Recently another young fly by night, here today gone this afternoon, gullible volunteer has picked up the dusty rusty worn out and broken mantle of NIAC, and given it a good run around the playground.
Fereshteh Farsh-Foroosh, or some or other name like that. It doesn’t matter. Those of us that have seen them come and go, have forgotten better people than this latest one, who has drunk the Koolaid from K Street.
One point this one made that I kind of took to heart, so bless hers for blurting it out somewhere amongst the 700 tweets she has the energy to produce. Seriously sweetheart 700 short 120 character sentences? You have that many condensed thoughts spinning around your noggin? Mashallah!”
The point was, or at least I think the point I got from her, was, “Put up, or Shut up”.
That and anything NIAC does, is gold, correct, and ridiculously above the slightest reproach.
Before I accept her premise and shut up, though, let me reproach NIAC. Again. Because I haven’t done it in a while and I miss the old bag.
I will now list the usual largely unproven accusations of NIAC being an IRI lobby, NIAC merely being an elaborate front for fund raising from the super rich and super stupid, Trita’s really badly written book sales, and the entire dumbfoundingly questionable logic behind blaming the US and ONLY the US, for the failures of US-Iran Diplomacy.
That being said, let me add that, 2000 members doth not an authorization to represent make. Or NIAC does not have the community authority to claim to represent Iranian Americans.
There is no National.
3 men, a mildly entertaining intern/tweeter/filmmaker, and a drum machine, isn’t a National presence by any means. One look at this months event calendar and all you see is another one way conversation, this time in Irvine. Yet another fundraiser to raise more funds. Maybe the folks at NIAC think it’s called fun-raiser. They do after all think other thoughts. Don’t blame the rich and brainless in Irvine either. The are just happy that since they moved out of LA, anyone would come to see them.
I am pretty sure that we have it pretty good in the US these days. Especially given the obvious animosity between Iran and the US and the growing tensions around the Uclear-Nay Eapons-Way Iran needs in order to stay alive and checkmate the US or Israel from attacking it like they did Iraq and Afghanistan. I mean, admit it the Bush administration must have given Iran Holy Hemorrhoids.
But as IA, we can’t complain. Hence no need for advocacy in DC. Or DC-cacy. We are doing so well in fact, that we actually don’t need nothing. Or in other words PAAIA.
3 men, a wacky chick, and a Wii? So where’s the Council? Zackly! They ain’t got one! Not that one is needed. Trita is like Oz. Same height.
But NIAC or the National Iranian-American Council, sounds good. Especially to those really dumb southern politicians. Impressive too, kind of like International Business Machines. Slap on a swooshy logo next, get some business cards printed up, and you’re almost there mon frere! Make some calls, sound all ‘portant-like, and darn if you cain’t git an ‘pointment er two, with a senator er two, and talk shit like you know sumpin’.
Because there isn’t anything as gullible and blissfully ignorant and wishful as an American Senator who thinks he’s talking to someone ‘portant from that there mid-‘ole eastern cuntrees. And give them credit, the men of NIAC, or as I like to call them MENIACs, do clean up nice, and smell fresh too. Except Abdi. Kid has a five o’ clock shadow by 10am for God’s sake.
And that’s the whole deal. As hard as it is to fathom why NIAC gets as far as it does in spite of the utter lack of any sort of viable argument, credibility, and value whatsoever, it isn’t NIACs fault that American Politicians take the bait, hook line and sinker, in between huge mouthfuls of bullshit that NIAC serves up to shove into their porcine gullets via the snout.
So, Heavens Carpet which does not appear to match the drapes, is right. Don’t blame NIAC. MENIAC III are just opportunists taking the opportunity to take advantage of the opportunities we don’t take the opportunity to stop them from taking, on our behalf.
Surely it is our own damn fault. We are probably too polite. No one wants to hurt little Tritas feelings, or to tell him get off the monkey-bars, that he might fall and hurt himself. We’d rather let him have fun. Plus he’s really cute in his little suit and his slicked back hair. Darling like a sex-dream with a midget, on a pony, sort of.
NIAC is like the fat woman at a wedding. She knows no one will ever dance with her. So she eats all the cake she wants, without the slightest guilt, and if you give her a dirty look, she just sharpens and narrows her unibrow into a look that says “Fuck You!” from across the room. And keeps shoveling in the sponge cake with melting dabs of canary yellow frosting on her sweaty mustached upper lip.
That’s why NIAC is the wrong girl for us.
OK shutting up now.