Bob's Links and Rants

Welcome to my rants page! You can contact me by e-mail: Blog roll. Site feed.

Wednesday, February 26, 2003

My 17-year-old niece in California meets the forces of darkness:
So, I was filling up my gas tank - mourning the fact that I don't have an electric or hybrid vehicle - and this old guy pulls up. He gets out and is staring at me. I smile, thinking he must be overpowered by my youthful beauty. But then he says to me really angrily, "What, you just gonna sit there and let them come get us?!" I assume he was referring to the anti-war fliers my car windows are covered in. But still, it really freaked me out - I thought he was going to kill me or something he looked so angry.

But at the same time I wanted to ask the guy, "Who exactly are "they"? I mean, "they" could be Saddam (which in that case would mean that he needs to practice his conjugation), Bin Laden (which is stupid as we are invading Iraq) or maybe some other terrorist faction (the last parentheses covered that). Well, I didn't say anything because I didn't - obviously - want to get in a fight with an angry, overweight white man and so I finished and drove off as he stared malevolently at me.
-- from Beth Goodsell's Rant Page.

I was chatting online with Beth last night and she told me the story. I was trying to figure out what the guy could possibly be imagining when he says "they" will come get us. Perhaps the Iraqi navy, all ten or so rubber boats, each carrying five rifle-toting Iraqi soldiers, sails out of the Shaat-al-Arab past the thousands of US troops in Kuwait, past five carrier battle groups in the Persian Gulf and surrounding waters, around the Arabian peninsula, through the Suez Canal, across the Mediterranean teeming with US and British warships, past Gibraltar into the wintry Atlantic, 3000+ miles to the Panama Canal, up the coast of Mexico, past another carrier group or two in San Diego, into the Golden Gate, down the bay, all fresh and ready to storm the beaches of East Palo Alto. I'll tell you, I couldn't sleep just worrying about it.