“Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one.”
‘Muammar Gaddafi’s planned resignation speech,’ as seen by Tariq Ali.
“It’s raining outside which is why I cannot address you. Sorry. It seems to be raining inside my tent as well. Can this be rain? No. It’s dogs polluting the uniforms of my bodyguards. No respect for women. Benghazi. I hate that city. Once I accidentally addressed my friend Berlusconi as Benghazi. Drunkards, pimps and religious extremists. I will bomb them again before I leave. I wish we had bought some drones so I could press button myself. My relations with the people are informal, based on friendship and fear. Why have they become so noisy and combative? I have many children. The British Foreign Office adopted one of them, my dear Saif, and wanted to put him on the throne, but that would have no effect on the intellectual landscape of the Jamahiriya.
I just received a tweet from Venezuela: ‘Have you read The Autumn of the Patriarch by G.G. Marquez?’ Why should I read this shit? Has G.G. Marquez read my science-fiction short stories ‘Escape from Hell’ that are even better than my little Green Book which is very nutty? They are set in an imaginary country with an imaginary ruler who kills his people and they rise and get rid of him. It’s very funny story. It is popular in Arab lands. I met them, these jokers and stray dogs of Europe. Blair, Berlusconi, they are my friends, but now they ask me to go. Why? Did they not go? It’s always raining in London. And that Roman pimp is always raining on his people. I will go when my time comes. When Allah summons me to discuss the political conjuncture. I like pizzas. Once there was a good pizza place in Tripoli. Much better pizzas than in Benghazi, but now all these shops are burning. Is it still raining? No? OK. Then I will go. Bury me in a colored shroud, not white. Bill Clinton. His penis should have been chopped off and fed to swine for letting Monica play with him when he was talking to heads of state. Men will be men, but that still upsets me. I never did that. Nor did Blair or Berlusconi.
I ruled this place for 42 years. And now it’s raining. I’m sorry not to rule for 50 years. Mubarak was a stray dog, Ben Ali a pimp. Why they compare those rascals to me. I struggled against my own military dictatorship. I am not a rootless pot of excrement. What do you think? I will ask the people, but I need an umbrella. Who is raining? Am I raining on my own people? Just one last point, I need to address to my people. Remember this: States are counter-Being. Similarly, being is counter-state. Being is the activity of being alive, free, agile and uncontained. Being, when pursued rigorously, state(s) would wither away like Clinton’s penis. States exist by ‘neutralising’ being. “State of being” is a moronic condition. However, ’normally’ we exist in the moronic conditions. I am proud to be the Chief Moron in a moronic state. I will neutralise you all.”