Saturday, July 16, 2005

Jessica Simpson Chooses Islam Over Kate Moss

Jessica Simpson stood at the window of the one of the largest public relations firms in the world that specialized in celebrities. It was the forty-fourth floor facing north, and Jessica could see Central Park in Manhattan over the tops of the residential buildings lining Central Park South. Jessica was wearing a conservative dress, cut just above the knees with pumps. The dress was modest. And everything was black except for the white pearl necklace and pearl studs in her ear lobes. He hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and her face was glistening clean, her skin as smooth as a baby. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was favoring her left leg, her right knee very slightly bent.
Behind Jessica sat Harvey. Harvey was fat, maybe about 270 pounds, and it was mostly soft flabby fat, not football or muscle fat. Even though the air conditioning was blaring on this hot summer day, Harvey was sweating. In fact, Harvey was always sweating, as if his body was trying to cool off in the heavy coat of adipose that covered it from his neck to his toes.
"I just don't understand it," said Jessica.
"She is interesting, Jessica, because she is bad," said Harvey.
"She's a drug addict, a sloppy slut that hangs out with drug addicts. She is unhealthy. She's constantly smoking. Frankly, I think she is disgusting," said Jessica.
"And yet she has multi-million dollar modeling contracts," said Harvey.
"I'm doing OK," said Jessica.
"People think you are stupid. People do not respect you like they respect Kate Moss," said Harvey.
"They don't respect Kate Moss," said Jessica.
"She has weight because she is bad. You have no weight because you are good. With weight comes respect," said Harvey.
"So how do I get weight?" asked Jessica.
"Well, you are not going to Harvard to get a degree. You do not compose music. You are not a published author. So the only thing left is for you to be bad. In some way. To be bad in some way," said Harvey.
"Forget it," said Jessica.
"You came to me for a consultation. This is my business. I now how the public thinks. They want celebrities that are both strong and weak, but somehow survive and still look good. The public thinks this is character, that it gives character. They want the scars to be there, and yet they want you to survive," said Harvey.
"Can I get scars without being bad. I mean not real scars. The symbolic ones you are referring to," said Jessica.
"How about a photo shoot that shows a possible bad side without you really being bad," said Harvey.
"I am not doing pornography," said Jessica.
"No porn. But something else. Something with weight,' said Harvey.
"Something with style," said Jessica.
"Maybe a photo shoot with American Marines. You dressed with class, not slutty. And the Marines dressed in full uniform,' aid Harvey.
"That sounds good," said Jessica as she turned to face the fat Harvey.
"I'll make some calls," said Harvey.
"But it would have to be real Marines. Not actors," said Jessica.
"Of course. Otherwise it wouldn't have weight," said Harvey.
“I’ll wear an American flag,” said Jessica.
“Madonna already did that,” said Harvey.
“I’ll wear red, white and blue colors,” said Jessica.
“Christina Aguilera just did that, along with like forty other people. Why don’t you wear the Iraqi flag, and then also dress like a Muslim woman,” said Harvey.
“What? In one of those sheets?” asked Christina.
“It would be controversial, which adds weight. Plus, you would show how a woman can be sexy in one of those headscarves, a hijab,” said Harvey.
“I wear scarves,” said Jessica.
“It’s more than a scraf. It wraps around your neck and can go down your shoulders. Maybe we can bang off a few shots with you just wearing a hijab,” said Harvey.
“If it’s not pornographic,” said Jessica.
“We would not show anything. That’s the point,” said Harvey.
“People might hate me,” said Jessica.
“The more hate you get from one sector, the more love you will get from another. And you will not apologize to anyone. That is weight,” said Harvey.
“Okie dokie,” said Jessica.
As the word weight came out of fat Harvey's fat lips, Jessica could only think that she was taking advise from someone nearly as disgusting as Kate Moss. But then, this was not her business. The advice sounded good. And that is what she wanted to remain: good.

Jessica Simpson Accepts Being Worthless

Jessica Simpson sat on a couch. The lights were set low, and there were several fat candles flickering yellow light in the room that was painted and dressed in earth tones. Some kind of new age music was playing softly. Jessica could not make out any discernible melody, but it did feel comforting, sort of. Jessica's left leg was draped over her right knee and she was air tapping her left foot that was holding a black high heel. Her black skirt was cut short, and her blue tank top was a tad too tight. Her palms were placed on the couch on either side of her thighs, and her blond hair was pulled back in a pony tail.
"You have come to talk about the same issue again?" asked Dr. Brimo.
"Yes," said Jessica.
"Go on," said Dr. Brimo.
"Well, it's the same thing. You know," said Jessica.
"Jessica, you must articulate your feelings," said Dr. Brimo.
"You're going to make me say it. OK. OK. I feel…I feel like I am worthless," said Jessica.
"Worthless. This is a word you have not used before," said Dr. Brimo.
"I mean, think about it. What do I do? Am I creative? Am I an artist? What am I?" asked Jessica.
'I cannot answer that. But clearly society has deemed you worthy of something. Your income would suggest that," said Dr. Brimo.
"Yes. Yes," said Jessica.
"What was your income in calendar year 2005?" asked Dr. Brimo.
"Oh, god. I don't know. Maybe -- I don't really know," said Jessica.
"You must have some idea. Did you buy any real estate in 2005?" asked Dr. Brimo.
"Yeah. How did you know? I bought a house in Pacific Palisades, and one in Hawaii. The one in Hawaii is really nice. Right on the ocean with a beach. There are like a bunch of palm trees on the beach. Very private," said Jessica.
"OK. This suggests to me that you earned a good income last year," said Dr. Brimo.
"This year, in 2006, I bought an apartment in London and a small condo in Manhattan," said Jessica.
"So we can infer from this that you are doing well," said Dr. Brimo.
"Yeah. I think I made like a little over thirty million in 2005," said Jessica.
"That much. Jeeez. I mean, well, that is a large amount of money," said Dr. Brimo. The doctor was surprised by the size of the income.
"How did you earn this money?" asked Dr. Brimo as he cleared his throat.
"That's the thing. I don't really know. I mean I do music, I do concerts, I act a little. I am in all the magazines like on a daily basis. God knows why. And I make a lot of money. So this should make me happy, right? But I feel worthless," said Jessica.
Dr. Brimo re-adjusted himself in the large upholstered chair as he continued to absorb the fact that this young woman with little or no talent was raking in thirty mil a year.
"You must be very talented, Jessica, if you are making that kind of money. Your feeling of worthlessness must be coming from some childhood experience, perhaps. Not from any lack of talent today," said Dr. Brimo.
Brimo was still grapling with the talent-free high-income connection. Thirty mill because she has a nice body, can sing at a high school prom, and has a pleasing face? Is that all it takes?
“So again, you must be talented. The money represents that,” said Dr. Brimo.
"You think?" asked Jessica.
"But I think that you need to see me more often. Maybe twice a week. Your feelings of worthlessness can grow worse to the point of, well, I don't want to use the word, but worthless notions can lead to suicide," said Dr. Brimo.
"Oh no. I would never do that. But I travel around too much to see you twice a week," said Jessica.
"You will need to put me on the payroll, and I shall come to wherever you might be. I would be willing to be picked up by a car service and fly like on one of those Net Jets, and visit you wherever that might be. These are the sacrifices I will make for you," said Dr. Brimo.
"Geeee, thanks. OK. So are we done today," said Jessica.
"Yes," said Dr. Brimo.
Jessica stands and pulls down her short skirt which had ridden up her legs as she was sitting.
"So thanks again. I feel better already," said Jessica.
"And you should know that you feel better not because of your income, but because of what we talked about," said Dr. Brimo.
"Of course. I got to run. I am doing a talk show today,” said Jessica.
“Really. Talk about what?” asked Dr. Brimo.
“I don't know, talk. Just talk stuff. You know what I mean," said Jessica.
"Yes. I know what you mean," said Dr. Brimo.
"Toodles," said Jessica as she turned and left through the large polished oak door. Dr. Brimo closed his note pad which contained absolutely no notes.

Monday, July 4, 2005

A Letter From Osama Bin Laden

My name is Osama bin Laden.  You have heard of much of me in recent months, and your President and your news media has successfully demonized me in your eyes.  I am hear to tell you that I am no demon, and that I am not the “evildoer” that you so wish to believe.  First, let me clear up a few simple facts.  I am most definitely responsible for financing, planning and approving the airplane attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.  September 11th, 2001 changed the United States and the World, and this is something in which I feel great pride.  Yes, I know many people died.  You call them innocents.  I make no such distinctions.  Humans are humans, whether they spread the cultural hegemony of the West with a rifle on their shoulder or a can of Coca Cola in their hand, they are all game in my quest to rid the world of them.  Indeed, I believe the can of Coca Cola is more dangerous than the gun.  You call me evil.  I do not recognize myself as evil.  And if evil has no such self-recognition, can such a person truly be evil?  I believe to the fleshy core of my soul that I am doing good, that I spread the works of God and will contribute to making this great earth of ours a planet where Islam can flourish and give people the peace, strength, self-joy and contentment that it has me and many other millions.  Islam is a great and grand religion, but there are many who claim that Islam can be and should “modernized.”  I do not believe in this thing called modernization.  Modernization and pluralism is a corruption of the Koran and the Islamic life.  I have no goal to rid the earth of non-Islamics.  I can live on this planet with people who do not follow the Islamic life.  But these people must remain on their own land.  The earth is split between holy Islamic land and non-Islamic land.  Islam is pure and for a man and his women to achieve the purity of Islam in their lives, they must not be poisoned by the false notion of pluralism and materialism and all the Western ideas that have become a cancer on much of the earth.  I am currently under siege.  I am on the move.  My body will probably die soon, but my soul will go immediately to heaven where I will be rewarded for the deeds I have done.  You can kill me….you can kill my infra-structure and my organization, but this means nothing.  There are thousands upon thousands of Islamics schools around the globe that teach pure Isalm, teaching that to rid all lands of impure-Islamics and Westerners is a duty that they must all oblige themselves.  It is their life work.  You cannot fight this.  America is proud of its freedom of religion.  Well, it are those freedoms that permit us to raise a generation of pure-Islamics.  You cannot stop this.  You will fail, in the end.  Killing me will gratify you, and you will again grow lazy and again you will bend to the will of those who insist upon civil rights and constitutional freedoms.  A little quiet gives us more time for more teaching.  And you will even dismiss this missive that I write as some kind of last desperate plea by a man who mad or evil or desperate.  Little do you know that I am very content, very happy.  I have started something.  I have changed the world.  I am the first domino that has fallen.  Pure Islam will survive, it will prosper, it will spread, and there is nothing you can do about it.  God is great, and he is with us.  The Koran says so.  That is all I need.  Enjoy your televisions and sports utility vehicles and cheap gasoline and large homes and backyards and children’s toys while you can…it is a false joy, an empty joy.  I have little or nothing.  Sure you say I am aq multi-millionaire.  In truth, I have access to much wealth…but I use that wealth to do the work of Islam, not to fatten my closet with stuff.  You are into stuff.  I am into God’s work.  I think that sums it up.  I think that indicates who will win in the end.  I pity you as you laugh at my death.  But do I feel sorry for you?  No.  We kill a cancer.  We do not show it sympathy.  Good bye, and from on high, I shall look down on all of you in hell.