The Mad King Of Wonderland
By Douglas Herman

There once was a young king of Wonderland, who stole his throne during a wonderful peaceful coup. "I am a uniter not a divider," he gloated. And then he took a vacation.
While on vacation his black jester read him a report. The terrorists were at the gates, said the report. The king of Wonderland wondered what the report meant. Other friendly spys and ministers from surrounding kingdoms said the terrorist group numbered only a few but would attack very soon. But the king went fishing, golfing, and biking instead and Wonderland slumbered, slumbered in the late summer sun.
The king of Wonderland, as everyone knew, had the biggest army, navy, air force, spy and security force in the world. The king could send troops anywhere to topple tiny countries. He could send his planes anywhere to bomb large cities. How then could a tiny terorist force threaten him?
One of the king's many spy forces--called The Company--kept a clubhouse in the most wonderous city of Wonderland. Manhattan, this wonderous city, where towers rose to the sky, where banks measured their wealth, and where world leaders met to control the world, housed a secret spy clubhouse at WTC-Seven in the heart of Manhattan. 
But one day the few raggedy terrorists blew up that clubhouse in Manhattan. They blew up two taller towers next to the clubhouse too. They blew up a Marriot Hotel, a parking structure and the king's Customs House.  And none of the king's men knew for a second how they did it. Or so the claimed.
Then the king of Wonderland grew very mad. Not at his army, navy, air force, spy or security apparatus. No, the mad king of wonderland grew very angry at a man who lived far away, in a cave. The king grew mad at a man who formerly worked for The Company and who allegedly blew up the Company clubhouse without them knowing a single thing about it beforehand.
The mad king showed his anger by promoting all those involved---army, navy, air force, spy and security forces---promoting and praising those who failed to save his kingdom, or his loyal subjects, from attack. The king gave all the chiefs some Medals of Freedom. And he gave his black jester a promotion to State Jester.
The mad king then swore he would punish the cavedweller who masterminded the attack. The mad king of Wonderland bombed some mountains to show his anger. The king sent 50 men to find the mastermind. They shot at the mountains but stood far away, miles away from the mastermind. The mountains rumbled but when the smoke had cleared the cavedweller had fled.
No one knew where he went. And soon he was forgotten.
Next the mad king scowled at another former friend of The Company. The former friend was a tyrant and always had been but, because he lived in opulent castles instead of caves, he was a most convenient target. Mostly the tyrant angered the mad king of Wonderland because his poor country sat atop a rich pool of oil.  The loyal subjects of Wonderland loved their oil---and everybody elses oil too!
And so the mad king revealed his anger to the loyal subjects of Wonderland. "The axis of evil," he called the chosen new targets. The king decided to choose new targets not living in caves, targets nearest the Holy Land, targets suitable for target practice, targets not likely to defend themselves very well. And such was the loyalty and love of his subjects, they praised the mad king of Wonderland. The Pentagonal dukes, at least most of them, all agreed to war. That cavedweller was long since forgotten, along with that clubhouse that fell mysteriously in Manhattan.
The war came and went. "Mission Accomplished," said the king, costumed just for the purpose of mingling with the admiring sailors of Wonderland. The smiling faces of the winning team told everyone the king of Wonderland was a winner. The war on terror was nearly won.  Everyone said so, and thus it must be true.
The mad genius of the king was quite remarkable. He only toppled tiny countries, backwards countries or Islamic countries that sat atop oil. And he preached a messianic message to his loyal soldier subjects, as those subjects ground those countries down.
But then--as it always seems to happen---another pesky country vexed the king. He grew very very mad.  "I ran," said the mad king, to his loyal subjects sitting around their square telegenic boxes, "I ran so far away---But they couldn't get away."  The loyal subjects began to look mildly distressed but no one said a word. No one wanted to be a traitor. No one wanted to make the mad king madder.
Iran? The goodly people of Wonderland smiled stupidly. The Capitol princes began to cluck their tongues in agreement. Iran most go. The mighty Pentagonal dukes nodded, as they had nodded on 9-11, when they couldn't get a single plane aloft. Although some of the bemedaled dukes murmured about the mad plan to attack Iran, none spoke harshly. They didn't dare anger the mad king of Wonderland. Iran? Some Pentagonal dukes offered a little dissent---they knew Iran was a tougher target--but most dukes did not dissent. If Iran made the king of Wonderland mad, then Iran most go.
The bleats and squeaks of talking heads everywhere in Wonderland repeated the mad mantra of the king. Iran must go. Iran must go. The Pentagonal dukes and the Capitol princes chortled as the mad plan took shape again. This time against a far tougher target. And somewhere, in a comfy cave, deep in the mountains, the former Company cavedweller murmured the words, Iran. I ran. I ran.
Douglas Herman writes exclusively for the internet. His earlier Rense essay,"Day One, The War With Iran," looks at the upcoming attack in detail. He is the author of the suspense thriller, The Guns of Dallas. Email him a



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