Helping Bob...

...uncover Victoria's Secret

A Blogger's History of the Iraqi Occupation

The foreign sun, it squints upon | A bed that is never mine | As friends and other strangers | From their fates try to resign | Leaving men wholly, totally free | To do anything they wish to do but die | And there are no trials inside the Gates of Eden

Note: The Victoria's Secret site at www.victoriassecret.com apparently blows browsers not supporting Java. I'm not surprised. The Happy Tree Friends site at www.happytreefriends.com is Flash but does not open in IE6. Actually, it does... all the more fun for the kids.

In light of the unacceptable statement about the death of Americans made by Daily Kos, we have removed the link to this blog from our website. As John Kerry said in a statement earlier this week, "My deepest sympathies are with the families of those lost today. Americans know that all who serve in Iraq – soldier and civilian alike – do so in an effort to build a better future for Iraqis. These horrific attacks remind us of the viciousness of the enemies of Iraq's future. United in sadness, we are also united in our resolve that these enemies will not prevail.

John Kerry President

Okay, so what? I've visited aggregator-type blogs of the type I so roundly disparaged in an earlier post... it's not as though I've been hanging around convents ogling 13-year olds. Yeah, I know, it's almost as bad but, what the hell, American politics is so sick and depraved, I just had to sneak a peek. I'm no pervert, but I am intrigued by the resurgent Cult of The Personality, you understand. Yule and Joel have been discussing our latest cult, that of Jesus Next Door. The subject is fascinating but, for my part, I found a host of Web sites dedicated not just to Our Lord Over The Fence, but to my personal lord and saviour Bob Dylan of Hibbing, Minnesota.

I am, of course, aware that Mr. Dylan is a person of a conventional type, a flesh-and-bone job packaged inside a fast-aging bag of skin. Others, however, appear to lack my discernment. There is a welter of sites out there detailing what Mr. Dylan does, eats, thinks, wears, and plays at and between concerts.

It's decidedly weird. Have people nothing better to do?

But this is beside the point. Iraq, Afghanistan and the world are burning in anticipation of the Saviour portrayed by Jim Caviezel in that film to which I refuse to subject myself. But fuck him, this is about me. Bearing the suffering of Christ and my fellow man as I would the weight of a cross, I surfed over to the John Kerry President blog where, with ostentatious ceremony and an accompanying blog entry, the John Kerry President blog people self-righteously, indignantly and stupidly de-linked Daily Kos. They did so because Kos stated sometime last week that he felt little sympathy for dead mercenaries who, in the hours before their deaths, earned $1,000 a day killing people they did not know. This is what Kos said:

Every death should be on the front page... That said, I feel nothing over the death of mercenaries. They aren't in Iraq because of orders, or because they are there trying to help the people make Iraq a better place. They are there to wage war for profit. Screw them.

Daily Kos

In the smoky light of events at Fallujah last week, I found myself sympathizing with Kos's feelings and his explication of them so, while conducting preliminary investigations into whether the Victoria's Secret site constitutes a suitable home for my friend Mr. Dylan, I toddled on over for a look at what President JFK had to say. He is, after all and like Kos, rumoured to have a personality around which a cult might one day be built.

Okay, first, the title of the John Kerry President blog. I agree, it's beyond comment or contempt. John Kerry President. Enough said. It's pathetic. Secondly, consider the brain-dead hack and amateur propagandist generating the vacuous, dull-as-ditchwater copy populating the site. Well, you know what JFK II looks like. Pretty similar to the dead one, eh? His scribe's style suits the nominee in that it is tepid, murky, and lifeless. To take it seriously is to need a shrink or a strong shot of something. Indeed, such meaningless sites tend to be extremely popular in the United States. Most Americans are not surprised by this. I doubt most Iraqis would be either, but their lack of surprise would surely be based on a very different perception of those who avidly snap up such tripe.

Do you know, these two-line link farms get hundreds of comments and tens of thousands of visitors? Read the comments and you'll wish you'd never made your blog public. God, what inane fucking drivel. And just think of it. These people could visit you any day. You will never sleep soundly again. Should you carry an advertiser and say anything controversial, you're in for a mega-blast of mindless twaddle. Flee... move to Africa. Here we say what we believe. Bush and Ariel Sharon are accepted as war criminals in this neck of the woods and there's bugger-all the USMC can do about it. Not unless they want to be toast by lunch. We call it democracy.

Damn, where's this Victoria's Secret site, now? I think it's just www.victoriassecret.com. Ah, that's it.

So far, al-Sadr has refrained from calling on his supporters to join the armed resistance, but many here are predicting that closing down the newspaper – a nonviolent means of resisting the occupation – was just the push he needed. But then, recruiting for the resistance has always been a specialty of the presidential envoy to Iraq...

Naomi Klein | Bremer has destroyed my country

I ask you again. Have these link-farmers and their battery chicken commenters nothing better to do? Should they not be pondering the significance of Sunday's outburst of anger by Muqtada al-Sadr's predominantly Shi'ite supporters? Buoyed by the killing of a couple of dollar-rich, gun-toting zombies by Sunni guerrillas in Fallujah, Sunday proved one of the Iraqi resistance's most successful days to date. Many Americans died. A couple of Salvadorans too. The Spanish were hammered and the Italians took a beating. Spring suffuses the desert air and it is evident in the jaunty step of every Iraqi today. But the Italians weren't too phased. Schumacher and Barrichello made it another one-two at the Bahrain Grand Prix.

God, these girls on this site look good. Yeah. Dead Americans. What more could anybody want? Okay, shuddup, that's mean... Israel will eventually get what's coming to it. I must say, I approve of the lingerie section at Victoria's Secret. The girls are all poised but none lose their naked sensuousness and overt sexuality. Their lingerie says, "Take me off and take me" in one hot, sultry breath. When it comes to lingerie, I like middle-of-the-road coverage. On a woman, I hasten to add. It leaves enough to the imagination, but is austere enough to drive one mad.

I think Bob will be happy at Victoria's Secret. Mind you, at 63, Bob should be more than happy with whatever he can get.

The carnage in Sadr City and further afield (far to the south, the Governor of Basra's office has fallen to al-Sadr's al-Mahdi militia) was always on the cards, and Naomi Klein called it the day before the great insurgency. She saw its arrival in the banning by Occupation Forces of an al-Sadr supporting weekly and the arrest of aide Mustafa al-Yacoubi on charges of murdering a returning invasion-force cleric. Mugged in a mosque, he was chopped up in a manner seen only on Happy Tree Friends. I guess Klein also saw it in Bremer's appointment of a new intelligence chief, who immediately displayed his lack of any qualifying attributes by retaining his boss. And she saw it coming in

"...a wave of anti-American rage so intense that it now extends not only to US troops, occupation officials and their contractors but also to foreign journalists, aid workers, their translators and pretty much anyone else associated with the Americans."

Yeah, chew on that one. I wonder why? Mind you, anybody but the Americans can see these things. Just the other day, after the mercenary grill, I predicted the arrival of the cavalry. Today, some 1,200 Marines and two battalions of Iraqi security personnel are poised to enter Fallujah. The fool Bremer's declared al-Sadr an outlaw, American tanks have been squashing Iraqis in Baghdad, and Apache helicopters are hitting police stations and government buildings occupied by al-Sadr supporters.

Actually, on TV it all looks rather good. It reminds me of the mid-80s in South Africa. Watching crowds of AK-wielding zealots always stirs the armchair warrior in me. In the context of the violence confronting them, these Iraqi resistance fighters epitomize Democracy in Action. The Yanks say "Yes" with big guns; and Iraqis say "No" with big bombs. I prefer hyenas myself but, either way, it's a win-win situation. Blackwater Democracy has arrived. Like Victoria's Secret. Gad, imagine coming home to a couple of these after a hard day on the battlefield. Bremer should pack his bags tonight and catch the early morning flight to Tel Aviv; leaving the troops behind to be slaughtered, of course. Democracy must, when all is said, done, signed, sealed and delivered by June 30, be sustainable.

Ah well, let's just see how it goes, as they say. I'm busy on the underwear or 'intimate wear' side at the moment. Jeez, these people have imagination. You get thongs and briefs and panties and all sorts of things. I wouldn't mind being an outlaw of the al-Sadr variety if these girls formed part of the package. Their garments leave little to the imagination but, hey, who the hell cares? These girls can drive my car any day. Were Dylan to sing Love Sick to any one of them, I can't see him getting to the final line; that quavering profession of undying love that betrays every denial going before. Mind you, fuck him... I'll sing the song.

Why do the Iraqis hate Americans? Need you ask? Okay, part of the answer lies in the Daily Kos—John Kerry President dynamic. In his weak-kneed, lily-livered capitulation to his Democrat overlords, Kos offers insight into his standpoint on mercenaries (you surely didn't expect him to stand his ground, did you?):

"Unlike the vast majority of people in this country, I actually grew up in a war zone. I witnessed communist guerrillas execute students accused of being government collaborators. I was 8 years old, and I remember stepping over a dead body, warm blood flowing from a fresh wound. Dodging bullets while at market. I lived in the midst of hate the likes of which most of you will never understand (Clinton and Bush hatred is nothing compared to that generated when people kill each other for politics or race or nationality). There's no way I could ever describe the ways this experience colours my worldview."

No, there isn't, Kos, but full marks for trying. These people will never learn.

It doesn't matter. You expose the limp-dick psyche of the button-down Yank with no brains and bugger-all balls who uses one hand to shake a fist at detractors and the other to fiddle about in his trousers. They're all a bunch of wankers. Give up on them or you will go insane. You can avoid your fate if you join me in the "Angels" section of Victoria's Secret. These chicks are hot. It's a pity so many have their heads trimmed at the top or their feet lopped off, but I guess it prevents people like RageBoy nicking their pictures. Mind you, looking at the blonde girl third from the left, I reckon RageBoy would get straight down to pinching her knickers. Maybe this advertising gig is not such a bad idea for Bob, after all. It'll certainly keep him up and about a while longer.

As for you Kos, you scum, you campaign for Kerry which, I'm afraid, puts you in a category far removed from healthy red-blooded males such as RageBoy, Bob Dylan and Me. By blogging for the Dead Kennedy, you campaign for Bush. They are two of a kind, and it does not bode well for our global future. Perhaps your childhood... Nah. I'm saving the swimsuit section for last. I've no idea why swim suits are always left till last because these bras... well, the models in them, are stunning. Note that I am blogging in the living room here, and my hands are, unlike the average American voter, not down the front of my jeans.

My sex life is healthy and my interest in these girls is purely academic, of an aesthetic nature as it were, and in the creative interests of one of America's greatest artists, living or dead. Who knows? Whether he's living or dead, that is? Well, it doesn't matter, as long as he still churns out the music. Hmm... the blonde one again... what is it about blondes? Where are her nipples?

Hey, they've airbrushed nipples on Victoria's Secret. I want what I've paid for. This is fucking censorship.

John Kerry President (let's just call him President, eh?) sees things differently to you, Kos. He spells it out: "Americans know that all who serve in Iraq – soldier and civilian alike – do so in an effort to build a better future for Iraqis." Heh... I can just imagine those 1,500 South African mercenaries... well, actually, no I can't. They're there to kill for fun and profit. So, Kos, first, you're not an American; secondly, Americans dig mercenaries and, thirdly, the others don't count. I could have told you that a long time ago, but would you have listened to me? No? That's right; you had to learn the hard way. You get Americans and you get the others. And the others don't matter. For politicians to grasp truths they have to be simple, even if that means they're no longer truths. The short version, Kos, is that nobody cares and you're one of the others.

There's a site here by a guy who paints the nipples back in. Hang on a sec...

Anyway, Kos, now you've been censored by your candidate's blog in much the same way Bush's bum boy closed down Muqtada al-Sadr's lowly tabloid and this blonde girl's had her nipples removed. John Kerry President don't love you no mo'. He digs mercenaries because, although they cost a shitload of your money, they save soldiers' lives and his cadaverous white political skin. To President (just like George W. Bush), you are nobody and I really wonder why you think otherwise. At just 30 years of age, the Ayatollah of the Baghdad slums knows these things all too well and he acts on them. Mind you, I see Victoria's Secret is offering an Iraqi Special. A night with seventy-two of these girls in return for a small favour. Hmm... I wonder if Bob has anything to do with this. It was, after all, he who sang (on Saved), "Terrorize your enemy, God will reward you well for what pleases him."

Give up on this link-and-paste stuff, Kos. There is no future in it. Besides, Billmon has it covered over at Whiskey Bar. He spells 'whiskey' correctly, is not campaigning for anybody, and can be relatively straightforward when expressing himself. Join me. We have important things to attend to. Bob is onto a good thing here and we can find him suitable advertising partners. I have the vineyards to check out next and I don't drink.

No, I'm not Muslim. I'm a good Catholic boy and will be severely punished for my sins, transgressions and lascivious thoughts. Hmm... Lascivious Thoughts. That'd make a nice name for chocolate-coated peanuts or something. Like Whispers.

Jesus, these swimsuits are stunning... heh. Yeah. Why pay so much...? Well, it's always fascinated me... Why do women always pay so much more for less? Unlike President, Kos, I'm not complaining here... I like it. I mean, the girl without the top is too much. Look, this is getting vaguely pornographic (it kinda reminds me of politics). I need to spend some quality time with my wife right now and I forgive you your slimy return to the hovel of that painted hyena John Kerry President. As far as I'm concerned, you can go back to blogging on your site as you see fit. I wouldn't want to tell you how to run your blog. That's your John Kerry's job.

I'll just turn on Time Out of Mind and...

By the way, do you two-line linkers have a sex life? Does your John Kerry have one? I mean, we know about George W. Bush and Big Dick, but that's not really sex, is it? Agh, don't worry, just get the hell out... My wife's looking at the swim suits and…

Oh-oh, yeah...

God, life might be tough, but you need not feel too sorry for me. I am, after all, a hard man and a blogger to boot. Now, I'm just slipping out of here for a second or two…

At dawn my lover comes to me | And tells me of her dreams | With no attempts to shovel the glimpse | Into the ditch of what each one means | At times I think there are no words | But these to tell what's true | And there are no truths outside the Gates of Eden

Bob Dylan | Gates of Eden

Notes

• South Africa, which will celebrate 10 years of freedom from apartheid in two weeks' time, has a history of violence. An excellent review by David Neiwert of the events detailed above, sans the search for Victoria's Secret, led me to reflect on my own country's recent past. Graphics of people killed by bombs and the notorious necklace method hide, as does much the truth on the Web, behind the pleasing facades presented by our models from Bob's new studio. They are not for the squeamish and need not be viewed at all. It is their presence, lost in the bullshit, that is important to this blog entry.
  
• David's article, Bringing it On (from Mark Woods), raised a curious anomaly. Some ten years after the last of some 700 individuals were stabbed, beaten and then killed by having petrol-doused tyres hung around their necks set aflame, South Africans are aware of the purpose of ritual in such mob murders. Born of a frustration engendered by the institutional violence of whites who viewed black South Africans as barbarous and savage, many of these murders served as a cathartic outlet for an anger that burnt with a white heat. Most white South Africans have yet to realise the role they played in the deaths of so many unfortunates.
  
• In her paper on 'necklacing', The Ritual of the Necklace, Joanna Ball cites one of the first necklacing cases, that of KwaNobuhle councillor Tamsanqa Kinikini. One of the most haunting photographs of that period of our history is, unfortunately, a photograph of the body of his son, Silumko, whom I have never forgotten. Most of Mr. Kinikini's family died in the furnace of South Africa's townships during the 1980s.
  
• The Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation (CSV) remains a remarkable repository of articles and papers giving a better understanding of violence to those affected by it.
  
• Thanks to Kos, Billmon and David Neiwert for exposing much of the hypocrisy surrounding the hysteria generated by and exploited after the Fallujah 'necklacings'; and to Kos for participating in this blog entry, albeit unknowingly.

Slate carry some very good articles. Tangled Up In Boobs is... well, not one of them. Nor does AdAge.com's Bob Garfield get it in his article, Why Bob Dylan's Ligerie Ad is All Wrong. Although Bob can't stop chuckling ("Oh yeah, I've been singing those songs all my life, man"), I'm told some of the girls—who show a far greater appreciation of Dylan's all-round prowess than do young Stevenson and Garfield, are extremely upset. If you'll excuse me, I must go comfort them.