Dear Mahmoud Ahmadinejad: if you want to be taken seriously as a world leader, you're going to need to step it up in the clothing department. At least get yourself a clip-on. That look you went with in your victory speech - that look doesn't say "I'm the President of Iran," it says "I'm a math teacher enjoying my day off in the home improvement section of Barnes & Noble. Later I will hit the food court and get myself a bean burrito."
Actually, maybe it's appropriate that Mahmoud didn't go with the "I'm the President of Iran" look since, in fact, he isn't. Many people in Iran, at least, don't believe he is. Especially the young people who voted for somebody else because they're sick of living under a tyrannical regime that seems hell-bent on alienating every other responsible nation on Earth (Americans know the feeling after 8 years of George the Clueless). The anti-Mahmoud people over there believe the election was rigged, and they're spitting mad about it. And what could've tipped them off that there was something funny going on with the vote count? The fact that Mahmoud won by an unrealistic landslide margin, for one thing. But what really gave it away was when Katherine Harris was spotted getting into Ahmadinejad's armored Saab. They knew they were screwed then.
Of course there's nothing the protesters or anyone else can do about it: Ahmadinejad is the president, and they'll just have to learn to live with that. Unless they'd like to take matters into their own hands and blow the monkey-looking motherfucker into small pieces. If America had any clue, we'd have covert people over there right now helping them bring this about. We'd do a Salvador Allende job on him. Or even better: a Moe Green job. Shoot him through the eye while he's getting a massage. Unfortunately, America doesn't have that kind of finesse anymore. All we know how to do is roll tanks in, then stand around and wonder why everyone hates our guts. The only people we can deal with anymore are scared shitless, half-witted teenage pirates armed with rusty AKs. Anything more challenging than that and we're like Ashlee Simpson with a Rubik's cube. We don't even know where the fuck to start.
