The Team Behind the Mask
Today, I’ll talk about a foe dressed as a friend.
But before that, it’s only fair to introduce the team he proudly plays for.
This team supports the only dove of peace in the Middle East — a dove so peaceful it consumes every olive branch in sight, including those that never belonged to it. Why? Because that’s how peace is achieved. Yes. Peace.
If other doves dare to say they also have the right to eat, they’re silenced.
If they refuse to leave peacefully, many of them are killed, and the remaining olive trees are burned — just to encourage the rest to relocate voluntarily.
Who cares? They’re not from Uncle Sam’s breed, so objections are unnecessary.
Prophecies, Cartoons, and Soft Power
This team is also fond of prophecies — not the kind written in holy books, of course.
That would require faith.
Instead, they write their prophecies in cartoons and comic books, Why not? far more people consume cartoons than sacred texts.
The grand goal?
Convince people to abandon their religion — or at least doubt it.
Despite all expectations — and for reasons absolutely unrelated to the team’s intellectual limitations — they still didn’t succeed.
Meet the Recruiter
Now that the stage is set, let’s talk about my foe — the one they sent to recruit me.
They say: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
But imagine if that enemy also owes you a lot.
Imagine if that enemy believes he’s manipulating you, while in reality, you’re using him.
Why on earth would I send him away?
Where would I find such a useful specimen again?
Why should I let him know the truth and risk him returning with a revised strategy, when I can let him believe he’s winning?
Efficiency matters.
Burning Plans in Mickey Mouse Land
Yes, after everything is said and done, he will burn the old plan and prepare a new one.
Full credit goes to the country of Mickey Mouse — a place where strategy is endlessly recycled, just with different wrapping. Perfection matters.
But there’s still hope.
The Sperm Strategy
They know they can’t recruit me, so they decided to aim lower.
They don’t want the man — they want the sperm.
No, not the minister’s sperm.
That one deserves its own article.
They want my sperm.
I’m not sure why they’d want genetic material from a bald man who isn’t even from Uncle Sam’s breed — but who am I to judge? Apparently, special bloodlines don’t belong exclusively to Uncle Sam anymore.
Honestly, I was intrigued by the experiment.
I wanted to see whether my sperm would grow into what they want… or into everything I am — and more.
Unfortunately, after this article and after exposing their agent, this experiment might never go live.
But then again — who said it had to happen?
It’s not like it was written in their prophecy.
