How to get our troops safely home from Iraq: Make them happy!
Let's say that you are some poor GI schmuck, over in Iraq, fighting an unjust war, torturing cab drivers, watching your buddies' legs get blown off. "To hell with this," you are thinking. "I got no beef with the Iraqis. George Bush is the one who is raking in all the bucks on this war. Let HIM come over and fight it."
Tomorrow you are scheduled to go blow up yet another bunch of Ragheads, most of whom are women and children. Some of said Ragheads might not be happy about their wives and children getting barbecued and they probably might want to fight back. And despite Bill O'Reilly's dreamworld assessment of Iraqis as being "prehistoric," the average 30-year-old in Baghdad is a college graduate. These guys are formidable opponents.
You are very worried that by this time tomorrow you too might be toast.
You e-mail your mom. "Mama, get me out of here! This is a stupid, wrong-headed war. I don't want to die. Not here. Not now." Oh, Lord.
If I were that soldier's mom, what would I do? I'd say, "Son, do what you gotta do. Just get back home. I did not spend twelve whole miserable grueling hours in pain and labor to give birth to you just to have you die in some unjust and brutal attack on a country whose population is 49% children. Tell them you're gay."
And he did. And all his friends did too. And thus began the famous "Out-of-the-closet, I-love-Lavender" sit-down strike by our heroic troops in Iraq that finally ended that insane and bloody genocide -- as GI after GI told their sergeants, "Hey, man. Guess what. I'm gay."
Since the armed forces had already discharged thousands of enlisted men for being gay, the Pentagon leaders had no choice but to discharge them too and the entire American army in Iraq -- pansies and dykes to a man -- were finally sent home where they belong.
Moral: If leaders can't lead, true American patriots must lead for them. So. Troops. You know what to do: Praise the Lord and pass the mascara!