Middle Eastern Nights

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Hello boys and girls. Today, we enter the magical Middle-Eastern Kingdom, where our valiant prince, who doesn't exist, fights to save his princess, who prefers not to be saved.

Once upon a time, there lived two Israelis.

When they were boys, they decided they wanted to protect their family from 'The Others', who had fought many short and brutal wars with their kings for many, many years.

For many, many years, they saw their king fighting with the most powerful of 'The Others', known as Yasser Arafat. Imbued with the powers of the magical Hatredstone, which is passed on to every Israeli at least once in their lifetime, the two boys joined the army, determined to destroy 'The Others' once and for all.

As they grew up, both men fought in the many sporadic battles, which were used as a rite of passage by Israel. In their culture, a boy would never become a man if he couldn't hate, if he couldn't kill...

In one of the countries in the Ring of Deserts, otherwise known as 'The Others' to the people of Israel, a middle-age man, wise beyond his years, and ruler of his people, sat alone in his palace listening to the screams and explosions beyond the iron grated windows.

There was nothing he could do to silence the screams for help, of pain, and of death. He could only listen, and with the magical device created by a sorcerer from times past known as a tv, watch his people suffer and die.

You see, the ruler was only the ruler of some of his people - for there were others who were only his people by name...

Weeks ago, the two Israeli soldiers, emboldened by the continual support of their allied nation, The Land Beyond the Sea, prepared for an increased assault on 'The Others' with the latest weapons provided by their king.

But as they were preparing for a first salvo into the country of 'The Others', people around them suddenly ducked and pulled out their guns.

The two soldiers did the same, but alas, it was too late. For, a group of heavily armed men had surrounded them, and were pulling them towards the dreaded land beyond.

Their screams for help fell on deaf ears, for the fighting was now a long distant away, beyond the ruined brick walls and sand dunes.

Now, the ruler of Lebanon, the country in which the two soldiers were being held, paced his office. A menagerie of aids followed him, throwing all sorts of suggestions and petitions. Telling of more death and destruction. Asking him for answers.

But he couldn't give any answer which would satisfy them.

For, it wasn't his people who had brought the wrath of the wretched cancer that was Israel. It was Hezbollah's doing, a virus-like network of cults who had kidnapped the two Israeli soldiers.

He tried to explain to the Israelis - but all they could offer was an advance warning to his people to abandon their homes before they struck at suspected Hezbollah hideouts.

But how could a ruler do that? They had chosen him to protect them, yet, now he was being forced to order them to abandon their homes.

The people of Lebanon were mostly poor factory workers, or menial laborers. It took them half their lives before they could own a house of their very own. Half their lives to build a family to fill those homes. Half their lives which meant next to nothing to the bullets and mortar shells that now pierced it.

In a flash, all they had built were now gone.

Their walls were now white pebbles, their roofs now air, their children now earth.

They didn't deserve this. They didn't make this mess, yet, it is they who pay the bloody sacrificial price.

Today, over 1500 have died as a result of this war. And it is simply a war repeated over the ages.

There will be no happy ending in this story.

For anyone.

Dead of the Week: 19
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 411