And, desperate to save my big fat back-bacon, I tell them that I'm (a) a political radical and (b) half-Saudi, and that they should let me live, because, well, I'm not really on their side per se, but, hey! Sala'am aleichem! Come on, already.
So, perhaps because they're a bunch of dupes, they let me live, and take me hostage. And we're all sitting around the bunker, you know, eating shawarma, talking a little soccer, getting a little Stockholm syndrome thing going. And, eager to make common cause, they teach me some Arabic, we discuss the Ismaili rift, talk about how much we hate Israel, that kind of shit. And after a while, we're getting along like a house on fire.
Then they ask me to teach them something about MY culture.
No, I don't know the Britney-Spears. No, sorry, I didn't see 'Titanic'. Uh, you know, I just never got around to it. 'Entertainment Weekly', huh? You know, it's funny, I never read that. Um, no, actually, I. Um. I don't think 'Everybody Loves Raymond' is. You know. All that. Er. Funny.
Um...Jandek? Do you like Jandek? No? How about Stan Brakhage? Everybody likes Stan Brakhage. Never heard of him, eh? How about 'Transmetropolitan'? You guys read that? No? Uh...I like Japanese noise-rock...and, uh, do you read B.S. Johnson? Hmmm.
That's when they start oiling their sidearms.