picture it: moscow, new year's eve 2010
you're a suicide bomber--a woman, because who would suspect that?--strapped into a bomb vest meticulously connected to a freshly-purchased cell phone, the number of which is possessed only by the control who will dial same at the precise moment at which your murderous, suicidal ass is positioned for maximal damage in red square at midnight, thus blowing you and a few hundred of your nearest revelers to smithereens.
as you nervously await your cue at the safe house, you go over and over the plan in your head, looking for flaws, but there are none.
well, almost none.
if it's any consolation, know that even the forensic investigators later combing through the wreckage of your safe house and collecting what's left of your remains with a tweezer won't fault you for not anticipating that your service provider might want to cement its bond with you, their new customer, by sending you an early and unexpected "happy new year!" text message.
i tell ya, the only thing that could make this story more perfect is janet napolitano jumping in front of a camera and proclaiming, "see? the system worked!"
2 comments:
What an irony.
I guess the only thing worse than railing against consumer capitalism is trying to use it to attack...
There's a wonderful Warner Bros. cartoon aspect to this story, as when the Martian sticks a bomb down Bugs' rabbit hole and when it doesn't go off immediately, asks "But where's the Kaboom? There's supposed to be a big KABOOM!" He sticks his head into the hole to see what the matter is -- and THEN there's the Kaboom!
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