The Ultimate In Final Solutions

It seems like almost yesterday I received a reluctant acceptance of a poem called “Arabs & Jews” in the early 1970s. It was a simple poem about a simple problem that could be solved as easily as the Japanese inconvenience was solved in August of 1945, with one simple addition.

I proposed giving everyone in the Holy Land 72 hours to pack up & relocate to Disneyland & other profitable theme parks & then using our nuclear arsenal to turn the entire Middle East into a sheet of glass. If I remember correctly, we didn’t afford the Japs the same luxury before burning a few hundred thousand of their culturally inappropriate asses away. I thought I was being a good American.

I still don’t see how my solution would have produced any more adverse impacts than those we’ve endured for freedumbocracy in more than half a century since.

If you want to believe in shit, you get what you deserve, seems to me.

I’m pretty sure even mental defectives wouldn’t be anxious to return to their former real estate disputes if we just made the ground they used to stick to glow so it could be seen by spaceship Voyager as it exists our meangingless solar system, like a panicked dog looking for some place to bury his rancid bone.