She Says

01 October 2007 - Asian Woman  www.asianwomanmag.com

"Make love not war" said John and Yoko from their cosy hotel bed. Of course the real tragedy occurs when youʼre not doing either, and your life is just a miserable bore.

What if there were to be war while making love? Then I suppose that would amount to a great night out, the earth would move literally. I wish there was more love during war, then maybe war in itself could become whimsical. What fun that would be. Instead of firing bullets at the Americans (because letʼs face it, no war is complete without a healthy dose of America), we could fire kisses. That way people could still get hurt but there would be love too. The problem is peace. Wherever there is peace, someone feels the need to say, “Forget this, itʼs been too quiet for too long, not enough people have died and not enough women have lost their shoes, letʼs start a war”. Itʼs mainly men that say this, because a woman would never ruin another womanʼs shoes.

War doesnʼt save you or liberate you – have you ever heard such a contradiction? “We bombed Iraq to liberate its people”. And now they have a Burger King, and an Ann Summers – Iʼm sure thatʼs what the Iraqis always wanted; to eat a Big Mac while wearing a kinky thong. Who knew such catastrophe was the price for the small pleasures in life? Iʼm sure the people of Iraq will be forever grateful.

Personally I wouldnʼt like to go to war because Iʼd break my nail extensions. They take ages to put on and thereʼs nothing worse than running round with half broken nails and chipped nail varnish – that wonʼt get you a husband! That is the hideous reality of violence; things get broken and girls get upset. War could be beautiful if only there were more gay men involved. Well-groomed men with nice fingernails and a beautifully coiffured chest is what every war needs, but even then they wonʼt be able to shield you from that fateful mess which will inevitably follow.

Religious people may say war is justified, but I can only feel the agony of the silence of God. Only a few questions need answering like, “Why do wars have to go on so long?” Canʼt they just happen every five years on a Tuesday afternoon from 5 till 6pm before Neighbours? That way itʼs all done and dusted and a winner can be elected immediately instead of it dragging on and on, and wars are never really about oil, theyʼre about hair oil. Thatʼs what George W. Bush really wanted. Had he been better informed he could have sent his people down to Sallyʼs and got a AW barrel of Amla hair oil for £29.99 and no one would have died in the process.

All in all itʼs discussions and philosophic and religious obsessions, there is nothing entertaining about war – not unless wars were dictated by women. I think things would be a whole lot worse. There would be severe backstabbing, two-faced catty behaviour of the highest order, and some woman somewhere would be suffering a weight problem. “What do you mean I canʼt get combat trousers in a size 8?” What do you mean I canʼt take my Manolos with me? Can anyone do my roots? There wouldnʼt be time to shoot someone; weʼd have enough of our own problems. In the end Iʼm sure weʼd all just be sharing the latest Chanel nail varnish with the American women, weʼd end up chatting and discussing Heat magazine. Weʼd end up making love, and not war.

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