Liar, Liar

By Taki

The American Conservative, 2003 issue

August 11,


I think it's time the neocons acknowledge the debt they owe Baghdad Bob, or

Comical Ali, as the British newspapers refer to the onetime Iraqi

Information Minister.

It was the comical one, following in Dr. Goebbels's footsteps, who showed

us during the brief war in Iraq what denial is all about. (Not a river in

Egypt.) Like Bob, now bereft of braggadocio and black beret and feeling

rather sorry for himself, the Kristols, Frums, and Podhoretzes of this

world are indignantly denying there is any trouble in the paradise we've

just conquered. Kristol, on Fox News (for a change) last week, was irked

that some of his fellow hacks had mentioned that the government might have

exaggerated the threat of WMD and the connection between al-Qaeda and

Saddam Hussein-"This is ridiculous. There's no scandal. It's only the media

that's causing it"-or words to that effect.

Oy veh! Comical Ali lives and is doing well in Washington DC. All wars

produce casualties of truth, but since April 9 - when President Bush

proclaimed the end of hostilities - it is "peace" that's producing the

greater casualties, both where truth and our fighting men are concerned.

Speaking of fighting men, poor Private Lynch. Spielberg was ready to start

filming how female American soldiers won the war against cowardly Iraqi

men. Then the truth emerged. (Some traitor paleocon spilled the beans.) She

was not shot by brutal Fedayeen but injured in a road accident. What I want

to know is what in hell was a woman doing there in the first place? (As

some of you may have guessed, I believe in that old-fashioned ideal where

the fair sex is concerned: putting women on a pedestal rather than making

them fight.) I guess the answer to that question is better a woman than,

say, John Podhoretz, but then maybe not. I am told Podhoretz once scared

the daylights out of Arnaud de Borchgrave by removing his t-shirt and

showing his ample bosoms.

Here's more Comical Ali relief from our very own Baghdad Bobs.

A) Saddam's weapons were a clear and present danger (after the

Harrison Ford thriller), and we were right to go in. My spies (more

paleocon traitors) tell me Saddam's deadly toys could have reached

Cyprus, a place known to be inhabited by Nebraskans, Minnesotans,

and North and South Dakotans.

B) It was gonna be a short war and a very long peace. While our soldiers

and Marines are being killed every day, the brave men at Fox are irked that

some of us are beginning to doubt their forecasts. Mind you, I am perhaps

being too tough on these sofa samurai. Saddam, after all, was ready to nuke

us from the uranium Niger was delivering to Iraq via subway trains

connecting the two countries. Africa, as we all know, is a very rich

continent that exports weapons of mass destruction to Switzerland,

Lichtenstein, and Monaco, as well as Iraq. Liberia, too, was guilty of

aiding Saddam, but only with food and vitamins.

C) Al-Qaeda and Saddam were thick as thieves, and the latter was about

to pass on his WMD to Osama. This is the gravest charge of all. David Frum

tells me that Saddam and bin Laden met in Canada, struck a deal, and

he has a witness, his wife.

D) Last but not least, the rest of the world, we were told by these modern-day

Delphic oracles, would fall into line the moment Ramses, sorry, Rumsfeld,

drove down Saddam Hussein Boulevard in his armored chariot covered in

garlands and cheered on by thousands of Iraqi virgins. Well, I don't know

about the virgins, but Wolfowitz went there, and not for the virgins, I am

told. The rest of the world is, of course, offering every virgin they can

find to the triumphant troika of Bush, Blair, and Prince Rainier (Monte

Carlo backed the alliance), but, as in the case of Wolfowitz, there are no


But enough about the Comical Alis of DC. Diplomats were once described as

decent men sent overseas to lie for their countries. Journalists, on the

other hand, or so I was taught, were not supposed to lie for their

governments but to expose the whoppers. Back in 1967, when the Greek

colonels had overthrown the legitimate government of King Constantine and

ruled by fiat, I was asked by a friend to join the Papadopoulos regime in

the Information Ministry. Although a friend of the King, my loathing of the

overthrown politicians was such that I accepted with alacrity. I lasted

exactly one press conference.

Nikolaos Farmakis, my immediate boss, was a famous anti-communist and

hardliner. Trying to please him, I announced that any foreign journalist

criticizing the government would be hanged in Constitution Square within 24

hours. I was joking, but the outraged foreign press corps was not in the

mood. Farmakis fired me, and he was also fired forthwith. We are still good

friends, however - something the Baghdad Bobs of DC, I predict, will not

remain if things go badly in Iraq. I can picture them, like fishwives,

screaming and accusing each other in living Fox color.

Once again, oy veh! For obvious reasons - no one has accused the DC Bobs of

stupidity, just opportunism - I don't hear too many demands for invading Iran

as of late. (We have no troops left. Who will do the fighting? The

neocons?) Action against Iran is on the backburner, with Britain strongly

against it, although I am reliably told that Monte Carlo might play along.

There will be no American ground troops committed to any ground war against

the Ayatoilets, but I don't preclude a missile attack against Busheir. Nor

do I dismiss American support for the People's Mujihadeen. These would of

course serve only to strengthen the fundamentalist hardliners in Iran, but

our Baghdad Bobs would be all for it.

A good and decent man has killed himself in Britain following attacks on

his name and reputation. David Kelly was the source who leaked to the BBC

that Saddam's weapons of mass destruction were a mirage emanating from Tony

Blair's Savonarola, Alastair Campbell. Campbell is Britain's most hated

man, a dour wallet-lifter, an ex-porno writer who sports the dyspeptic

demeanor of a prostitute who has mistakenly found herself in a church

meeting. Heads must roll over the suicide of an honorable civil servant,

but as of this writing, the man who learned to act and lie from Bill

Clinton, Tony Baloney, has said he will not resign.

Par for the course. No one is ashamed any more, and passing the buck à la

Clinton has become the norm. Lies are no longer lies if the person telling

them tells us he or she believed them at the time. Hillary Clinton's book

is numero uno on the bestseller list. The second biggest liar in American

political history after Bill Clinton writes a book full of lies, and it

goes to number one the first week it's out. Sid The Scumbag Blumenthal

writes a lying book about how the two greatest liars ever to inhabit the

White House were lied against, and it, too, goes on the best-lying list. Go

figure, as honest people used to say in Brooklyn.

The neocons have been lying to the American people from day one, and it's

the honest brave soldiers of the army and the Marines who are being picked

off daily. The liars and lunch-bucket pilferers of this world are sitting

pretty, and our young men are doing the dying. Something is very wrong

here, as the Secret Service man said when he saw Monica Lewinsky taking

late dictation in the Oval Office.

If things do not improve, we should kick our Baghdad Bobs out of their

comfy offices or at least stop listening to their TV rants. The Monrovian

Weekly Standard is looking for experienced editors and so is Liberian

television. Go for it, boys.


August 11, 2003 issue

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