Happy Belated “No Fucking WMDmas”

Don't worry. You're not too late to get those last few gifts into the mail...

I know it’s been a hectic year-end for me, and probably for you too. With Fitzmas I behind us, and Fitzmas II looming ahead, I had enough shopping and parties and Fitzmas cookies to keep me plenty busy.

But then you throw in the bottomless fecucopia that is Jack Abramoff and what appears to be fully half of the Party of “We Are SO Much Holier Than Thou” slow motion exploding like a hundred, rat-infested Park District toilets going critical?

The CIA apparently tossing H/E around with less care than a myopic snack vendor at Wrigley slinging peanuts?

The Preznit violating the law and his oath of office like he was going for the High Crime land-speed record? As if abuse of power was a drinking game where he gets to do a shot of Dewars every time he blows a hole in the Constitution?

Well, you can see why, with all these major holidays packed together, one might be forgiven for acting like an American overlooking Boxing Day when it comes to neglecting to get all of one's “No Fucking WMDmas”-day gift wrapping done.

You remember “No Fucking WMDmas”, right?

The day when the predicate for Bush’s War fell into slag and was shown, finally and irrefutably, to have been pure bullshit?

The day when the GOP Revisionist/Stalinist Machine's battle to efface, yet again, and rewrite, yet again, the tawdry, reckless history of Dick and George’s Excellent Iraqi Adventure kicked into high gear.

The day when the Iraq Survey Group officially threw in the towel?

This from ISN Security Watch in January 13, 2005…

Iraq Survey Group formally ends WMD hunt
ISN SECURITY WATCH (13/01/05) - The Iraq Survey Group (ISG), a US task force charged with searching Iraq for Saddam Hussein’s supposed arms stockpiles, has officially ended its hunt for weapons of mass destruction in the occupied country and has confirmed the findings of its 30 September interim report, which contradicted nearly every assertion about Iraq made by the Bush administration to justify its invasion of the oil-rich country.

No such weapons have been found.

The White House had been reluctant to call off the hunt, professing the hope that some evidence for WMD programs could still be found, but ISG leader Charles Duelfer said that there was nothing new to add to the interim report submitted to the US Congress in September.

The ISG interviewed every individual it could find that had any connection to Iraq's earlier weapons programs, and searched every suspect site. It confirmed what former UN weapons inspector Hans Blix and Iraqi officials had been saying before the US launched its war - that there was no ongoing program for WMD.

The lack of evidence also seems to justify doubts expressed before the invasion about a number of assertions by British and US intelligence services, including British Prime Minister Tony Blair’s infamous warning that Iraq could attack western targets with WMD “within 45 minutes”, references to a nonexistent IAEA report on Iraq’s alleged nuclear program, and other statements that experts said had no basis in fact. According to Duelfer, if the ISG continued working it would only find "greater substantiation to the picture we've already put forward".
…

Fortunately, if you forgot to get that special someone something special, that's cool. As you might well imagine, the gift-giving traditions of “No Fucking WMDmas” are very screw-up friendly.

In fact, it's sort of the point.

So lets say, for example, you decided to buy your girlfriend a watch.

Well, first thing is, you don;t even try to keep it a secret. In fact, in the spirit of “No Fucking WMDmas”, you tell her waaaaaaay in advance that she’s definitely getting a watch.

A Vacheron Constantin, Tour de L'Ile to be exact.

You tell her the precise kind she’s getting. The style. Hell, you even tell her the name of the store.

In fact you bust out a PowerpPoint

and show her this picture of it.


Then this pop up detailed maps of exotic, faraway lands


just to underscore that you damned well know exactly what you’re doing.

You point to the map and say something unimpeachably authoritative like, "We know where the watches are are. They're in the area around. Tikrit and Baghdad. We know exactly where they are."

OK, so you’re also struggling couple on a budget, so when she asks about the price, brush her off.

“Coupla bucks,” you tell her. “It’s nuthin.”

And if by some freak chance she happened to be, say, a horologist and knew that --

Each of the pieces in this anniversary collection have special guilloché dials with a 'secret signature' at 12 o'clock and an exclusively shaped case and lugs. Also unique is the placement of the Poinçon de Genève hallmark on the dial in the form of a small appliqué shield.

One of the most remarkable pieces must be the pink gold Tour de L'Ile with its new caliber 2750 that required more than 10,000 hours of research and development to complete; it contains more than 834 parts.

It is also a record breaker, taking the current title of the world's most complicated wristwatch with a total of 16 complication. This is clearly a wristwatch intended to be worn and enjoyed and not kept in a vault, although only 7 people in the world will be able to have that particular honor.

-- just tell her to STFU. Question her patriotism. Ask her if she wants the terrorists to win and come and kill her? Huh? Do ya? Do ya? Terrorists? Killin’ ya? And your parents, maybe!?

Then assure her you’ll get it for a steal. The salesman’ll greet you at the door with flowers and candy and mad handjobs, and practically beg you on the life of his children to come in and “liberate” the watch.

Then – and this is very important – before you even leave for the store (in her borrowed car), tack a huge sign over the garage door that says “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED”. Then come out in your AquaMan suit (and it wouldn’t hurt to have it cut to accentuate Little AquaMan, if you know what I mean) and make a little speech about how the watch is practically in your pocket already.

Then off to the store you go!

Over the next year or two, swing back past the house every now and then to grab one of her friends, or borrow money.

When she asks what the fuck is going on, sock her in the throat, call her “objectively pro-terrorist” and drive away.

Keep it up for a year or two, and then show back up again to stay, a trillion in debt and covered in blood, with her car wrecked and a mob chasing you, and inexplicably sporting a spiffy, new Presidential Medal of Freedom.

And when she asks you where the watch is, more importantly, and why the Hell her friends are dead and her bank account has been drained, remember to give her this traditional, holiday greeting:

First, smack her upside the head and call her a liar.

Second, scream, “Watch, watch watch! All I ever hear about is that fucking watch! Why the fuck don’t you shut the fuck up already about the fucking watch!”

And third, and most importantly, make sure you let her know in no uncertain terms that anyone who asks any questions about what you’ve done is a cut-and-running, Democracy-hating coward.

So a merry-if-belated “No Fucking WMDmas” to us, one and all.