Dear President Sarkozy:
Thanks so much for stepping into the power vacuum created by President Obama in regard to the current unrest in Libya.
Look, I’ll be honest, I’ve made a lot of snarky cracks about France, and dreck French movies over the past few years, but I sense that you are a different kind of French leader, one who is acutely aware of the dangers posed by the transnational Islamists and the Muslim majorities who, through their silence, have abdicated power and influence—code for terror and intimidation—to the jihadists.
Reports have filtered down that you and other European leaders are perplexed by America’s Libyan policy.
Join the club.
Clearly, America under Obama, has decided that the UN or NATO or the academic fantasy known as—drum roll please—the international community, are first bench in prosecuting this war against Libyan mass murderer and drug addicted Muammar Gaddafi, his idiot sons, and the band of merry African mercenaries who collect scalps in exchange for gold, women and Qat.
As you no doubt have noticed, President Obama has lurched from pole to pole in his statements about Libya. First there was a deafening silence. Then Obama told us that Muammar had to go, but—
But America was not going to lead the effort.
Which left you and the British to figure out that Obama might be the only person on the face of the planet who is afraid of American power.
Thus, you quickly sent in your special forces to ID targets, paint them with infrared markings, and make contact with Libyan rebels.
Feels good, huh?
Exorcising the ghosts of Dien Bien Phu and Algeria.
Muammar K, hat and wardrobe by John Galliano.
Well look, I’m just a dopey Hollywood screenwriter but let me offer my advice on this war, because G-d knows, you’re not going to get anything worthwhile from our Community Disorganizer in Chief, who is busy busting moves in Brazil, urging them to drill for oil, while blocking domestic oil exploration.
A clearly defined mission in war is a must and here’s what—excuse the pun—to shoot for:
1. Kill Muammar. Forget all the nonsense about bringing him to justice at some world court in Luxemburg or Lichtenstein or whatever third-rate country hosts this farce. Just kill the SOB, wrap the corpse in a pig hide and download the video to You Tube.
2. Ditto for the Lockerbie bomber Abdel Baset al-Megrahi.
3. After that bit of business, hand over power to whatever provisional government steps forward and then—
4. Get the hell out of Dodge. Because you are intervening on behalf of a murky group of tribes who hate each other almost as much as they hate Muammar K., and the chances of sorting out who’s on first is one of those impenetrable cultural dilemmas that westerners are simply unable to decode.
5. And because the Libyans, like Arab Muslims everywhere, will almost certainly opt for another murderous regime, probably the Muslim Brotherhood or an equally homicidal Islamist gang who will proceed to blame Israel/Jooz for, well, everything, and then loot the national treasury.
I know this sounds kind of bleak, but look, nations do not go to war in order to protect citizens from their tyrants. Nations go to war in order to protect their national self-interests, imposing their will through the use of force. Libya, under Muammar K is a rogue terrorist state. That’s why he has to go. After that, the Libyans are on their own. They can either do the hard, unglamorous work of building adequate sewage systems—which barely exist in most Arab Muslim nations—or they can retreat into the comforts of victimhood, kvetching about western imperialism and dreaming up lunatic Zionist conspiracy fantasies.
My best guess, the latter.
Good luck and hey, tell Carla that here at Seraphic Secret we really appreciate the fact that she goes to the trouble to dress and look like a lady. In contrast to Ms. Pants Suit, who, let’s face it, besides being a political embarrassment, is a fashion horror show.
One more thing: Regarding dreck French movies, I just thought of one French movie I really like: The Passion of Joan of Arc, 1928.
Oh wait, that was directed by the great Danish director Carl Dreyer.
C’est la vie.