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Sept 11 Musings

Dear President Vogel,

As a truly dedicated member of The Scorched Earth Party, life after the attacks of Sept 11th has been confusing. I'm sure many other members have felt this way, perhaps even you. I'm sure your great wisdom can help us all through these troubled times.

Now, when I say "confusion", I don't mean the kind confusion that made so many Americans ask, "Why would someone hate America that much?" If you don't know why millions, nay billions, of people around the world hate America, you are a mental defective who needs to be put out of our misery. The fact that so many Americans have no idea that America is hated worldwide is reason enough to hate America. In fact, I hate myself for not hating America more than I already do.

No, my queries aren't those of some pathetic Mini-Van Person. They are real concerns that go deeper than John Holmes. My first question is as follows:

Was the Afghanistan of before "The American Empire Strikes Back" an example of what to look forward to once the Scorched Earth Party takes over? Was it the Paradise we seek?

The Afghanistan we saw over the last six years didn't just happen by accident. It took over twenty years of careful planning and hard work to turn this nation into a pile of debris. It took the co-operation of many tribal factions, Mullahs, Warlords, drugs and arms dealers. There was also some excellent multinational support from Russia, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, and the CIA.

From under this mountain of rubble emerged a hearty bunch of tyrannical fanatics. They were the Taliban. Rumour has it, Taliban is Farsi for "Dead Earth." And Dead Earth it is. Absolutely nothing grows in Afghanistan but oodles of opium poppies, the source of pure sense-deadening bliss. Seven million Afghans were expected to face starvation this year alone. However, with heroin a buck-a-fix, it's a cheap, painless and very fashionable way to starve to death.

Starvation would continue the de-population the civil war began. Afghanistan is a country without healthcare, education or justice systems to prop up the weak. Pure, unadulterated, evolution. Survival of the fittest, baby! You've got to love it. Assuming you're the fittest, that is.

And the fittest were the Taliban, who had a hell of a six-year run. They did as they pleased and justified their actions purely on the grounds that it was "Allan H's will". Whoever he is. The nation was their bitch. Taliban members didn't go to the office and drive around in candy-assed SUVs. They drove tanks, over whatever and whoever they wanted. It wasn't just a job. It was a career and a passion. Like being a Klingon Warrior, but without those pesky Federation do-gooders to get in your way.

Under the Taliban, there were no lawyers. No PR weasels. No annoying ads. No crime. No Backstreet Boys. Women knew their place. For that matter, so did the men. You step out of line and punishment was instantaneous. Offenders were whipped, beaten and lynched on the spot. Bodies hung from every lamppost in Kabul. Just the thought of that happening in Washington brings tears of joy to my eyes.

Or so it should. But somehow, it all seems a little hollow. It's not nearly as gratifying as you'd expect. That leads me to my next series of questions.

Could it be that life after a Scorched Earth Party Revolution won't nearly be as fun as we think? Could all the killing and destruction not be worth it? Could it even be wrong to desire the murder of millions of our fellow citizens? Have we been wrong all this time?

Fuck no! The reason why the Taliban's success seems so unfulfilling is that -apart from the love of violence- this Allan H. guy they follow is a major league tight ass. I applaud their destruction of "evil, mindless, materialistic, television and music". But ban all music and make owning a TV a crime? Like most alcohol drinkers around the world, I scoff at cheap, watered down American beer. But ban all alcohol? Instituting a uniform dress for women contains some enjoyable possibilities, but a burqa? Why not just mummify them?

If I can't sit on the couch and watch the episode of The Sopranos where Big Pussy bashes in the skull of an Elvis impersonator with a ball-peen hammer, then fuggetaboudit! If I can't cruise past a 2Km long line of refugees and select the ones I want for my harem while blasting the Bloodhound Gang's Hooray For Boobies Album, then what's the point? If, after a long day of smashing my tank through the 700 Club studios, I can't drink Tequila until I pass out and come to in a Mayan Pyramid, then I don't want to wake up again.

What will I do for fun after I'm finished torturing and killing my enemies?

Forget it Allan H! I will decline your tempting offer of virgins awaiting me in the afterlife. I hate America as much as you do, but I can't get behind your vision of the future. I also can't wait till death for my reward. Like most North Americans, I demand instant -and continuous- gratification. I want my virgins, and I want them now and I want them often!

Nay, I am fully committed to Man-God Jeff Vogel, his teachings and the impending Scorched Earth Revolution. Have no fear. Our revolution will be very different. Like the Taliban, our members will revel in the torture of our enemies. They will have cruel, humiliating and entertaining deaths. Unlike the Taliban, we will also experience the joys of mind-altering chemicals and hedonistic sex. The kind of sex that would make Ron Jeremy blush. Cruelty, decadence and satisfying primal urges in the most creative ways possible is what our revolution is all about.

Wax is for Anthrax, but Anthrax is for pussies.

Peter Schuller

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