silver sage

opinions from the high desert

It might be your neighborhood,

but it’s my bar.

There has been an awful lot of talk about Israel’s use of “disproportionate force.” Whatever that is. It’s wasn’t apparent to me at first how anyone could think Israel was being unreasonably forceful. Especially after having open war declared against it. Until I realized that the people being critical have never been in a bar fight. Probably never even seen one, except in the movies, which, believe me, is as far from reality as you can get. See, in the movies, guys trade punches, keep things fair. You hit me, I hit you, back and forth, with the tougher guy, the one that can take the most punches, winning. Then they buy each other a beer and call it good. Both parties walk away with a new respect and appreciation for the other. This is what we, apparently, expect in our wars too.

I hate to be the one to burst your bubble, but that isn’t how it works. Now, I’m not a fighter. That isn’t to say I haven’t, I’d just rather not. Sometimes things happen. And I haven’t been in a war. So a fight is the closest analogy I have. It’s war on a smaller scale. I’m not an expert. I’m just a guy that has seen some ugly things in the real world.

So, let’s have a little demonstration of how fights really work. I’ll be the handsome and virile Israel, and you get to be Hezzy, the goat f’ing, closet homosexual, pig licking a’hole. (Sorry, it’s my story.) Here we are in this kind of small, dark, hot little bar. It’s a little bit crowded with a lot of your cousins, none of whom like me. Your sisters are here too. Frances, Iranus, and Syrianal. They really don’t like me. I boned Frances, the pretty one, once and the other two are jealous.

You’ve been itching to take me on for a long time. Most of your inbred family has tried and now you think you’re finally big enough to get the job done. Hell, if you win, the hairy Iranus might leave her boyfriend instead of just blowing you when she thinks no one is looking. Tonight’s the night.

You walk up behind me and sucker punch me. I knew you were here, but I was arguing with your retarded cousin Ham Ass, and didn’t see it coming. The problem for you now is, you didn’t knock me out. Your family warned you about picking a fight with me. They all have, and still bear the scars. Had you at least knocked me down you might get some help. There is only one thing to do. Because if I go down, I’m dead. I’m going to punch you in the throat, grab your belt and hit you in the nuts, punch over and over, again and again. What I’m not going to do is allow you to hit me a second time, if possible. When you go down and your sisters jump on my back, grabbing my arms and screaming, “Stop, you’re hurting him.” I’ll start putting the boots to you. You are not only not going to hit me again tonight. You’ll be lucky to walk again, much less hit me ever again. If you get up you might get a bat, a pipe, a gun. It isn’t fair. You will not get an opportunity to defend yourself. You gave up any right to safety when you picked a fight with me. It’s ugly and bloody, by -standers got hurt, but you started it.

Now my gorgeous girlfriend, Amy Racca is pissed off and I’ll be sleeping on the couch for awhile. But she saw what happened and knows that if I lost your family would try to have it’s way with her. A word of warning to you. You think I’m a badass? Her beauty is only matched by her strength. Like they say, “Hell hath no fury…”


July 27, 2006 - Posted by | Israel, News and politics

1 Comment »

  1. […] by shyboy […]

    Pingback by usmediaweb - » It might be your neighborhood, | July 27, 2006

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