So it's enjoining time- time to get mixed up in the battle for hearts and minds. The trenches in advertising agency budgets have been dug deep and strong. Just play some dirty old boy holler dwelling country music at 10000000 decibels so the fiddles warble off the low lying hills on the outskirts of Fallujah and crash back into the ear canals of the terrorists as George Jones yodels the last verse of "west texas waltz" and snap (shoot) some advances the troops are making in mingling with the local pops/paps/peeps and seeking to develop relationships of a more personal nature. As General Al Haig used to say to W, "we kin get the job done if we let people jes be people."
here's why I win awards. It's tough getting the arab girls to pose. I may be the only shooter in Ramadi that has this shot, just contact Getty for usage.
This is one of "ours". Godspeed and happy hearts and minds, my friend.
What? God, I don't know what to think about this. Jesus christ, is this crazy or what? Holy mother Mary and Buddha, Krisna tell me please, what is the meaning of this?
Some crackpot in Tehran or Java is complaining that the mere mentioning- the rolling off of the lips- the most holy word rolling off the lips of a non believer will (further) defile the world's most overly protective. most prodigious, maybe most reactionary and most populous religion's numero uno? Allah! ALLAH! shhhh. don't say IT! Al! Please, speak to your faithful and ask them, what do you want them to call Me??? Jesus?? God??? The One and Only??? The greatest show on earth??? Just Say AL. Call me Al. A1 AL.
I mean will they cut my hand off if they hear me mutter something like, " y'all ah like goin ta the ah beach taday? vat? you say all ah? that sound like blashphemy youngster. chop chop say little (china) man. sloppy lingo equals a serious loss of limb. Jesus. Oops. Hey do they say Allah H Christ like we do but substitute Allah for Jesus? Allah Christ, Holy mother of Allah. Allah H fucking Christ when they're really pissed off?
Last time I was this confounded I tried to say the name of the artist who goes by the sign of ????#$ and whom we used to call Prince and whom we call Prince again but I don't think his real name was ever either. Now let's discuss the guy the camel jocks put their greatest hopes in, the virgins in the clouds for, the palace in which every dung burning peasant will inhabit eternally next time around but we can't say Alla... but we CAN say Boingo! Rather, let's call him Al. Paul Simon sang the song. And Buddha can be Bud, God can be Go, or, I prefer it in reverse and reverse capitalized for the jesus fucking H allah fun of it as doG, and Krisna can be Christopher.
Let's ban religion and turn the tables on these simple minded crack pots that wanna just be kill joys and issue Fat ones (phatwahs).
Al Bud Chris doG and we have most of the planet covered using our secret code which won't offend anybody. What will offend me is the full body scans at Skip hole Airport. They get to look, I better get to as well, what? Free speech and one for all and all for one ...look. But hurry up, will ya, my plane is em-planing (as opposed to DE planing?)?? Which reminds me dear reader. an ageless query almost always on my mind: if two rivers come together, it's called a confluence. What do they do when they get there? Confluct? Conflow? Lemme know so I can go to Abu Graib happily.
Do you think it's high time we ban religion and teach people that they ought to have faith in their own abilities to think critically when they get through school? That's S C (HHHHHH!!!!!!) Hool like Fool. Fool. Kansas, Hello. Calling Kansas. You are stupid. Stooopid. Stooopit. Now you know.
So why am I wandering into this dull and pointless space occupied by loud mouthed thugs ranging from Rush Limbahhh to Sheik Khomeini? One reason is that's where the money is- marketing 101 says give them FAITH. Second, cuz I just spent a month shooting material for our 'hearts and minds' campaign in outter hinterland of rag heads camel jocks and bright white crusaders and got some gritty sandy pix to post here for your new years' looking pleasure.
It LOOKS like we're WINNING the war of HEARTS AND MINDS! Looks being the keyword, and 'winning Hearts' the more meaningful of the dualie "h and m". Believe me, there's not a lot of Mind in percolating the local population that comes with a 2 year education and no books, tapes, stations, movies, or teachers. No ahhht at all.
Everywhere I went in the areas fought over- veritable octogons- by the faithful with different faiths (think Al meets doG, they have a few beers, they start yelling, they fight, they get chucked out of the pub into the sandy cobbled frozen street strewn with ass dung and chicken shit, and they see a couple of cute girlz in long dirty black robes. Whoa, my eyes!! Forget the fight, forget the faith, they say hello and the site of paradise rises anew!), there's an underpinning, a subtle moaning, a working refrain: the boys are winning the hearts- and peace and love are coming to the hinterland. Maybe girls in the military is a whole lot better idea than we thought? I wanna see them take off the collars and just get in bed with the local lads. Make Love not War. Remember when we used to say "if only the war mongers got laid? There'd be peace on earth". I digress: that was years ago on Telegraph Avenue. Now's now. But! That's when we're gonna finally have a happy coexistence. That's when we're gonna see capitulation.
That's when Al's gonna pal around with Chris and doG and Bud and maybe they're all gonna get back-burnered while they hang out at the pub casing the chicks and we can maybe take a look at some more important issues than just smackin' each other over dirty old black tar sands and blue haze-making fossils. Save some whales, some polar bears and, allah jesus h krisna, hire some good photographers. Shit I finally realized I just can't get what I need by putting this thing on auto... MATIC.
The only words I heard uttered by our peeps out on h and m ops were "oh yeah, baby!". Forget about Al and doG. Glance down. Look away. Dance. Get laid.
Brought to you by Wick Bea ver z name mispelled to keep the phat wons off my trail
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