Shock Horror: Folklore of Disaster 15


SHOCK HORROR: The Folklore of Disaster


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© Warren Fahey

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The Taliban’s repressive attitude to women appears to make the feminist folklore wheels turn at an unprecedented rate. The fundamentalist Muslim Taliban forbids the education of women, requires them to be completely subservient and to hide their faces from everyone except their husband. It is understandable that jokes would follow:

Message to the Taliban from the American people.

       Surrender Osama bin Laden or we will take all your women and send them to college.

History teaches us that we should never underestimate the power of a song. Several songs have come out of the War on Terrorism. These need to be placed in perspective in regard to how we use songs in this day and age.  The parody of a well-known popular tune is still the most favoured vehicle. This makes sense since so many people immediately recognise the song which, in turn, enables the song to gain wider circulation.

 This is the top 10 songs played on 95.8 Kabul FM on Sunday….

 1. Losing my religion – REM (Raving Edict Mullah mix)
 2. Unchained Mullahdy – The Self Righteous Brothers
 3. Aid Drops Keep Falling on my Head – Johnny Farnham
 4. Living on a Prayer mat – TaliBon Jovi
 5. Tented love – Soft (Terrorist) Cell
 6. Do you really want to shoot me? – Boy George Bush & Capture Club
 7. Rockin Allah-ver the World – Status Quaeda
 8. I’m too extremist for my turban – Right Said Mullah Mohammed Omar
 9. The Ayatollah Skank – Fatwa Boy Slim
 10. (Come up and find me) Mecca me smile – Steve Harley & Northern Rebel
 Alliance

John Warner’s contribution to the tune of the Banana Boat Song

 The Osama Bin Laden Song

Come Mr Taliban, give us that Osama,
Give him up or we’ll blow up your home.
Come Mr Taliban, give us that Osama,
Give him up or we’ll blow up your home.

Our Marines are a nasty bunch,
So give him up or we’ll blow up your home,
They’ll have all your troops for lunch,
Give him up or we’ll blow up your home.

Proof, we don’t need any proof,
We just want to blow up your home,
Truth, when did we tell the truth?
Give us a chance to blow up your home.

So come Mr Taliban, hang on to Osama,
We just love to blow up your home
We’ve got planes, artillery and armour,
Here we come to blow up your home

Whoops! Mr Taliban
Just as we get to blow up your home,
Those terrorists came from the Ku Klux Klan,
Too bad boys, we just blew up your home.

And the following sung to the tune of Tom Leher’s classic ‘Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh’ (Camp Granada) of the 1960s.

 Hello Mullah, Hello Fatah,
Here I am at
Camp Osama.
Camp is very
Entertaining,
And they say we’ll have some fun in basic training.

I went bombing
With Mohammed.
He blew up like
Haley’s comet.
No use going
To the surgeons,
There were parts of him enough for sixty virgins.

All the Sunnis
Hate the Saudis,
And the innies
Hate the outies,
But there’s one thing
We agree on:
All the beds are awful hard to get to sleep on.

Camp looks nothing
Like the pictures
They showed us all
At the recruiter’s.
And the food is
Pretty rotten.
Guess it looks like I’ve been lied to by Bin Laden.

Take me home,
Oh Mullah, Fatah!
Take me home,
I hate Osama.
Don’t leave me
Out in Afghanistan
To find my ashes in a can.

Take me home,
I promise I won’t
Pierce my ears
Or look at girls like
Britney Spears.
Oh, please don’t make me stay,
I’ve been here one whole day.

I hear airplanes,
They’re approaching
All our bases
Are exploding!
There’s no hiding
From a bomber
Must close quick now ’cause I’m leaving Camp Osama.

Sixty maidens,
And they’re virgin,
But a slightly
Different version:
They all look like
Janet Reno!
Mullah, Fatah, this is hell but how did we know?

And in the spirit of Dr. Seuss . . .

The Binch

Every U down in Uville liked U.S. a lot,
But the Binch, who lived Far East of Uville, did not.
The Binch hated U.S! the whole U.S. way!
Now don’t ask me why, for no one can say,
It could be his turban was screwed on too tight.
Or the sun from the desert had beaten too bright

But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.
But, Whatever the reason, his heart or his turban,
He stood facing Uville, the part that was urban.
“They’re doing their business,” he snarled from his perch.
“They’re raising their families! They’re going to church!

They’re leading the world, and their empire is thriving,
I MUST keep the S’s and U’s from surviving!”
Tomorrow, he knew, all the U’s and the S’s,
Would put on their pants and their shirts and their dresses,
They’d go to their offices, playgrounds and schools,
And abide by their U and S values and rules,

And then they’d do something he liked least of all,
Every U down in U-ville, the tall and the small,
Would stand all united, each U and each S,
And they’d sing Uville’s anthem, “God bless us! God bless!”
All around their Twin Towers of Uville, they’d stand,
And their voices would drown every sound in the land.

“I must stop that singing,” Binch said with a smirk,
And he had an idea–an idea that might work!
The Binch stole some U airplanes in U morning hours,
And crashed them right into the Uville Twin Towers.
“They’ll wake to disaster!” he snickered, so sour,
“And how can they sing when they can’t find a tower?”

The Binch cocked his ear as they woke from their sleeping,
All set to enjoy their U-wailing and weeping,
Instead he heard something that started quite low,
And it built up quite slow, but it started to grow–
And the Binch heard the most unpredictable thing…
And he couldn’t believe it–they started to sing!

He stared down at U-ville, not trusting his eyes,
What he saw was a shocking, disgusting surprise!
Every U down in U-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any towers at all!

He HADN’T stopped U-Ville from singing! It sung!
For down deep in the hearts of the old and the young,
Those Twin Towers were standing, called Hope and called Pride,
And you can’t smash the towers we hold deep inside.

So we circle the sites where our heroes did fall,
,P.With a hand in each hand of the tall and the small,
And we mourn for our losses while knowing we’ll cope,
For we still have inside that U-Pride and U-Hope.

For America means a bit more than tall towers,
It means more than wealth or political powers,
It’s more than our enemies ever could guess,
So may God bless America! Bless us! God bless!