Wednesday, August 10, 2005
My Straw Poll on Aussie Terrorist Video
No, I am not talking about sex. 12 imams were asked about UBL and September 11. Most of them said words to the effect of “Shit! How the f#ck should I know?”
Also, yesterday, we were greeted with the prospect of a home-grown terrorist telling us that if we keep killing people in Philistine, we can expect to be killed.
I thought I would take my own straw poll. I asked 12 people (mostly Aussie Mossies and their friends) what they thought of the dude. My survey question was quite probing, and went something like this:
“Wadya reckon of that Aussie al-Qaida dude?”
The responses were quite interesting but not all that surprising. I am no demographer, but I reckon my sample was probably a bigger reflection of reality than the HUN’s.
First, I asked my distant cousin who works in an office in town as a professional power-chick. She was the first subject of my poll.
“Mate, that guy, I swear, he is just wrong. Like, what a fruitcake! Where did they get him from? I mean, I could’ve done a better acting job!”
Her dad works in the same office. He is a high-powered corporate type with a thick Punjaboriginal accent.
(Punjaboriginal is a derivation of 2 accents – stereotypical indigenous Australian and Pubjabi. Punjabi + Aboriginal = Pubjaboriginal!)
“Look I never vaaatch Chanil Nan. Too busy reading Finaaanshul Ruviooh!”
I then got a call from London. Well, not exactly. David has just moved from London, and lives under the shadow of Auburn’s Gallipoli Mosque. He’s married to an Aussie Mossie lass. I put the question to him.
“Seriously, that guy reminded me of Ali-G.”
Later, I joined an Aussie Hindu friend of mine, her partner and some friends for dinner. As usual, everyone was drinking wine except me. And as always, I was getting drunk on fumes! So in this inebriated state, I thought I would pop the question to this drop-dead-gorgeous Tamil babe. Her response?
“I thought I saw that guy in the Life of Brian.”
Her partner, the lucky English bastard, was somewhat more conservative.
“He is certainly no Tony Blair.”
As the night wore on, I received a call from my clerk. She had just woken up after being up all night and then off to uni. I popped the question to her (though admittedly with some amendments).
“No, I wasn’t in bloody Afghanistan! I was doing my bloody assignment. Have you been sniffing wine again?”
As the aroma of wine flowed more freely up my nostrils, the subject turned to my rocky lovelife. In my case, that involves making fun of people with “exsunts” from Dunedin. I was just waiting for my sweet Kiwi to call me so I could pop the question to her. I can just imagine her answer.
“No, look, Urfen. I hev told yoo I kennot bay your gilfrund et thus stage. Yoh know hioo much I hate ut win you git drunk on fumes! I keep tilling you - stuck to the orange jose!! Call me win yo are sober. End thet tirrurust dude locks like sumthung eoot of a bed Montay Pythun movay!!”
Ah, the sorrow of unrequited love!
Instead of my pretty Kiki, I had to put up with a comparatively less physically attractive male lawyer mate from uni. Now this bloke is so right wing, he would make a certain ABC Board member look like Che Guevera. At the same time, he is very conscientious with his work.
“Irf, as if I have the time to watch the Today Show in the morning. I only watch it to catch a glimpse of your ugly brown face on the tele.”
This morning, I called my old schoolmate, a chorister and hard-core Anglican. His wife is sick of having me around to watch comedy channel on their Fox-TV. And she just shakes her head as she watches her husband and his best man behave like schoolboys as we recite lines from the Naked Gun series.
“Yeah, I saw that bloke. Looks like a case for Frank Drebbin. He looks like something you’d watch on the Naked Gun. I’m more worried about those Melbourne sheiks.”
I couldn’t help but agree with him.
Finally, I thought I had better ask a representative of tomorrow’s Australia. I showed my 8-year-old nephew the video and asked what he thought of the Aussie terrorist.
“Mamoo [Urdu for "uncle"], that guy isn’t for real.”
Looks like my cousin makes more sense some Sydney talkback callers. But given some of the attitudes attributed to Victorian Imams, I can understand why they would be scared.