Return of the Road Map
According to today's Washington Post headline, the Road Map is in tatters.
If only they knew.
Readers of this blog will already have some passing familiarity with the real status of the Road Map. When we last saw the Sec. of State, he was dreaming. . . or was he?
SLOW DISSOLVE TO:
INT. POWELL STUDY – NIGHT
The Sec. of State leans back in his rocking chair. He's wearing pajamas, sipping hot cocoa. Alma sits by a lamp, reading a newspaper. She removes her reading glasses and looks across at her husband.
ALMA: You've been awfully quiet.
POWELL: Have I been?
The Sec. of State nervously sips his hot cocoa and rocks in his rocking chair.
ALMA: You're usually so talkative. (She puts her glasses back on and returns to her newspaper.) Your clothes were awfully dirty when you came in. Just what were you doing out there?
POWELL: Gardening.
ALMA: (Incredulous) What? In our yard?
POWELL: Okay, okay. I was playing touch football with Tenet and the boys. We--
POWELL and ALMA are interrupted by a large, soft THUD, coming from the end of the hallway.
The house rattles. ALMA gasps. POWELL stands, dropping his cup and saucer.
ALMA: What is it?
Something heavy begins to limp its wet way toward the study door.
ALMA: Now honey, I've told you to stop letting Cheney crash here when he's tied one on...
POWELL motions for her to be quiet. The thing in the hallway reaches the study door. The doorknob begins to turn.
ALMA rushes toward POWELL and holds onto him.
The door swings open.
ALMA screams and faints. POWELL catches her and lowers her onto the sofa. He stands and turns toward the thing in the study doorway.
The thing's face is in shadow. It limps into the room, dragging a wet, rotting leg across the hardwood floor. It seems to be avoiding the light. It's breath rattles wetly.
POWELL pulls out a handkerchief and covers his mouth and nose.
POWELL: Road Map, is that you?
The thing sits in a stuffed chair in a dark corner of the room. It coughs wetly. The rot of death fills the room.
ROAD MAP: Yes, it's me, you stupid bastard. Were you expecting any other undead things to come wandering in here, tonight?
POWELL stares at the Road Map thing, dumbfounded.
ROAD MAP: Don't just stand there. Get me a drink, you ninny!
POWELL nods and hurries over to a liquor cabinet.
POWELL: Scotch?
ROAD MAP: Schnapps. Make it a double.
POWELL: Schnapps? I don't know if I have any--
ROAD MAP: (Sotto voice) Cabinet on the right, top shelf.
POWELL: Got it. (Pouring) When did you start drinking schnapps?
ROAD MAP: You'll understand in a minute.
POWELL brings the Road Map thing its drink, but recoils in horror as he gets close to it.
The Road Map thing reaches out and grabs his drink.
ROAD MAP: Gimme that!
POWELL catches a glimpse of the thing's horrible features as it momentarily leans into the light. He steps back from it, mouth agape.
POWELL: I, I don't understand.
ROAD MAP: You don't understand what? Why I look so bad? Is that it?
POWELL: No. I mean yes! I mean ... it doesn't make sense. You were freshly dead; much fresher than Al Gore was when they buried him up on that Indian mound.
The Road Map thing tilts back its glass and gulps its schnapps. It belches.
ROAD MAP: Well, now I'm going to tell you a little secret, dumbass, so listen up. I've been dead much longer than you think. I am a dead idea, an idea that died many decades ago. Only dummies like you and the press and, amazingly, the Europeans, just don't seem to get it.
The Road Map thing struggles up out of its chair, and shuffles into the light. It is a sight too horrible to look upon. Flesh falls away from its body into wet clumps on the floor, revealing something underneath so rotten, so putrid, that POWELL's eyes go wide with horror.
POWELL: But how... Wha'?
The Road Map thing smiles cruelly.
ROAD MAP: Now you see, eh? Now you can see me for what I really am!
POWELL: OH, MY GOD!
ROAD MAP: (Laughing madly) Yes! I AM THE MUNICH TREATY!
POWELL screams in terror.
The Road Map thing laughs louder and louder.
ROAD MAP: Peace in our time, dumbass! Peace in our time!
To be continued...
(Again, with apologies to Stephen King...)
WOW
Beautifully done.
I'm envious.
I'll be sharing this with others, though I doubt it will get them to change their minds any more than just delivering the punch-line straight-up. Still, sometimes it's nice to show them how ugly their ideas are while shoving them back into their faces. At least there's some satisfaction in letting them know they haven't put one over on you, while you let them know in what column you belong in their 'data base.'
Kudos!
Posted by: yonason | January 21, 2005 at 04:16 PM
To the crewman from "Captain's Quarters," who says:
"I don't know if I agree that the Middle East Road Map is the evil clone of this historical document"
It's the same.
It amounts to appeasement of the "new nazis," for whom the so-called "Palestinians" (invented in the mid 1960's as a propaganda tool to destroy Israel) are the Middle East vanguard, with Al Qaeda the main overseas branch, or tenticle if you will.
Even the sane Muslims (believe it or not, they exist, though in what numbers I can't say) would agree, because they saw up close and personal how the beast evolved. For a great overview, see:
href=http://www.tellthechildrenthetruth.com/links.htm
It's all laid out there in detail, replete with references.
Also, try googling "banna" and "nazi," for how the "Muslim Brotherhood" figures in all this.
href=http://www.frontpagemag.com/Articles/ReadArticle.asp?ID=15344
If you aren't familiar with this stuff, you have a lot of catching up to do. When you do, you will see just how perverse the "Road Map" really is, and why the article is completely "dead-on."
Posted by: yonason | January 23, 2005 at 03:56 PM