WEEKLY COLUMN:
JDM vs the WORLD

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FINE PRINT

Last night, an apparition appeared in my dreams. It wasn’t the Ghost of Christmas Past, mind you, but the Ghost of Saddam Hussein. He expressed disappointment with his Information Ministry—he called their recent performance “pure propaganda”—and asked me to help him set the record straight. Thus, though I stumbled from bed and stubbed my toe at something like 5:07 a.m., I managed to find a pad and pen with which to jot down the exclusive interview below…

Jonathan David Morris: “Can I call you Saddam?”

Ghost of Saddam Hussein: “Sí, señor.”

JDM: “Oops. Wrong translator. Let’s try that again. Ready? Okay. Can I call you Saddam?”

GSH: “Yes. You can call me Saddam. You can call me Hussein. You can call me whatever you wish. But whatever you do… don’t call me late for dinner. Drum roll, please! Thank you. Thank you very much. I’ll be here all weekend. Next question.”

JDM: “Great. Let’s start by talking about your death, because there’s been some confusion about that lately. Lots of folks think you died the first night of coalition bombing. Others think we got you when we bombed that restaurant in Baghdad. Some even think you’re still alive. So, the question on everyone’s mind, I think, is when exactly did you die?”

GSH: “Can I be honest with you?”

JDM: “If you think you’re up to it.”

GSH: “Well, to be honest with you, I’ve been dead for roughly 12 years. I actually died in January ‘91. Still, I trudge on. I’m Saddam Hussein, after all. I’m a powerful man. You think I’m going to let a little thing like dying stop me? No way.”

JDM: “That’s interesting. I think my readers will be surprised to learn that you died during the First Gulf War.”

GSH: “Which war, now?”

JDM: “The First Gulf War. The one you started when you invaded Kuwait. Remember?”

GSH: “Oh, right. That war! No, no. My death had nothing to do with that. If memory serves, I was long gone before the battle even began. It was maybe a week or two after Big Daddy Bush’s whole Get-Out-Of-Kuwait-Free thing. I actually died the night the Bills lost the Super Bowl, and a little bit of me died every January for three years thereafter. There are quite a few Saddam Husseins. I can die a bunch of times. But I had a bit of a gambling problem back then. I lost everything—my oil contracts, my pride. I even lost the shirt off my back. It was HyperColor. It changed from pink to red when you touched it with your palms.”

JDM: “You said you’re a Buffalo Bills fan?”

GSH: “Was a Bills fan, JDM. Was a Bills fan. I felt a connection with that team for a while there, but they really let me down. I mean, four consecutive championship games without a single championship? Who would’ve guessed it? So, I jumped ship. It was getting to be an abusive relationship already. I root for the Roughriders now. They’re Canadian.”

JDM: “Some would say you’ve still got a gambling problem, after staring America down at the UN.”

GSH: “Some would also say I’m trying to break the Bills’ record for most consecutive losses.”

JDM: “Are you?”

GSH: “Ah, yes, but France—if I’m not mistaken—holds that record, and it’s much more than four in a row.”

JDM: “Let’s talk about France, then.”

GSH: “Sigh...”

JDM: “Because I can pretty much speak on behalf of everyone when I ask: What the hell is France’s problem?”

GSH: “I don’t know, JDM. I just don’t know. I’ve spent many sleepless nights asking myself the same thing. What it comes down to, I think, is France has lost its mind. I said to Jacques Chirac just a couple of months ago, I said, ‘Jack, don’t do it. I’m warning you. Don’t side with me. I’m not going to win this war.’ But did he listen? No. It was very strange, if you want to know the truth. I mean, if I had the chance to side against my regime, I would’ve sided against us, too. We’re not such wonderful people, you know. Especially me. I have very little respect for human life.”

JDM: “That’s the kind of honesty that’ll get you elected in Jersey.”

GSH: “Don’t think I haven’t kept that in mind. Let me tell you something, though. If there was one good thing to come out of that whole mess, it’s that me and Jack get to switch roles now. We’ve been playing this game of good cop/bad cop since the ‘70s. You know the last time I got to play the good cop? Never! But now it’s my turn.”

JDM: “Well, how about France’s partners in crime? Germany, for example. What was their deal?”

GSH: “Germany, Schmermany. I don’t care about Germany. You know what I needed from Germany? I needed a getaway car. That’s all. Hell, I could’ve subbed Berlin with Detroit and it wouldn’t’ve hurt my vast leftwing conspiracy one bit.”

JDM: “Then you’re admitting there was a conspiracy?”

GSH: “Did I say conspiracy? Ha! Silly me. Silly Saddam. I didn’t mean to say conspiracy. What I meant to say was, uh, circumcision.”

JDM: “So there was a vast leftwing circumcision, in other words?”

GSH: “That’s right. That’s the ticket.”

JDM: “Did this include Belgium?”

GSH: “Who?”

JDM: “Belgium?”

GSH: “Come on, JDM. We’re talking about real countries here, not your fictional Neverland or Atlantis or Belgium.”

JDM: “Good point. Next question. Going back to 1991 for a moment, let’s talk about the invasion of Kuwait, which, for all intents and purposes, was a really bad career move. My question is, did you truly believe you could conquer the entire Middle East? Surely, you must’ve realized that the US and UK wouldn’t allow that.”

GSH: “Oh, I realized all right—after the fact.”

JDM: “But what were you thinking before the invasion?”

GSH: “If you want to know the truth, JDM, the truth is I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean it. I don’t know. I was drunk that night and they looked at me funny.”

JDM: “Is that the whole story?”

GSH: “Well, no. I sort of started it when I looked up a couple of their ladies’ burqas.”

JDM: “Really?”

GSH: “No. You’re dumber than you look, JDM.”

JDM: “You do understand that, in the West, you’ll be called a racist for the burqas comment, don’t you?”

GSH: “Yes, I know, but I really don’t care what the Democrats think about me anymore. Besides, it’s all true. It really happened that way. I’ve said I’m sorry a hundred times. I promise I won’t drink like that again. Can’t a man move on?”

JDM: “Moving right along, then, let’s talk about the Hollywood Left. Stars like Janeane Garofalo and Martin Sheen took a lot of heat for the comments they made about George Bush during the pre-war debate. Some say they were just exercising their free speech. Others say they were providing aid and comfort to the enemy. What did you make of it?”

GSH: “Well, on behalf of the enemy of which you speak, let me say that I took no aid and/or comfort from either of the nincompoops you mentioned. I took much more comfort from your president’s promises of a free Iraq. It sounded real nice and made me feel fuzzy inside. If I wasn’t me, I would’ve been wooed. Seriously. But as for Janeane Garofalo and Martin Sheen, let’s put it this way: I’m not a big fan of Sheen on West Wing and I couldn’t name a single picture Garofalo starred in. No, wait. There was that one about cats and dogs. I didn’t like that one. But the guy I’m really disappointed in is Tim Robbins. For my money, Shawshank Redemption is the best movie ever made. I love that movie. So I was more than a little disappointed to hear him supporting Hans Blix over George Bush. His whole line of thinking was wrong. I’m not a reasonable man. I can’t be contained. Like I said before, even my own death can’t stop me. I’m here, after all.”

JDM: “You keep referring to the fact that you’re a bad guy. This is something you’ve obviously known for a long time. The question, then, is how do you reconcile that with your continued defiance? Isn’t there some sort of moral obligation to choose good over evil once you’ve determined the difference between them?”

GSH: “What was I supposed to do, JDM? What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just speak out against what I was doing. I ran a very tight ship, you know. The risks were too high. What if I found out what I said about myself? I might’ve cut out my own tongue. That’s a chance I wasn’t willing to take, quite frankly. I like my tongue. It’s really a very nice tongue. Look.”

JDM: “No thanks.”

GSH: “Suit yourself. But about that whole Hollywood fiasco, that’s the thing about free speech that I don’t like—that it leaves room for people to mouth off. The way I see it, people will never be happy, so their leaders shouldn’t have to hear about it all the time. It just becomes nagging after a while. I mean, if those people said about me what they’ve said about Bush, I would’ve broken their legs off and beaten them. I would’ve hit them with their own legs. Have you ever been hit with your own legs before? It’s not so good. By the way, since I said all those nice things about Tim Robbins, let me say something about his lady friend --”

JDM: “Susan Sarandon?”

GSH: “Yes, her. Not a fan. I’ve seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show twice—once on VH1, once in the theater on Halloween. I was unimpressed. Tim Curry was delightful as Dr. Frank-N-Furter, though. Oh, and as for Barbra Streisand, can I just say her voice is like a weapon of mass destruction to my soul?”

JDM: “Speaking of which, one last topic: Weapons. Did you or didn’t you have them?”

GSH: “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

JDM: “Let’s not play that game, Saddam. Just answer the question. Did you or didn’t you possess weapons of mass destruction? You have nothing to lose now. Redeem yourself.”

GSH: “I believe it was Jesus who said those who haven’t sinned should cast the first --”

JDM: “I’ll take that as a yes. Anyway, it looks like we’re just about out of time, so do you have any parting thoughts?”

GSH: “Just a few. First, to those who say Bush’s war on my land was ‘illegal,’ please, I’m begging you to stop. I’ve waged illegal wars before, okay? You ruin my legacy when you say that. Second, the statue you’ve seen of me falling in Baghdad—that’s not the real statue. I’ve got dozens of duplicates in an underground warehouse, right next to the, ahem, envelopes. Oh, and one more thing. You might be thinking I’m not so bad now, but don’t let me fool you. I’ll wander the Earth touching madmen’s hearts and minds for centuries to come if you’re not careful. Curse be upon your mustache, infidel. Thanks for having me.”

JDM: “Thanks, Saddam. I think. It’s been a long night...”

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