"Iherebycallthiscourttoorderhowdoyouplead... Idonotrecognizethiscourt...
Thereforeyoupleadnotguiltydoyouhaveanythingtodeclare...
Thistrialisjustification... Youhavenothingtodeclaresolongseeyouinaugust!
Beep-beep!
Screeeeech! (sound of the judge leaving the courtroom)..."
And there you are, it's over. He's there, we're here. He can't come back and we can''t go get him. We don't have a visa and they probably wouldn't give us one if we wrote in the "Purpose of your trip to Holland" box on the application "To bring back Slobo!" And what do I care. That will be more of a problem for "individual citizens" who I have heard have been struck with the relatively nebulous idea of going to The Hague and kidnapping him. I already see them standing in line in front of the Dutch embassy with stockings on their heads, clutching their machine guns and waiting to get their single-entry Schengen visas. And I imagine them arguing with the policeman on duty because someone got in ahead of them when it wasn't his turn. The policeman doesn't understand what they're saying because, in their great haste to save the Leader, they've forgotten to cut holes for their mouths. Only The Hague knows how they breathe.
And so... An interesting scene, the Hague tribunal, one must admit. It's just that the courtroom is a little bare. A couch is missing. So that the Former President can lean over and prop himself up on his elbow as only He knows how to do. And so he can start inviting to the courtroom all those guys who have sat with him on soft cushions with glasses of Chivas for years an discussed High Politics with the Factor of Stability. Sit them down on the couch so they're nice and comfy and then slowly, sincerely, they'll open their hearts to us and we'll be able to determine who helped whom and how. The couch can't testify since this trial isn't rigged [namesteno] but apparently neither is it furnished [namestajno, a pun].
Unfortunately, nothing will come of these confessions on the couch because he Only Recognizes His Party's Court. How then exactly have we gotten into the moronic situation in which the silence of the accused in fact only proves the innocence of the prosecutor and judge? Which is to say that the Former President in the past two decades in a row has not changed the side that he is helping by his actions. And that side certainly is not the small group of naive people who were going through tissues like crazy in front of the television cameras on Tuesday. Nope, not them for sure.
And while we're on the subject of a Party Court. That sentence was uttered by Tito long ago. Shortly after uttering that sentence, Tito went to war and put together Yugoslavia, which was falling apart. Then he became the head of Yugoslavia. Then he told the foreign powers "NO" decisively.
Milosevic also said "NO" decisively. Then he became the head of Yugoslavia. Then it fell apart and then he lost the war. And in the end we arrive at the same sentence Tito uttered when he was just starting out.
So Sloba is actually Tito played backwards?
And that is our problem.
Slobo's legacy: The situation is somewhat morbid so I have all these similarly morbid situations running through my head. In one vision, I see Kostunica, Djindjic, Seselj and Bane Ivkovic sitting at a table in black mourning clothes. They're waiting for the attorney to show up with the Last Will and Testament of the Politically Deceased; this document describes how the Politically Deceased intended to divide his loyal Voters among his Political Heirs. The attorney is late and a spontaneous conversation begins.
"I think I should get the Voters. I have a sense for Justice," says the Grieving Kostunica. "After all, I'm not the one who kidnapped the Deceased at night and buried him politically!"
"I didn't bury him; he buried himself. And his Voters belong to ME because I am the one who provided Them with money to live!" snapped the Sad Djindjic. "If we had waited for your justice to come along, we all would have starved to death!"
"We are going to die anyway without Him who has so wisely led us all these years. But he's not politically dead! I am in constant touch with him and he lives on as a part of me! He that is, I should get his Voters!" screeches the Distraught Ivkovic in a spiritual trance.
"He gave me his Voters while he was politically alive and I see no reason for this practice not to continue. I'm not the wust to get the least. You are the wust!" Crazed with pain, Seselj uses a rusty spoon to point to the first two collocutors from the ranks of the Grieving Family.
At this point, the attorney should make an appearance and read what the will says. But it wouldn't be fair for me to tell You. I would ruin the surprise when You do find out in the near future.
If one can even call it a surprise.
Fag fanfare: There was also a Gay Parade organized in the naive belief that October 5 also brought about nonpolitical changes. Consequently, I can't decide whether to write that some fags beat up some fools or that some fools beat up some fags. Until my final decision, I'll share with You the best comment on the events of day directed at the police:
"It doesn't make any sense! They protected the other fags for 12 years and they can't protect these fags for even one hour!"