Seasons greeting from your old friend Santa! My, my, Christmas is just two short weeks away, and everyone here at the North Pole can't wait to deliver presents to all you nice boys and girls this year. Yes, Jolly ol' St. Nicholas hopes you're all being as good as can be!
But today, Santa would like to tell you all about something very naughty, something very, very naughty indeed. Dear children, have you not heard? Why, 9/11 was an inside job! Oh, ho, ho, my, yes it was!
I mean, look at the facts, boys and girls! We already know the Bush administration was itching to go to war in Iraq, now, don't we? Yes, indeed we do, my darling ones! The Downing Street memo proves that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Then you look at the Presidential Daily Briefing of Aug. 6, 2001, the one headlined "Bin Laden Determined to Strike in U.S." Ignored! Why, children, they threw that briefing aside like used wrapping paper on Christmas morning, didn't they?
And remember, sweet little ones, Bin Laden never claimed responsibility for the attacks until 2004. Do you know how many years that is, boys and girls? Something was up the government's sleeve, and I'll let you in on a little secret: It wasn't sugar plums, oh, no! No, it was the ties between the bin Laden and Bush families. They've been under the mistletoe for decades, if you catch your old pal Kris Kringle's meaning! I've checked my list twice, and it seems Arbusto Energy, a Bush business, had financial connections to Salem bin Laden, half-brother of Osama. The CIA actually helped create and fund al-Qaeda right around the time Bush Senior was the agency’s director—ho, ho, ho, ol' H.W. stuffed their pockets as fat as a Christmas goose!
Now, as for the towers themselves: The type of steel they used melts at a temperature of about 2,700 degrees Fahrenheit, and as I'm sure all you smart little boys and girls know, jet fuel burns at 1,500 degrees, tops. My darlings, you'd need quite a Yule log to create that extra 1,200 degrees, wouldn't you? Oh, what a glorious sight it would be!
Of course, you do know what they found in the Ground Zero debris, don't you? Would you like St. Nicholas to tell you? Well, then, hop up on his lap and I'll whisper it in your ear: traces of nano-thermite. Does that jingle any bells upstairs? Nano-thermite is an explosive compound, children, capable of making the biggest Christmas cracker you ever saw! So what in the name of Donner and Blitzen was it doing in the world's largest banking complex? Was Lehman Brothers or one of the insurance companies stockpiling explosives? No, children. You find nano-thermite where there's been a controlled demolition. Ever see a controlled demolition, little ones? That's where the whole building plummets straight downward like a plumb bob and every floor is destroyed. Even if the building is struck in the middle.
Oh, dear, perhaps ol' Santa has just gone a little nutty in the head, like dear Mrs. Claus repeatedly likes to claim! Perhaps, much like Mrs. Claus, Santa would be better off pretending the facts don't exist. But you believe, don't you, children? You believe in Santa's theory.
Now, I'm not saying the hijackers weren't naughty. They were very, very naughty indeed. But if you want to really talk naughty, there's not enough coal in Santa's sack for a government that throws its own citizens under the sleigh just to gain political power.
Ho, ho, ho, so many questions dance through Santa's head! What about the six eyewitnesses who saw a low-flying jet immediately after Flight 93 crashed in Shanksville, children? Why was debris from the flight found miles away from the crash site? And why did the BBC incorrectly report that 7 World Trade Center had collapsed moments before it actually did? Talk about a snow job, eh, young ones? Why, it's a veritable winter wonderland!
Perhaps this Christmas, Santa will bring some of you very well-behaved—and discreet—young children some nice, shiny new computers to play with, so you can go to 911truth.org, watch Loose Change on YouTube, and see for yourselves. Because if you ask Santa, the truth needs to come out in order to properly honor the memory of the victims and awaken a duped populace, slumbering away in their cozy beds, living in dreamland. We can close our eyes and drink the government eggnog, or we can raise our voices and demand to know what really happened. Isn't that right, boys and girls?
Well, I've still got a lot of toys to build before Christmas Eve, my little ones, but I'll be visiting you all very soon—ho, ho, ho, that is if I'm not jailed as an enemy combatant for asking simple questions!
Because that's what they fucking do, you know.