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Attila the Pun
Monday, January 24, 2005
 
From slapping the monkey to slapping the mother

You really can't make this stuff up. From the WaPo:

By all accounts, Imaad, 32, was a typical, mild-mannered college graduate who spoke English well and had quietly supported the U.S. presence in Iraq -- until Jan. 5, the night the soldiers came.

His story about that night, told days later in his small living room, is the story of how the U.S. military made an enemy of one man during a 20-minute encounter.

On the night of Jan. 5, Imaad and his mother, Um Imaad -- both of whom declined to give their full names for fear of retribution -- were watching a movie in the living room. As in most other parts of the capital for the past two months, their Adhimiya neighborhood has electricity about two hours a day. So the generators outside were humming at about 9 that night, and the television was turned up so they could hear.

Imaad said they were startled by a loud banging at the door. He went quickly to open it. When he did, Imaad said, there were about a dozen U.S. soldiers standing with their guns pointed at his head.

The soldiers went to search his bedroom. He heard laughing, and then they called for him, he said. Imaad went to his room and saw that the soldiers had found several magazines he kept hidden from his mother. They had pictures of girls in swimsuits and erotic poses. Imaad said the soldiers spread the magazines on his bed and put his Koran in the middle.

"This is a good match," Imaad said one of the soldiers told him.

"It was a nightmare," he said. "I will never forget those bad soldiers when they put the Koran among the magazines."

Within 20 minutes, the soldiers left without arresting him or his mother. While the soldiers went next door to search his neighbor's house, Imaad began to slap his mother, he said. "The American people are devils," Um Imaad recalled her son repeating.

Imaad and his mother said they had no memorable encounters with soldiers before Jan. 5, no reason to hate or mistrust them. But Um Imaad said she had been distraught since that night at the changes in her son, a plump man with a round face and a receding hairline. His father died in the Iran-Iraq war two decades ago, leaving mother and son with only each other for support.

Um Imaad brought Imaad pills from the doctor to try to calm him. He looked at the yellow ones, then the red ones and refused to take them. "All these belong to Jewish people," he said, pushing one set aside. "And these others are from bad or foreign people."

Imaad said that two weeks after the raid, he was still struggling to return to normal. He was no longer hitting his mother, but he still would not allow her to watch foreign television or buy products made outside Iraq.

Unfortunately for is johnny-come-lately types, Tim Blair already has a line by line mockery of the whole pathetic thing, whilst Iowahawk, who has been burning white hot lately, has further shocking reports:

Mustafa, 26, a college graduate with a degree in Psychology, seems an unlikely candidate for the Iraqi resistance. All that changed one afternoon when US soldiers raided the modest home he shares with his mother in Mosul.

“The soldiers, they are to be coming into the house without the knocking,” he recalls. “I was in the basement, innocently to IM some of the friends on the AOL Messenger, as for not to listen to Mother always for complaining about the job-seekings.”

After his mother allowed soldiers to search his room, a detachment of Marines soon found one of Mustafa’s dreaded secrets: his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Underoos.

“It began with the laughings,” he recalls tearfully. “Then they began to toss the Underoos from crusader to crusader, and to interrogate about the, how you say, ‘skidmarks.’”

By the time the soldiers had left, the devastating experience had taken its toll. After slapping his mother uncontrollably, Mustafa had vowed to join the resistance to exact revenge on the Americans.

“I will behead the Infidels, and show the world that they are the ones with the humorous underpants, not me,” he says, angrily.

He has more.

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