Cockfight! Metaphor!

Going to War with Iraq is nothing new, which might explain why Americans aren't surprised by it, and are even slightly in favor of doing it. In fact, we have been battling Iraq for hundreds of millions of years. That is, if you're like me, and you view this entire situation as one large metaphor, and see your country as a cock, and your enemy as a competing cock. And you realize that we're going through the motions of simple, ordinary cockfighting.

We Americans are strutting around in a greasy sandbox in the back of a East Los Angeles-area Taco Bell. And while we fight over chicken feed and the right to fight another day, there are several other countries surrounding us, mostly Hispanic in geography, encouraging us cocks to kill for blood, betting that we'll tear our rival cock's neck out to later feed to your bitch, also known as Israel. And possibly Great Britain, depending on how much the former Soviet Union has wagered on us.

Seen here: An Old Tyme picture of southern gentleman cockfighting, contemplating war with Iceland. In the background: Byork.

We fight for our bitch, because she happens to lay "eggs", which metaphorically means she lays "mass amounts of crops and textiles to keep the middle class calm and able to afford Hondas." Meanwhile, you, the cock, must constantly fight with other cocks to provide and afford your bitches so that they can lay eggs, which one day will hatch, grow up and demand to go to a private University that charges upwards of $36,000 to teach your hatchling how to correctly spell Ethiopia. The private University will fail in its attempt, but will teach your hatchling how to correctly smoke pot, and O.D. at a raves, and call home to ask for more money. Later, your hatchling will denounce you, grow up, find a job working behind the desk of a huge multinational, where it will struggle with the idea of living through life completely alone and anonymous, finding its only comfort to masturbating to "furry" porn on the Internet. It will call and ask you for more money to support this habit. But no matter, you are a cockfighter. You metaphorically accept these things. And you have come to enjoy the war portion of the program, as it takes your mind off of your of your hatchling's college education.

An artistically metaphorical expression of cockfighting. It is meant to symbolize the way you neglect the people you care about most in life, including your boss.

And now, one of the most feared cocks in all the world, The United States of America and the scrappy, yet dirty underdog, Iraq, circle each other in the ring. Metaphorically, of course. The United States cock claims that the Iraq cock has "nuclear weapons" hidden in his symbolic anus, and plans to launch allegorical missiles at the United States when he has his figurative back turned. The Iraq cock allegorically disputes these claims, saying he "doesn't have metaphors" and has invited the United States cock to "inspect his anus, anytime." Adding: "Bitch." And most certainly: "Squawk."

This is an impressive picture, don't you think? And get a load of the tickets bit, huh! Seems to me it's saying something about humanity, even a reference to Chaucer. Though you'll have figure that part out, and only if you've read your Dante.

So who's right in this eternal argument? Perhaps both. Perhaps "Iraq" truly does have nuclear missiles, though one has to wonder: since the battle has been going on for years, why hasn't that cock used them yet? And if America doesn't know for sure, why then metaphorically be such a complete asshole about it? Seriously.

We'll be honest: we ran out of cockfighting pictures. So imagine these women are gigantic roosters, strutting around, flapping their wings, plucking each other's eyeballs out, boasting that one is a bigger cock than the other. Now imagine that one of them is Susan B. Anthony, and she's a hot piece of tail. Does that not just blow your mind or what?

Some of the surrounding "countries" are now openly questioning if the United States is using this "nuclear weapons in the anus" bit to mask the U.S. cock's alleged injuries and shortcomings, such as "is his ankle broken?" (i.e., are they trying to take attention away from a failing economy and president?); "is he looking past Iraq to his next opponent?" (i.e. Is this a metaphorical "Wag the Dog" ploy to get reelected?) or just "is he no longer the cock he used to be?" (i.e., can our top cock no longer satisfy his wife, and is taking his anger out on Iraq?) Because the truth is that cocks don't need a reason to fight. We are drugged up birds that, when placed in a circular sandbox, instinctively seek out a fight to the death with our opponent.

Which is a problem for Iraq, because the United States of America is one huge cock. And it definitely has nuclear missiles. And we're not talking metaphorically, either. Real missiles, that we plan on using against Iraq, just to show them the dangers of having their own missiles. And bombing them out of the sandbox is something those fucking dicks deserve for not letting U.N. inspectors into their anus for the past three years.

- Brandon Stahl

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