THE PRESIDENT: Good morning. I am pleased to somberly and regretfully cheer that Palestino Chairman Yasser Arafat is dead. Wait, alive. No, dead. On death's doormat. Clinging to life. No, dead. Whatever. According to my schedule, Saddam Lite, who secretly ate a celebratory Ho-Ho when the Trade Center towers fell, should kick the bucket any minute now.

Yasser Arafat was many things to many people – a crybaby, a gnarly muppet, a terrorist, and an ineffectual, money-hoarding huckster masquerading as a statesman. And while I never stooped to meet with him, I can at least appreciate a leader who surrounds himself with squirrelly yes men who rationalize running a people's economy and government straight into the crapper. And so I say unto that little rat man with the oily, hummus-encrusted whiskers: "God bless your soul."

Because Chairman Squishy – you're gonna need it. I have it on good authority that Yahweh has 72 black-eyed virgins with crocodile tooth vaginas waiting for you in Hell.

Get the GODLY New Book!

Much will be written about how Hillary Clinton's husband offered you statehood for those pathetic patches of land you call Palestine, but which I call "East Jewland." I don't know what my predecessor was thinking, trying to engage you in diplomacy. You're a weaselly little thug and I knew that if I prayed hard enough, eventually you'd die of completely natural causes, like poison.

Of course, there are a lot of Homopeans who bitch up a storm about how put-upon your people are. Boo-hoo. The Palestiniacs have a country, and it's called "Jordan." One might argue that Palestinostan is a political issue not dissimilar from Britain's trouble with (and fascist smackdown of) the Micks, but let's just agree to agree with me on this one.

The Palestinians are terrorists, plain and simple. Even the little ones. Blowing themselves into Alpo is like a hobby over there. And for what? I mean, being penned in like pigs and treated like third-class citizens by a ridiculously militarized theocracy sounds like some kind of paradise to me! I'm guessing the only reason those people celebrate homicide bombing is because it makes them feel cool and included – like joining a secret society, or gang-banging a New Haven streetwalker on the DEKE pool table.

I have to confess though – ever since I took office and washed America's hands of the politically troublesome responsibility to play peacemaker in that mess we created, I've really enjoyed watching that whole Israel-Palestine thing spiral into a total clusterfuck. As someone who never bothered to learn about foreign stuff, I have no real opinion on which group ever held the real moral high ground – I just know that by now, both sides have so much innocent baby's blood on their hands, it's enough to make an aspiring global emperor like me pop a rock-hard boner.

Anyway, as a President who is owned outright by America's Southern Evangelicals, it is my job to defend Hell-bound Jews from Hell-bound Muslamoids – just long enough until Jesus comes back to slaughter all their loonybird, false religion-following asses.

And my friends, now that old Picnic Basket Head is dead, we're one step closer to that glorious day.

Thank you, and may God bless pre-Rapture America!

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