Great Flying Forks!

I think I was culturally insulted tonight. I'm not quite sure. I allude to when an Iraqi reporter threw a shoe at President Bush in December. Only in my case it was a fork flung half-heartedly to the ground near my feet. I mean who knows how many foreign insults there are, and who knows what a somewhat chucked fork means. Maybe I was meant to pick it up and wash it? Maybe it means I am lower than the dogs? Or that maybe I am considered too inhuman to talk to in person?

Whatever the case, I shall surely have to do some research and find out what insults there are for flung forks. And though I doubt my curiosity will abate in pursuit of such cultural knowledge, I want it known that I bear the fork-hurler or her co-conspirator no ill-will. Surely my actions must be comparable to President Bush's by going into foreign territory and making a mess of things. And perhaps too, like Bush; the reparations, feelings of good will and shared tribute have come too late in the game to stop the gulf from widening, to point that forks have been hurled half-heartedly. Unlike Bush, I have no troops stationed in other sovereign lands, and thus can fully embrace diplomacy by staying the minimal necessary for my diplomatic errand and leaving as quickly as possible. Tis the only way to maintain peace and ensure that forks are not flung half-heartedly again. I dare not wish to offend anyone of any sovereign nation and I hope that the decrease of my occupation may bring what many search for: peace.

Or... I could take a page out of Israel's book and cause as much destruction without caring. Though it is tempting, it hasn't worked for Israel yet and I doubt I'll fare much better.

So here is hoping that no one half-heartedly throws a fork at you. If it does happen, know that you are not alone in your shame.