Secrets of an Iran Contra Insider
by Al Martin
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by Al Martin
Adventures of Fluffy, American Dissident Cat;
Afghan Pencil Drop Debacle
(September 9) It's started again. Early in the morning some idiot starts ringing my doorbell. It was ringing and ringing and ringing, and I knew right away it was one of the Geriatric Gestapo of the Neighborhood Watch Association. They're the only ones that would do it - ring five or six times in a row like that. And sure enough it was - complaining about the Fluffster. Anyway Fluffy the cat was over at the golf club parking lot, where he likes to hang out with all the Cadillacs and their American flags that the Geriatric Gestapo like to put on their cars. The Fluffster has gotten into the habit of tearing the flags off of them.
To him, it's just something to play with. The flags are blowing in the breeze, and the cat gets on top of the cars. He takes his paws and grabs at the flag and his claws get stuck in the flag. Then in order to get his claws out, he will literally tear the flag right off the little wooden pole. His claws get stuck in there because they're all cheap little seventy-nine cent American flags - made in China, of course. They're just stapled on to the wood. So the Fluffster, in order to get his claws out, has to tear the flag off the pole. And people are thinking he's doing it on purpose. These oldsters are convinced that I've trained him to do it on purpose because I told them so. I've told them that the Fluffster is a duly enlightened cat, and he's doing his part to prevent the spread of "Dangerous Blind Patriotism."
I put his little army helmet on today and he's all set. He's got a miniature army helmet I bought him through this cat mail order place. They sell all sorts of stuff for cats. The Fluffster actually seems to like it. It's a little green plastic helmet with webbing over it and it looks exactly like a World War II helmet and it has places for his ears. It says the Big Red One on it and it has a little elastic that goes under his chin. It doesn't seem to bother him and he doesn't try to pull it off, but then, of course, he's half stoned all the time.
He eats catnip incessantly. He'll go through a bag of it in no time. I used to give him just a teaspoon of organically grown fresh catnip a day. It's good for the cat's bowels and urinary tract. It evidently keeps them regular like bran flakes for people. I kept giving him more and more and then I thought I'll just give him the whole bag. He's an All American Cat. He's stoned all day on catnip. His eyes are always glazed over and he's having a hell of a time.
Catnip is to Cats what Jack Daniels and Prozac is to the Bush Family.
So he's out there this morning with his little helmet on, tearing the flags off the Geriatrics' Cadillacs. The old people actually believe me when I tell them that I've trained him to do this and that the Fluffster is doing his part so the Geriatric Gestapo don't succumb to "Dangerous Blind Patriotism." And, of course, none of them want to hear that.
So now I've been told that for every seventy-nine cent American flag "Made in China" that he pulls down, we'll get fined five dollars. They're just fine happy and they just love it because the fines go into the clubhouse fund to support the geriatric exercise room where they're now learning the goose-step. Instead of aerobics, they have Goose Stepping 101. You don't know how wild the Neighborhood Watch Association seniors can get. (See previous story on "Close Encounters With Neighborhood Watch")
Their biggest problem is that their brittle belief systems, from the time when they were young, are all calcified -- and they're collapsing all around them. Since their minds have long since atrophied, they go into this numb way of living, so they're just numb to everything. It's like All-Natural Prozac, and they all hang out with each other because they're all equally naïve and provincial. They all take the senior citizen shuttle bus to Wal-Mart for the Thursday double discount seniors' day. Loaded with their trading stamp booklets and every discount card in the world, they go driving around in their electric three wheelers. They bang into each other and their false teeth come out. More of them have lost their false teeth at Wal-Mart banging into each other than you can imagine. It's like Dodge-Em Cars or Bumper Cars in this place. And that's what it looks like because none of them can half see anymore. Their eye-hand coordination is pretty well gone. You go into the Wal-Mart and it looks like a bunch of oldsters playing Bumper Cars and then when one of them drives onto the other, they yell and cry out, "Whiplash" and "I'm going to get my lawyer."
And they actually have ads on the back of the bus benches in front of the place from every ambulance-chasing lawyer in town. The one I love is called Rosenberg Rosenthal Rosencrantz and Rosenwitz. That's the name of the law firm. They have the most prominent ad and it shows a picture of two oldsters banging into each other in the dodge em cars. One of them has whiplash and a neck brace and the other one has lost his false teeth and his hearing aid has popped out and got run over. And another oldster in back is saying, "If you've suffered an injury in the dodge em cars, call the attorneys at Rosenberg Rosenthal Rosencrantz and Rosenwitz. We have a combined hundred years experience in ambulance chasing."
This is just the latest episode in the ongoing adventures of the Almeister, the machinations of Fluffster and Company and the Goose-Stepping Geriatric Gestapo Neighborhood Watch Asssociation. It almost sounds like a TV show.
In other news, the seventeenth money drop over Afghanistan has just been completed. (See previous story "Unhappy Americans, Gay Afghans")
It was another five million dollar drop of Bennies (Ben Franklins or, hundred dollar bills) for the Afghan peasantry. The hundreds were in the usual envelopes with George Bush's face on the outside, as we've mentioned before.
This time they were trying to spread leaflets about "Wanted: Terrorists." Inside the envelope not only were there a couple of Bennies, but there was a pamphlet, which looked like a menu for a Chinese restaurant. There were photographs of all these people we're looking for with their names and number one, number two and number three next to them. And in the middle of the column it says, "Circle the terrorist you know about" and in the left hand column was the reward, you know, like "Three million afghanis and a lifetime supply of camel dung" or "Four million afghanis plus a microwave oven." You were supposed to circle with your pencil the ones you knew about then turn it in to the local American forces. It was funny; it looked just like a Chinese menu
Assuming that the Afghans didn't have any pencils, they dropped pencils along with the envelopes and the money and brochures. What our "intelligence" didn't realize, of course, is that these people didn't know what "pencils" were from a hole in the wall.
They were going to initially drop them in cartons, but the government bought them from some fly-by-night company called the Dung Show Pencil Company or something like that. They used mostly C-130 cargo planes for this and they're throwing out the pencils out of the plane. You just stack them up and out they go, out of the plane - but they're sharpened pencils and they're falling to the ground. Then they showed the Afghan peasants sitting around and they know George Bush as "The Great White Father of the West Who Causes the Heavens To Rain Down Bennies."
But they didn't realize that when you drop sharpened pencils from the sky you're going to hurt somebody. So they're raining down these envelopes along with the pencils and the pencils are hitting people and the people are running and the camels are bolting and the sheep are trying to hide. The pencils were actually sticking into the ground when they hit. They're also sticking out of the roofs of the huts. The Afghan tribal leader through an interpreter, asked, "Why are you dropping sharpened sticks on us?" Finally they got the hang of it and though they didn't get what the pencils were for, the minute it stopped, they ran back out of their huts to grab their envelopes.
They've seen the WANTED brochures so they had an idea what that is. But the pencils completely baffled them. Then the camels started to come back, no longer frightened - but they had pencils sticking out of their backs. Then the camels started grazing on the pencils and actually eating the pencils.
The French interpreter explained that the graphite in the pencil acts on camels' bowels like Exlax does to people. And, of course, this is very beneficial for the average Afghan because dried camel dung is used for just about everything.
The Afghans were sitting up and smiling holding up their pencils. They called the pencils "Sharpened Sticks Which Cause Camels to Give Much Dung." They love them and they want more pencils now. They're feeding the camels these pencils and the camels are pooping up a storm and they can't get over it.
WorldCom and Enron employees and all other American citizens who had their IRAs filled with WorldCom, Enron, and Global Crossing -- take note.
These are your tax dollars at work.
COMING SOON: An actual unretouched photograph of the Fluffster complete with his Commie red collar and his Chinese Commie green ID tag.
AL MARTIN is America's foremost expert on corporate and government fraud. A relentless whistleblower, he has written a book called, "The Conspirators: Secrets of an Iran Contra Insider," which chronicles his adventures with the Bush Cabal (National Liberty Press, Order Line: 866-317-1390). This detailed account of government criminal operations, namely State-sanctioned fraud, drug trafficking and illicit weapons sales, is unprecedented in publishing history. Al Martin is also well known for his great charm and profound insights into world events, and he is frequently interviewed on many talk radio shows across the nation. His weekly column "Behind the Scenes in the Beltway" is published regularly online at Al Martin Raw, (http://www.almartinraw.com).
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