enemy of the state
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Wednesday, August 11, 2004 | The current mood of DuctapeFatwa
World War III Approaching America's Backyard

Up until now, World War III, in all its bloody beheaded torture on a leash glory has, with the notable exception of the Fall '01 Unity Operation, unfolded far from the lush suburban lawns and alabaster cities of America the Bellicose.

Oh, there have been a few little blips, like the unknown menace heard scuttling around the attic in a bad horror movie, in vans with dark windows and "detention facilities" with no windows, but for the vast majority of Americans, WW3's wetwork has taken place right where they like it best, far away, in countries who are just names, if even that, involving the shedding of blood of people who to them, are not real people, can never be real people like Lacy and Lori and JonBenet, so far away, these ululating, black-shrouded women, these stern bearded turbaned men.

It seems quite natural to American eyes, to see these people collapsed in the middle of crater-pocked roads, keening over the shrouded remains of a child, crouched, weeping in the smoking rubble of some wretched dwelling.

They watch, on their sectional sofas, their Laz-e-boys, honey, while you're up can you bring me some of those chips, that cake, a coke, a beer.

Although we have edited this footage, some scenes may be disturbing to some of our viewers.

As the CIA team gathers in Chile, debating whether to murder Hugo Chavez before the election, or to simply declare it null and void after the fact (and then murder him), barely appearing on the radar screen, "skirmishes" have already begun across that great border, no other like it in the world. Two thousand miles of mountain, desert, river, brush separating abject poverty from incalculable wealth.

As the American theatre of World War Three moves inexorably toward opening night, few in the audience are aware that the actors have been called to their places, the ushers have moved silently to their posts, the music cued.

Scenes that may be disturbing to some viewers cannot be so easily edited out in the name of "good taste" when they occur on the street where you live.

Certainly, the opening acts will not be set in the rolling bermuda grass of the cul de sac. They will unfold in the un-airconditioned concrete and jagged metal of the barrio, the dank steam of the commercial kitchens, the ear-splitting oppressive heat of the factory floor.

La-Z-Boy occupants, if they notice anything at all, will perceive nothing more than a slight upswing in frequency of familiar, harmless memes: crackdown, crime wave, gang violence. Lulled by the caress of such soothing repetition, nothing more alarming than insurgents, militants, gunmen, decades of work has gone into producing this accepting, unquestioning creature.

Let him who would lift the veil of these words and see not an insurgent, but a mirror image of himself beware, defending his home from armed marauders, not a militant, but a young man who no longer fears death, since his bleeding mother fought for her last agonizing breath in his trembling arms, let him beware, the enemy within who hears crackdown and sees police in riot gear chasing a man who crossed a desert without water for the chance to work 80 hours a week in that steamy kitchen to send his children the price of a sack of beans, less than La-Z-Boys upturned cushions would yield.

Do not turn to one another and remark that the gangs involved in the latest crime wave seem different somehow, that eyes once lowered now meet your gaze, well the other night there was a crackdown right up there at the little shopping center. They said a state of emergency in Arizona, it must be those fires, well they were having some trouble with the gangs, too you know, coming from Mexico, they've had a big crackdown, yes I heard they were having some problems down there in South America, something about some insurgents, talking about sending some marines down there, just to protect the Americans, you know, get them out in case they can't bring things under control. crackdown. Where was it? One of those little countries, Bolivia? I love those little hats. Oh and Venezuela. Well you know they had to crack down there. Wait. What was that? a tire blow out? Must have been. No, listen, there's another one. Now I hear a helicopter. Turn on the news, let's see what they say....

posted at 11:40 PM

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Actions like Sep 11 do not happen in a vaccuum. Long before those hijackers ever stepped foot on the planes the damage had been done. They were brainwashed with the same type of garbage propaganda that is spewed from Fatwa's weblog.
Middle Eastern countries are so much more barbaric today and preAmercia than America can ever hope to be...America has only been around 230 years...who did you blame for everything before that Ductape? I am calling a Fatwa on your bullshit!
IMO - terrorist plain and simple. He is an Al queda operative who should be put in a cage on gitmo
My favorite..."In Defense of Holocaust Deniers"
I always thought that "The Enemy Within" was just a metaphore for liberalism, that is, until I encountered Ductape Fatwa. He should be in an orange jumpsuit for sure.
ductape is either a commie, al queda, or a deep cover mole
Tells you something about this asshole doesn't it. He's really serious.
I believe that DF is nothing but a Republican plant...
Ductape is a commie, a terrorist, and he drinks blood too. He drinks Capitalist blood. He eats unborn babies too
Give me your address and I'll send you $20 and a thank-you note for taking your hatred elsewhere.
A terrorist with a sense of humor!
He ain't nuthin' but shit
Jim Sagle

inadequate, halfway house bullshit
Arthur Gilroy
You are a dumbass. Fuck you and your condescension about us "benighted sheeple."
Untruthful, damaging bullshit
John Locke
no better than the neocons and no different than Timothy McVeigh space
a turd in the punchbowl...if DF were Joe Hill he probably would have killed himself rather than get put to death.
A compost pile of fecundity
despicable and literally mentally ill