Monday, May 02, 2011

If Osama bin Laden is dead, why am I not drinking with Satan?

On September 11, 2001, I woke up in Esquimalt, BC to get ready for another day at work. I got myself tuned to CBC Radio because at the time Victoria’s morning DJ’s were a little on the lame side, and I needed something a little more intelligent.

It was then when I heard news of the Pentagon and the World Trade Center being attacked. And I thought to myself, “Great. Now my day is complete.”

Actually, it didn’t really start of that way. I woke up hearing President Bush railing against evil foreigners on American soil and how they were going to face retribution. And I thought to myself, “Great. Another fucking day in Paradise.”

So I got washed up, dressed up and walked all the way to the ship where I had to train all these sailors-to-be. And as soon as I got aboard I headed off to the main cafeteria where virtually every lower-deck denizen was glued to the tv screen showing a blazing WTC building. Then a huge jet plane swooped into another building. Minutes later, they fell. And I thought to myself, “Great. The End Times are here.”

From that point on, Osama bin Laden killed my buzz, divided peoples, triggered wars and exposed the dark side of a religion that can only be explained – and worshipped in – Arabic.

And now, 9 years, 7 months and 21 days later, justice has been meted out.

Or has it.

Before we high five each other, drink ourselves silly and have dogs and cats living together, allow us to think real carefully about what may, or may not, have transpired.

According to news reports, US special forces (or it could be JTF2, Spetznaz or Mossad – these things don’t necessarily happen on their own) raided a compound in the little Pakistani hamlet of Abbotabad where they encountered a firefight. In the end, bodies were carried out, identified, then disposed according to Islamic customs.

Now, if you were the president of the Most Powerful Nation of the World, you would do anything to see someone like bin Laden tagged-and-bagged, dead or alive.

If you were the World’s Most Wanted Person. you would pull out all stops to make like a hole in the water.

Now let’s extend that a little further. Let’s suppose if you were a world leader who appeared to be getting it from the Left, the Right and even the Centre for attempting to be everything to everyone and pleasing no-one in the process, whose approval ratings were sinking faster than the Titanic, whose country’s economy was showing signs of multiple-personality disorder and whose detractors were demanding to see your birth certificate, baptismal record and signs of your first bowel movement in the country of your birth, you would do anything to gain their trust, confidence and respect.

And let’s suppose if you were the World’s Most Feared Terrorist Leader who was sick and tired of being sick and tired of running and doing nothing, who claimed to have united a religion yet because of greedier warlords had fractured itself further and wanted to pull just one more big operation before succumbing to kidney failure, you would do anything to attain anywhere close to Godhood.

The events leading up to bin Laden’s demise, and his eventual burial at sea, appear too good to be even remotely credible.

The least intelligent amongst the masses would celebrate in the streets.

The more intelligent civilians would acknowledge the feat, yet remain vigilant.

The more intelligent and sceptical would demand answers right from the start.

But it will always be the cynics amongst us asking, “What?”

I can count myself as one of these cynics.

Is bin Laden really dead? Did he really wanted to go out as a Shaheed? Was he willing to risk his life by living at a relatively open mansion? Was it really his corpse getting dumped into the sea?

Or was it all make believe?

Could Osama have used many different body-doubles so he could make a safe, hasty exit?

Could Barack Obama have staged the whole operation to prove to the sceptical world that he is a true leader of his nation?

Did all this stuff really happen?

If I were Osama, I would make sure nobody would get me, dead, alive or otherwise.

If I were Barack, I would make sure that I have Osama right in front of me, dead, alive or otherwise.

If everything did happen, and if the stories were true, then given the way sectarian wars go, things will get ugly.

If everything were a lie, things will get ugly.

I guess that’s the way God wants it .

But suppose Osama’s really dead. If that were the case, I’d be having breakfast with the Devil, for He wouldn’t stand the eventual competition.

Even Satan has feelings, too.