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He is so tall and I am so small that I must dominate him, for, after-all, he is a ba'athist and not a true believer. He needs me. I find him useful for the moment, because his playpen is adjacent to Israel. I find him disgusting, but as the infidels say, "location, location, location." Eventually, I will kill him. He knows that, but tries to pretend otherwise. We could not stand any further apart and still shake right hands, and I certainly could not touch his left hand with my hand . In addition, he has no facial hair to speak of, whereas I shave every morning. Allah be praised, my facial hair comes back every evening even quicker than Nixon's. But who's that guy behind him? Mine or his? What's he packin? I'm just wearing my ultraslimline body protection so I won't look not only short but also fat. He doesn't look like he is armored at all. I guess right now would be a poor time to try and waste him. I, myself, wouldn't want to be a martyr until most of my people have been martyred. Wouldn't be fair; wouldn't be prudent; and if I don't destroy the world, who will, and if not now, when?