Take all
American women who are within five years of menopause . . .
. . . train us for a few weeks,
outfit us with automatic weapons, grenades, gas masks,
moisturizer with SPF15, Prozac, hormones, chocolate, and canned
tuna - drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of
Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally.
Think about it. Our anger
quotient alone, even when doing standard stuff like grocery
shopping and paying bills, is formidable enough to make even
armed men in turbans tremble.
We've had our children, we
would gladly suffer or die to protect them and their future.
We'd like to get away from our husbands, if they haven't left
already. And for those of us who are single, the prospect of
finding a good man with whom to share life is about as likely as
being struck by lightning. We have nothing to lose.
We've survived the water diet,
the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet, and the grapefruit diet
in gyms and saunas across America and never lost a pound. We can
easily survive months in the hostile terrain of Afghanistan with
no food at all!
We've spent years tracking down
our husbands or lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting
events...finding bin Laden in some cave will be no problem.
Uniting all the warring tribes
of Afghanistan in a new government? Oh, please ... we've planned
the seating arrangements for in-laws and extended families at
Thanksgiving dinners for years ... we understand tribal warfare.
Between us, we've divorced
enough husbands to know every trick there is for how they hide,
launder, or cover up bank accounts and money sources.
We know how to find that money
and we know how to seize it ... with or without the government's
help!
Let us go and fight. The
Taliban hates women. Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants
with hot-flashes over their godforsaken terrain.