As I sat the other morning, eating a bagel, in Panera Bread, off of Us 41, in Sarasota, two guys came in and I assumed by their dress that they were here to accept an award for their part in killing bin Laden. One was dressed in a formal coat with a top hat, and he said, " Why, this watch is exactly two days slow.” The other guy, a large white rabbit, said, "I'm late. I'm late. For a very important date." And after thanking them for their service, I began to read media accounts of this most important encounter and killing. The "slobbering's" of the media about President Obama being both a genius and a saint gave rise to my brain again "getting on The Crazy Train." As I read more, my mental illness manifested into a dreaded conspiracy theory. I began to think, and suddenly the only thought I had was a quote I remembered from grade school; "It would be so nice if something made sense for a change." (Alice, from Alice in Wonderland).
The mentioned "million dollar mansion" brought a mental vision that was immediately erased by the actual photo of this bin Laden "hideout". I suddenly could not even imagine how these three words could be used in a serious sentence to describe this rundown stack of crude cement blocks. Then there was the photos of the inside of the "compound". Was this a joke? Was this the photo of the inside of some trailer in Kentucky? Is this the furnishings found in a "million dollar mansion"?And how was it possible for 2, slow moving, helicopters to land inside of this compound, just yards away from a military instillation, without encountering some type of assault? The pictures of the surrounding landscape show a town more in tune to donkey transportation, and surly the noise of assaulting helicopters would wake someone up. Then there was the 45 minute gun fight that turned into a 23 minute gun fight, that turned into no gun fight, and no resistance from the occupants of the compound. Then there was the wife, who threw herself in front of the weapons pointed at bin Laden, and was killed, only to return, like someone in Candide, by Voltaire. Then bodyguards with weapons, no bodyguards, and no weapons anywhere in the compound. Then the official statement that bin Laden was reaching for a rifle as he was shot. Then it was a rifle and a pistol. Then he had no weapons. Then the pathetic photo of bin Laden, sitting in his underwear, in a Snuggy, watching an old TV purchased from a clearance sale at Motel 6. Where did this photo originate? It was also said that he was so vain, that he dyed his beard, from it's natural gray, so as to look younger. I must assume that this photo was taken by the Seals during the assault, for why would bin Laden have let someone taken a photo of him in this condition? Now correct me if I am wrong, but I remember hearing, in the beginning, that when the Seals encountered bin Laden, he said,"I am not him!" And then he was shot. This would have been something that not many moral and rational humans could have done, regardless of their orders. This was apparently followed by an extremely quick DNA check, something that usually takes days to perform, to make certain that this pathetic creature was in fact bin Laden. Followed, just as quickly, with a Muslim burial at sea. And last, but not least, the official photo of President Obama, and Queen Hillary, watching the entire operation in real time on a big screen. What? Fake? It was a fake photo? Well who cares? Everything in Wonderland is mixed up. What is up is sometimes down, and what is east is sometimes west, but the truth is always the truth, unless it is not the truth. "If you set to work to believe everything, you will tire out the believing-muscles of your mind, and then you'll be so weak you won't be able to believe the simplest true things." Lewis Carroll.
Lord Howard Hurts