From: Osama bin Laden [email@example.com]
Sent: Monday, October 07, 2002 9:14 AM +0900
To: Jerry Falwell [firstname.lastname@example.org]
I just tried you on IM and you weren't online, but we need to talk, because you're not focusing again. I need for you to tell me that this focus thing is not going to hamper us anymore. If there's some way that I can help, you need to let me know that. If it's the cocaine or other shit again, you need to tell me that, because I can help. Whatever it is, I need to know. Because this is bullshit, Jerry. Pure bullshit. And we do not have time for bullshit right now. Everyone else seems to understand that there isn't really any extra room for bullshit at the moment.
So as far as I can tell, you told the "60 Minutes" guy that you thought "Mohammed was a terrorist." That's what you said, Jerry, and that's all you said. I didn't see it because the generator broke again, but I read the coverage. Most of it was like this:
It's very important that you shut up and listen to me now, bitch: "I think Mohammed was a terrorist" is the girlie version of what you were supposed to say. And don't even think about bullshitting me here, man, because I can FEEL you trying to figure out some way to blow smoke up my ass on this. Forget it. What you were supposed to say, what we planned -- and you know it -- was:
"Bob, I think that the 'prophet' [air quotes, remember?] Mohammed was a goat-fucking terrorist bastard; the world would be better off without the progeny of that towelhead."Am I missing something? Please tell me I'm missing something. Where was "towelhead"? And I spe-ci-fi-cal-ly remember confirming the goat thing with you, like, two nights ago on IM. Jerry, we must hit our marks, all of us; when one of us doesn't, even in a small way, there are exponential repercussions for everyone. And I haven't spent a couple of decades living in a fucking cave freezing my balls off just to have some multi-chinned, freak-of-nature Jesus salesman fuck my shit up like this. Really, man: fuck that. That's why I'm asking you to cut the crap, and I'm asking you to do it now. We need a world war, and we need it soon. And it's not going to just, you know, COME. We need to make it happen, and to do that we need to FOCUS. It's really disturbing to me that I'm having to explain this simple shit to you again. There will be -- there have been -- things that don't happen exactly the way we want them to happen. But simple shit like this -- like remembering your FUCKING LINES, for Christ's sake -- well, there's no excuse. That's all I'm saying.
The four planes were "just chapter one." Remember that? YOU said that. But I've got news for your white, flatulent ass: not if you don't get your shit together. We'll get nowhere, REALLY FAST, if we don't follow the plan to the letter. I'm serious, man: this CANNOT happen again. I don't have time for this crap. Neither does Saddam; neither do the Amsterdam guys or the Oakland guys. Nobody does. We are so close; we are THIS close. You can't see me, but I 'm holding my thumb and my index finger together so they're almost touching but not quite.
Finally, Jerry, about the blow. You know you need to stop; I know you need to stop; Buchanan told me that you were trying to stop. Now, however, is not the time to stop. I know Wired Jerry, and Wired Jerry would not have dropped the ball last night like you did. Just keep it under control, which I know you can do for these important few months. An added bonus would be that you might lose some weight. I want to help you rid yourself of your dependence on narcotics -- I really do, Jerry; you know I do -- but we've got more important things to worry about right now. So if you flushed your stash or whatever, let me know and I'll work it out.
We need to get you out there again now. Soon. And this time you need to say what you're fucking well supposed to say, not some watered-down sissy-boy version. Because as we discussed at LAX last month, time is not on our side. And in this short amount of time that we have, we need to light a bonfire, Jerry, not a tea candle. Look, I'm sorry for the long-winded rant. All I really mean to say is that if there's any more of this type of shit, I will personally fuck you up really, really badly. Okay? We can talk more on IM; I'll be on later.
P.S. Perhaps you shouldn't come to the Yemen thing in November. It's up to you, but if you think I'm pissed off, you haven't seen S.H. He said he wanted to "remove your lungs," so -- you know, whatever. I wouldn't put it past him. He already thinks he's going to get fucked in this deal, and when shit like this goes unexpectedly, he freaks out because he was hoping for relief, and got some, but not enough; if time isn't on our side, it's really not on his. It's all cool, but let's let tempers come down a notch for a while.
Btw, I got an iPod! -- O.