Better Optics

Hi guys. Sorry I'm late...oh, just put it over there, Julian. Yes, next to that rocket launcher thingy. Guys, this is Julian, my assistant. Oh, don't get so huffy. How many CIA spies do you know with acne? Now, where was I? You know, sometimes I would forget my own pants if I didn't wear suspenders! Ha ha, no need to laugh. I know you've got that serious freedom fighter thing going. However, if I'm going to be your PR consultant, we simply have to get a few things straight...no Julian, that big man with the machete will help you with that.

Now, first off, I want no more beheadings. Got that? And don't give me that "they did it to us so we're going to do it to them" crap. Look, we both know perfectly well you were going to do that anyway, but that quite simply will have to stop. Do you know how well you guys were looking back home? You can't buy press like that, though God knows I've tried...no, Julian, he's not going to shoot you, just put the printer where the nice man is pointing with his gun.

Anyway, you people really have to learn patience. You know how many more photos there are out there of your people getting tortured? Hundreds, my friends, possibly thousands. Now don't frown at me! This is the best thing that could have happened. My God, they were practically going to string Rumsfeld up from the Washington monument before you started chanting "God is Great" and getting silly with that knife of yours.

Yes, I know he is, but that's something else we've got to discuss. How shall I put this? You come across as a bit odd when you start chanting that, and let me tell you that half of America is just waiting for the slightest thing to grab onto so they can start shouting "fanatics" at their TV sets...yes, Julian, I know your mother says "God is Great" too, but she's Episcopalian and bakes cookies every Sunday so the optics are better. Anyway, just tone down the chanting, and nix all that "infidel" stuff too. You sound like a bad Spielberg flick when you do that.

Now, on to more immediate business. What exactly is all this about you firing off Sarin gas? Well, so what if you found a stash of the stuff?! What is it with you people?! Every time you find something that goes bang, you have to go and use it?

I know we do Julian, but we'd be up to our navels in the damn things if we didn't.

The point is, and listen very carefully here, that there are no WMDs in Iraq! Got it?! Up until today, George Bush was looking very stupid because there are no WMDs in Iraq. He wasn't going to get re-elected because there are no WMDs in Iraq. Even Republicans were screaming at George because there are no WMDs in Iraq. You just might have gotten your way. Because? That's right. So what do you go and do?

No Julian, you weren't supposed to answer that. Just unpack my duffel bag and be quiet.

So, you go and give a couple of grunts a case of watery eyes and a runny nose with a WMD that's in Iraq, that's what! You could have done that with a bushel of ragweed for God's sake...yes, I know he's great, now put that knife down. Don't you know that with all the antidotes they have these days that that little puff of gas you farted off is about as lethal as a squirt of Dristan? You'd have done more damage with a nerf stick!

Ah, but now Don, and Dick, and Paul are going to start jumping up and down saying, "See, see, we told you!" George is going to strut his way through another election, and you're going to be knee-deep in cluster bombs until 2008. So, let's get one thing clear: you dig up anything that looks, smells, tastes or ticks like a WMD, you come to me first. That's what I get paid for.

In the meantime, I advise that you lay low for a while. Take a little trip. I hear Afghanistan is more than safe these days. Just let me handle everything...Julian, pass me that CD, if you would, please. I need to email a few more photos to the Washington Post.