case, he got exactly what he wanted.”
“No, he tried to get a status of forces agreement,
but the Iraqis wouldn’t give it to us, so what could he do?”
“He tried to get one? This administration, that’s all about
diplomacy, couldn’t get a status of forces agreement? He didn’t want one, and that’s why we didn’t
get one.”
“No, no, that’s a talking point from the Right. You don’t know that.”
“Hell, I work on cars, and I could have got one.”
“And just how would you have done that, Mr. Goodwrench?”
“I’ll tell you how.
I would have called in the Secretary of State, the ambassador, the
defense chiefs, and told them, ‘I want you people to stop playing around with
that clown Maliki and get me a goddamn agreement. I want you to tell that
son-of-a-bitch that the President of the United States wants an agreement, and,
by God, he will have one. We want thirty
thousand troops to remain in Iraq for twenty years, and they will not be subject to
any law but that of the United States. That might, just might be enough time for them to shake off the Middle Ages. If not, by then the Kurds will be an invincible bulwark. We'll see to it. You tell that son-of-a-bitch if he
doesn’t immediately approve a status of forces agreement, we will not leave him
with the billion dollars’ worth of military hardware as promised, but will
pull out of his fucked up country, not leave one goddamn bullet, and that he can
expect his government to survive no longer than a year, and we will not come
back in to save his ass. You tell him,
he can fill our embassy with pig shit for all I care, because we will not be
there risking the lives of our diplomatic staff without an agreement. Better yet, you tell him I will give all that
military hardware to the Kurds, because they are the only people in that
country worth a fuck, and we will set up a no-fly zone around the Kurdish region,
and he had better not test it. We did
not invest trillions of dollars and five thousand Americans in that shit hole just
to sit back and watch Maliki fuck it all up.
Now, get out of here, get over there, and get me a goddamn agreement, and
don’t come back until you have one. And Hillary, for Christ’s sake, quit flitting
around the world playing patty-cake. Get
something accomplished, will you? And stop telling me what Bill thinks. Defense hasn't trusted our party since he ran from Somalia and let that Ranger blood dry in the dirt without an answer, and then he was so frightened he sat with his mouth open during the genocide in Rwanda. He has the blood of a million on his hands, and that will never dry.’ I got off track, but that, my friend, is diplomacy.”
"God, you sound like W's Cheney on steroids."
"Hey, it's Pax Americana, baby. It's that or darkness."
"With bandy-legged Picts bounding over Hadrian's Wall?"
"Absolutely."
"Ah, man..."
"To them, I'm just a run-of-the-mill infidel deserving death, but your side is truly abhorrent. How would youlike to see your gay friend's head on a pike with a cock hanging from his mouth, the pretty faces of your Hollywood royalty disfigured by acid, toothless because their perfect, gleaming teeth have been cut out and made into necklaces? That's coming."
"Not if we leave them alone."
"Especially if we leave them alone."
"Not if we stop backing the Zionists."
"You would stop supporting Israel?"
"They've caused us nothing but trouble since Truman blessed them in 1948."
"Wow."
"Absolutely."
"Okay. Let's say that doesn't stop them. Would you convert?"
"Better a living Muslim than a dead atheist. I mean, of course, I would lie about it, go through the motions and hope for change."
"Now, that is the audacity of hope."
"Perhaps, but how about you, my Christian brother?"
"Well, while I was raised a Christian, I'm a horrible example. Still, I would give an adamant, 'Hell no!' and say I'd go down swinging, but I don't suppose you can really know how you'd react when faced with decapitation."
"So to speak."
"Funny. You want another beer?"
"Sure."
"A beer for my godless friend! What would you do if they decided to test your faith, gave you a knife, and ordered you to cut off a child's head?"
"The child's head or mine? I'm going to need that beer."
"God, you sound like W's Cheney on steroids."
"Hey, it's Pax Americana, baby. It's that or darkness."
"With bandy-legged Picts bounding over Hadrian's Wall?"
"Absolutely."
"Ah, man..."
"To them, I'm just a run-of-the-mill infidel deserving death, but your side is truly abhorrent. How would you
