The Assassinated Press

American Culture Finally Catching On In Iraq.
Insurgents Taunt American Captives With 'No Snitchin' Busta Rhymes Raps Played At Ear Bleeding Decibels For 72 Hours Straight.
Iraqis Learn From Rappers, American Troops That 'No Snitchin' Is Bitchin'.

By YASO ADIODI
The Assassinated Press
5/15/07

An Nasiriyah, Iraq— “I’ve lost all respect for the Iraqi people,” said Sgt. Grady Piffle of Fort Turkey Colon, Missouri. “They can see some schmuck planting an IED in the road and still they won’t come running to us and tell us about it.”

“Well, perhaps they don’t like you,” countered this reporter.

“What’s not to like?” Piffle sneered pressing the barrel of his AK47 against my Adam’s apple.

“Well,” I continued. “Didn’t a recent survey taken by the military itself show that a majority of American forces would not report on their fellow soldiers even if they saw them murder innocent civilians?”

“That’s right. I ain’t no fuckin’ snitch,” Piffle responded.

“Don’t you think the Iraqis might feel some ties to the insurgency being from the same culture and all? And maybe they look at you as the occupier,” I said. “You’re probably too young to remember those asinine Red Dawn movies, but it’s the same premise. I mean that’s the way it is with much of the black community in the U.S. Don’t snitch to pasty little officer Piffle because he says he doesn’t have any respect for us unless we ‘Tom’ the little motherfucker to death. Don’t you think then that all three subcultures, poor African-Americans, the Marines and the Iraqi people share a common interest in no snitch clauses albeit for their own reasons? Self-preservation maybe? But you might expect the Iraqis to be the most justified because assholes like you have traveled 11,000 miles to turn their ancient culture into a subculture of the most stupid, thumb sucking culture on the planet.”

“Buddy, you sure can talk some horseshit. Maybe its time you move along,” Piffle said.

“No. No. Let the motherfucker talk,” interjected Corp. Biff Loman of Fort Limepit, Ohio. “So what your sayin’, pal, is that we’ve got to look beyond the immediacy of our situation to the people who made Iraq this shithole to begin with like Don Rumsfeld and Dick Cheney. You mean learn the background. Well, motherfucker once you’re here its tool fuckin’ late to learn anything but how to stay alive.”

“Don’t you think that’s by design?”

“Look. We’ve been out here humpin’ for two days looking for these three numb nuts from Fort Drum. Does that make any fuckin’ sense. There dead, man. We’re out here, three tours in, part of the so-called surge, lookin’ for three corpses.”

“Probably so,” I said. “Hopefully, their captors won’t torture them by playing ‘No Snitch Zone’ music at high decibels like you fucks do when interrogating people.”

“Hey, motherfucker. You dissin’ Busta Rhymes?” Piffle bristled.

“Well. First, I don’t see Busta here” gesturing across the desert. “So one might be excused for accepting Cam’s admission that the No Snitch Shit is just a cynical business move. You pump it up in your lyrics, so then you got to adhere to the ‘code’ in your everyday experience. First, this demonstrates that rappers and their audience really don’t get capitalism. Capitalism thrives on lies and duplicity. The bullshit canard is at the heart of capital. Just fuckin’ look around. And all that shit about Cam wouldn’t turn in a serial killer who lived next door even if that serial killer eyed his little brother waiting for the right moment to split him open with his dick and an axe and then cook the kid’s kidneys and eat them with a plate of beans. That’s some on camera, sell fuckin’ CD, cynical horseshit. You think Cam’s got the Jeffrey Dahmer Cookbook in his extensive library right next to the Lautreamont? You think that little shit goes to auction to buy John Wayne Gacy’s clown paintings? You guys really are stupid enough to be out here. But what does that say about me?”

Silence.

“And if the insurgents torture American captives by playing some Busta Rhymes crap about his bitches and hos and what he’ll do to them if they snitch at ear bleeding decibels, will you assholes be satisfied that the Iraqis are finally accepting American democracy? I mean they would be linking Abu Graib and Gitmo, the two most important American contributions to world culture, violence and neotonous popular culture in the form of infantile thumb sucking music. If a guy ‘snitches’ while he’s getting the hot lead enema, are you fuckers gonna point fingers? Does Busta Rhymes, all up in his own shit, back in the U.S., get to point fingers? Do Cheney and Gonzales, Gates and Hadley and all of those lying, authoritarian shits get to point fingers? Does the ‘no snitchin’ rule include having your finger nails pulled out or is it a just another capitalist/democratic way to exploit the death of someone to make money and then have the kiwis to call it a fuckin’ code? Whitey, please. Why don’t we pull Busta Rhymes’ or Cam’s or Dick Cheney’s finger nails out and see how long the don’t snitch rule holds up. Better yet. Let’s crank up some of that rap or country or rock crap for 72 hours straight and see if we can’t choke some honesty out of fuckin’ anyfuckin’body in that fuckin’ Disney delusion of a country called the yoU. Ass Of A.”


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