Some people are having a go at me again. I’m not naming names but the term “liberal fascists” does spring to mind. My problem with the liberal fascists isn’t new. It dates back to the thirteenth century and to another life when I was Sultan of Delhi. And one leading liberal fascist of the day was the Oracle of Delhi. We had differences then, as now. The liberal fascists were supporters of Amir Khusro while I supported Genghis Khan. They wanted to sit around all day inventing qawwali with Amir Khusro while I was off slaying infidels with my namesake, The Great Khan. It doesn’t matter that Genghis was an infidel himself at the time. He was always a ghairatmand Pathan. As for the Oracle of Delhi, he’s been born again as a leading journo. The good news is that he’s suffering from a nasty ingrown toenail. I know because his chiropodist is an undercover member of the Tehrik-e-Insaf. He’s asked me for further instructions. “Tell the journo the whole nasty truth and ask him to consider euthanasia”, I’ve told him.
True to habit, I’ve been shooting my mouth off saying all the wrong things at all the wrong times but I can’t understand why people are surprised. After all, everyone knows I’m not the sharpest tool in the box. And I can always change what I say and say what I change. Also, why on earth do people bother remembering what I’ve said. I certainly don’t – bother remembering what I’ve said.
I’ve noticed that none of my party stalwarts is shooting his/her mouth off with one or two horrible – sorry, honourable – exceptions. The men in my party say they keep shut on their wives’ sound advice. I know what that is. 99 % sound, 1 % advice. Then there was this nasty episode with this PTI fundraiser from the US who insisted on knowing where the money went. I ignored him to begin with. But he kept badgering me. “You think I don’t remember?” he shouted. I ignored him. “I’ve got a great memory”, he screamed, “I remember every word of Lincoln’s Gettysburg address”. “Rubbish”, I said, “Lincoln doesn’t have an address. He’s been dead for hundreds of years”.
True to habit, I’ve been shooting my mouth off saying all the wrong things at all the wrong times but I can’t understand why people are surprised. After all, everyone knows I’m not the sharpest tool in the box. And I can always change what I say and say what I change. Also, why on earth do people bother remembering what I’ve said. I certainly don’t – bother remembering what I’ve said.
I’ve noticed that none of my party stalwarts is shooting his/her mouth off with one or two horrible – sorry, honourable – exceptions. The men in my party say they keep shut on their wives’ sound advice. I know what that is. 99 % sound, 1 % advice. Then there was this nasty episode with this PTI fundraiser from the US who insisted on knowing where the money went. I ignored him to begin with. But he kept badgering me. “You think I don’t remember?” he shouted. I ignored him. “I’ve got a great memory”, he screamed, “I remember every word of Lincoln’s Gettysburg address”. “Rubbish”, I said, “Lincoln doesn’t have an address. He’s been dead for hundreds of years”.
Im the Dim