Friday, May 29, 2015

My Fair Omar: The Musical

(FYI, here's my latest for The Megaphone.)

I offer the following song selections (with apologies to Alan J. Lerner and Frederic Lowe, the chaps responsible for the originals) as an adjunct to or replacement for “Omar Khadr: Out of the Shadows,” the documentary being aired by our Khadr-besotted state broadcaster, the Ceeb.

1) Papa Khadr sings:
I'm getting sprung from jail this morning.
Dingbat Chretien fell for my line.
He pulled strings for me;
Couldn't ignore me,
So get me to jee-had on time!
 
I'm gonna be there soon enough now.
Hook up with my pal ObL.
I said with great clarity,
I'm running a "charity,"
So get me to jee-had on time!
 
If I am shooting,
Watch out, kafirs.
If I am preaching,
Open up your ears!
 
'Cuz I'm running off to Talibanstan.
Help them undo the kafirs' crime.
Soon I'll have virgins
For afterlife urgin's
So get me to jee-had,
Get me to jee-had,
Allah, please get me to jee-had on time!
 
2) Omar Khadr, chillin' down in Gitmo, sings:
All I want is a room back there.
Far away from the Gitmo air.
Where I won't have a care.
Oh, wouldn't it be heavenly?
 
Lots of people who'll vouch for me
Like, for instance, Dennis Edney.
I'll live with him, yipee!
Oh, wouldn't it be heavenly?
 
Oh, so heavenly going right back home
To my birth place.
I'll be sure that I am good;
I promise to know my place.
 
Lawyer Edney will keep me straight.
He knows Harper is full of hate.
I'll sue,
Boo hoo,
Too late.
Oh, wouldn't it be heavenly?
Heavenly,
Heavenly,
Heavenly!
 
3) Omar's supporters--a chorus/mob of self-righteous poseurs and bien pensants--sing:
Just you wait, Stephen Harper,
Just you wait.
We will make you pay for your pernicious "hate."
You must really loathe our Omie
Who is our beloved homie--
Ha ha, Stephen Harper, just you wait.
Just you wait, Stephen Harper, till the vote,
And we work to do you in--you will be smote.
'Cuz with HDS* we're burning
And your Tories we'll be spurning.
Oho, Stephen Harper, just you wait...
 * Harper Derangement Syndrome
 
4) A wistful Omar sings: 
They've grown accustomed to my face.
The one when I was just a lad.
They've grown accustomed to my eyes--
So bright and yet so wise.
My highs, my lows, my woes, my nose
Are second nature to them now.
Like voting for Justin Trudeau.
They were so knee-jerk in their thinking
And in making me their pet.
Have they all forgotten about medic Speer?
You bet!
They've grown accustomed, my huge throng,
Think I can do no wrong,
Accustomed to my face.

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