Shouting "Death to America" and "Death to the government of running dog US puppet Hamid Karzai", thousands of Afghan villagers hurled stones and cobs of festering goat shit at police yesterday as they vented their fury at American air strikes that local officials claim killed over 150 civilians.
The riot started when an entire tribe of poverty-stricken landless peasant fucks from three villages - struck by US bombers in the early hours of Tuesday - brought 150 newly-discovered bodies in a truck to the house of the provincial governor. As the crowd pressed forward in Shit al Arab Street, police opened fire, killing all the protesters.
A local official, Abdul bin an Gone, told Pox News yesterday that he had collected the names of 150 people who had been killed by the US planes - making it the worst civilian bombing incident since the last civilian bombing incident.
A phone call from the governor of Farah province, made via two cocoa tins and a very long piece of string, in which he said that over 150 people had died, was played over loudspeakers in the Afghan parliament in Kabul.
This sparked demands by greedy criminal politicians for a bigger cut of the US-controlled opium trade to provide for their Swiss bank account ‘golden parachute’ nest eggs ready for when the Taliban take over again.
The protest in Farah City is the latest sign of a very pissed-off Afghan reaction against US air attacks in which explosions inflict massive damage on crap-brick houses that provide zero protection against Dime - dense inert metal explosive - bomb blasts whose titanium micro-shrapnel shreds human flesh and bone like gossamer.
A claim by American officials, which was repeated by the US Secretary of Sleaze, Hilarious Rodent Clinton yesterday, stated that the Taliban might have killed the villagers with grenades because they did not pay an opium tax, was not supported by any eyewitness survivors.
This was further disproved by pictures of deep bomb craters, one of which is filled with a 'doggies and rats delight' choice smorgasbord assortment of human body parts.
Clinton expressed regret for the incident but did not go so far as to accept blame – issuing a singular “Whoops”.
A Taliban spokesman informed the war correspondent for the Gardeners Weekly that the US ariel bombing attack on the villages was in reprisal for a suicide bomb that snuffed a baker’s dozen of Afghan army troops in an attack on a foreign military convoy close to Farah the previous day.
While no US troops were killed by the explosion, two shit their pants in fright which prompted the retaliatory air attack.
A US military evaluation contingent in M1114 up-armoured Humvees moronically drove into the Farah village areas today playing the “Star-Spangled Banner” on loudspeakers and giving away Hershey bars and bubble gum to children still able to limp or crawl.
Obviously the US hearts and minds policy isn’t going to work here – much as it didn’t in Vietnam where the US previously suffered humiliating defeats – both politically and militarily – by a far more determined foe that was grossly underestimated by Ivy League morons – the WASP type of privileged cretins who could fuck up a perfectly good anvil.
Then, as today, the philosophy of “when you have them by the balls their hearts and minds are sure to follow” didn’t work then and it won’t work now.
The Afghans, while being viewed by the US invaders as persons of lesser merit, have been kicking foreign arses out since before the time of the Greek butt-fucker Alexander the Great.
Perhaps they have never seen a food processor or an MP3 player, and don’t really give a flying fuck about global warming or their individual carbon footprint, but the US should be reminded, when in Kabul, to view the Raj era Memorial of Remembrance to all those who died trying to keep Afghanistan 'British'.
They might be served well to also view the Taliban sign, posted on the road out of Kabul, as they drive south-west towards Tarin Kowt – which reads “Beware – here there be Martyrs”.
Enough to make a sensible man go whistling past the graveyard at a steady pace on any dark night - without a single glance over his shoulder.
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