I am re-posting a satire I wrote a while back about Ahmadinejad and his wife. So this is old news, not "featured blog" material. But in any case, I hope you enjoy it :o)
AHMADINEJAD IN LOVE
(A first hand account by Time Magazine contributor Ramin Taheri).
There is a smell of traditional Iranian pastries and Ab-Goosht in the air as I enter the Presidential residence for my appointment with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. It is with great trepidation that I anticipate my interview with the Iranian leader, who has been the most controversial President of the most controversial country of this decade. So it is with great astonishment that when I venture into his sitting room, the man who has been infamously portrayed in the Western media as always scowling and displaying an acerbic manner is…smiling!
Not only is he smiling but, seated on a love seat in front of his fireplace, he is holding the gloved hand of a woman almost entirely clad in a black chador, with just a pair of blue eyes and some strands of blond hair poking out. Another Iranian woman who aspires to the Western standard of beauty, I think, as I take the seat offered by Ahmadinejad’s bodyguard, a burly man in a beard and olive green fatigues. My curiosity has definitely been piqued however. Who is the mystery woman? Am I finally to be allowed to meet and interview Ahmadinejad’s wife, who has, like all Iranian “first ladies” since 1979, kept a notoriously low profile since her husband’s rise to power?
As I somewhat nervously begin to set up my tape recorder and interview notes, I am interrupted by a female voice who speaks to me in English:
__ “Welcome Mr. Taheri, I am glad to meet you.”
I almost drop my tape recorder in shock. The voice coming from the chador-clad woman seated at the left of Ahmadinejad speaks with a native American accent. And it sounds vaguely familiar. I lift my head only to be greeted with her gloved hand outstretched towards me, holding de-shelled pistachios on a silver tray. I am so hungry, having skipped the meal on Iran Air and rushed straight from Mehrabad airport to the interview that I eagerly, and somewhat rudely, shove a handful of pistachios in my mouth. Big, big mistake. My mouth is so full, I can hardly chew without spitting some bits of pistachios out so I choose for now to hold them in and just smile, hoping the Presidential couple won’t notice my rudeness.
__ “Mahmoud jan may I?” The pair of blue eyes inquire from the Iranian President.
He responds with a nod of his head, at which the burly bodyguard quickly exits the room, leaving only the three of us.
__ “Oh thank god, I mean Allah, I still can’t get used to this thing” the American-accented woman utters as she swiftly takes her chador down.
The pistachios all come flying out at once, spat out with such shock and awe that it would make the U.S. Army proud. Sitting before me, hand in hand with the President of Iran is none other than… Ann Coulter, the fiery American conservative columnist who is repeatedly making news headlines with her statements on the Muslim world, 9/11 widows and minorities in America.
Far from being offended at my faux pas, both Ahmadinejad and Coulter laugh heartily at my discomfited face. Finally, it is Ahmadinejad who breaks the awkward silence first.
__ "Eeshoon Khannoome maa hasstan. Albateh, Khanoome dovvom. Taazeh yek maah hasst ke ezdevaaj kardeem.”
I secretly start wondering if I was surreptitiously slipped some ecstasy in my drink on the plane and I am now hallucinating. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and re-open them… only to find the two same grinning faces. Trembling a little, I turn on the tape recorder and start the interview. Given the turn of events, I am forced to improvise my questions.
Taheri: “Okay… Well, let’s begin at the beginning. How did the two of you meet?”
Coulter: “On the Iranian version of Dancing With the Stars, which paired American celebrities with Iranian ones. When Mahmoud first taught me bandari, I suddenly felt it, you know, I was feeling it. The rest is history.”
Ahmadinejad: “Hamoon ke Khanoom migueh, Dahanncing veet deh Es-stars.”
Taheri: But Ms. Coulter, you have been notorious for propagating anti-Muslim vitriol, what possibly has drawn you to the most high profile leader of the Islamic world?
Coulter: Well for starters, we both hate Jews and gays. So right there, you know, I swear to you Ramin, I haven’t felt this much of a connection since I dated Bob Guccione Jr. in the 90s. I never thought I could learn to love again.
Ahmadinejad: Bob Ki-eh digueh?
Taheri: Mmmmmm… Okay, but you advocated after 9/11 the assassination of all Muslim leaders and the forced conversion of their population to Christianity. And now I find you in a chaador?
Coulter: I realize now I have been going at it the wrong way all along. It’s actually easier to convert the leaders to Christianity rather than an entire population. So you see, although I am wearing the chador out of respect for Mahmoud’s entourage, I have actually not converted at all. In fact, I am teaching Mahmoud bible study on his free time.
Taheri: Your Honor…Mr. Ahmadinejad… Mr. President, this is true? You are planning to convert to Christianity?
Ahmadinejad: Chi migueh? Christiane Amanpour injass?
Taheri: Errrr… Ms. Coulter, are you serious in this plan? Or should I expect a candid camera to pop up from behind you.
Coulter: Quite serious Ramin. In fact, I believe us bodacious American babes have a patriotic duty to use our charms to neutralize the people who pose a threat to freedom and democracy the American Way. I propose we ship Pamela Anderson to Kim Jong-Il prompto, and you know I heard Osama Bin Laden had a crush on Whitney Houston.
Taheri: Yes but has he seen her lately?
Coulter: Oh well, maybe he will settle for Tyra Banks.
Ahmadinejad: Aghaye Taheri, maa messle shomaa bikaar nisstim…
Taheri: Yes you are quite right sir, I will wrap it up. Ms. Coulter one last question, how does it feel to be a Muslim man’s second wife.
Coulter: WHAT???? That sunuvabitch promised me he was single and available. Mahmoooooouuuuuuuud, MIKOSHAMETT!!!!
With that, Coulter loses no time and jumps on Ahmadinejad, her claws aiming for his eyes. I promptly leave the premises as the Presidential bodyguard bursts in to pry the two lovebirds off of each other.
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