Moammar Kadafi Addressess the U.N.

United Nations, New York, Sept 23, 2009
Excerpts from the Remarks of His Excellency, President, Moammar Kadafi of the Great Socialist People's Libyan Arab Jamahiriya to the U.N. General Assembly


What's goin' on, New York? Whoooeeeeee am I bushed. I just flew in from Tripoli, and let me tell you people, that is one long schlepppppp. You see how puffy I look today? My god, you'd think I was Charles Bronson on steroids or something. What? Now, now. Simmer down, people. Bronson. Great actor. Respect. Really. HELLLLLLLLLLLO!


So, anyway, I'm a little ferklempt. No sleep, people, ok? I am not kidding you. Here's a news flash to the airline; We all know how to use a seatbelt, ok? I mean, c'mon. Is there really any one left who doesn't know about slipping the metal part securely into the opening until it clicks and tightening it securely around our waists? Maybe one guy in Bhutan didn't get the memo, but he's the only one, ok?--Jeeeez! And what's with the peanuts they throw at you, already? This they call a nosh? What? No roast lamb on a skewer in the galley from our friends at the Lufthansa Kitchen? Pleeeeaaazzzzzzze! Ha, Ha. I'm kidding. I love our National Airline. Why shouldn't I, I own it. Hey, you folks look great from here, let me tell you.

Well, you know me. I go wherever the winds should blow, and that's where I pitch my tent -- New Jersey, White Plains -- whatever. But, it's great to be back in New York, I mean...no, no, please. You people are too kind, really. Hey IS NEW YORK THE GREATEST TOWN, OR WHAT? AM I RIGHT? I SAID, AM I RIGHT? Hooooooo. Hoooooooo. Hoooooo. I am pumped! I am pumped I, tell you!

But seriously, folks, In the Name of the God of Mercy, Compassion, Peace, Freedom, Justice, and stuff like that, Mr. President, Mrs. President, Miss President, Ms. President (does that cover all the ladies? Don't want to offend anyone), Excellencies, Ladies and Gentlemen, and also a big shout out to Pat Buchanan, Louis Farrakhan, and Hugo (the "Man") Chavez:

Today we have gathered here to exchange views about the world, its future, but mostly, its past -- particularly the years 1939 to 1945 -- my faves! And I say to you in the name of the prophets--Faith. Faith will prove to be the solution to many of today's problems. Faith. Not Faith Hill (tho, not bad on the eyes if I'm being honest), just plain, old faith. This is, ultimately, how the Boston Red Sox came to win the World Series. Faith. That's it. Faith is all you got to hold on to in this crazy, mixed up world. And now I am speaking directly to you, Chicago, particularly the north side -- yeah, Cubbies territory. Keep the faith, baby. Keep the faith. And one day, one day...Yeah. You could win it all. Dig? Right on!

Show of hands -- whose from the City of the Big Shoulders?...Oh, look at that! Lotta Windy City types here, today. Yesssireee Bob. Hey, you know who else is from Chi-town? My son, Barack, that's who. We call him Baracka-a-bye baby in Libya. No, wait! It's a term of endearment, I swear! Yeah, he was just here at this very podium, right? Spoke right before me. I gave him a little fist pump in the hall (I saw the Dalai Lama do it earlier on C-span and I kind of stole that move, but ok, whatever). Anyway, my path kinda crossed Barack's in the hall, and I called out: "Hey Barack, my boy, my son, my fellow African, yo! What it is! Keep on keepin' on!"

He was about 300 yards away, so I can't really say for sure that he heard me, but that short little douche bag, Rahm Emanuel, came running up and tried to kick me in the nuts as a joke, and I said, Hey Rahm! You gotta stand on a ladder to reach MY nuts, you know what I'm sayin, short stuff? But, hey It's all good. Rahm and I go way back. All night bull sessions in Hyde Park after sneaking off of the U of C campus to score a joint ---ooooooooooooooooooooops. Sorry Rahm. Only a few billion people watching the U.N. General Assembly on live TV today, so your secret's still safe with about the 3 billion other people who aren't watching! Yeah! Ha, ha. Rahm, you crack me up.

Hey does anyone here have a copy of the U.N. charter? You do? Hey thanks. Ok. Watch closely. Here's a little trick I picked up in the Western Sahara-- or was it Darfur? Oh well. Not important. Hey! See that? See that? I ripped it! I ripped the U.N. Charter, man! Now, watch. I just toss the pieces on the floor and some lackey will come along later and sweep it up. See that? See that? Pretty cool, huh? Now kids, don't try this at home. I am a pro-fess-ion-al. Oh god, I crack myself up. Oh thank you; thank you. You people are too kind, really.

Well, what I came here to talk about was how Jack Ruby (ne Rubenstein) shot Lee Harvey...why are you laughing? You didn't know he changed his name from Rubenstein? You didn't know that? Yeah. Dig it. Jack Ruby was a Member of the Tribe and I'm not talking about the Cleveland Indians, if you get my drift. Grew up eating cholent and kasha varnishkes, and gefilte fish -- the whole 18 yards. You didn't know that? Well don't you think it's just a little, little strange that Jack Ruby had the same given name as Arthur Rubinstein the pianist, not to mention Helena Rubenstein the cosmetics industrialist? (Did you pick up on that? In-dustri-a-list...No? Nothing? Ok, people, I know I'm speaking in code, but do I have to spell it out for you? C'mon. Don't you think it's just a little, little bit of a coincidence that Ruby changes his name and then goes and shoots Lee Harvey? Maybe Benjamin Netanyahu doesn't want you to hear about this, but what do you expect? Who do you think invented the tuck rule in the NFL? The Jordanians? You know what we call Netanyahu in Libya? Nutt'n-Honey. Cute, huh?

And speaking of nuts, I hear Mahmoud Ahmadinejad from Iran will be speaking later. I caught his show last year and let me, tell you it is wild. He is one wild dude. Crazy, man.

Do you like my cloak? I sewed it myself. Yeah I was talking shop with Hamid Karzai from Afghanistan just before I came here, and he told me to ditch the Generalissimo look with the epaulets and the military cap, and everything. No really. He's a cool dude. very stylish. Doesn't have my boyish curls, but then, who does?

Here's a little song I wrote. Gonna chant it, note for note: "O mighty Lord, I pray to you to hasten the emergence of your last repository, the promised one, that perfect and pure human being, the one that will fill this world with justice and peace. And while you're at it, please send me someone to love."

Ok, that last line I kinda lifted from Sade.

By the way, capitalism sucks.

Hey, who do you have to schtup to get a an ice cube around here? What is this, France? Ha, ha. Just kidding, Nick. That's my man, Nick Sarkozy in the 4th row down there, everybody. Stand up and take a bow, Nick. Oh, you are standing up. Sorry. Try the Gravity Defier shoes, Nick. They promise to add 2 inches to your height. Very comfy, too.

What's that? No ice? How about a little seltzer? No? Soda water? No? I'm on my 4th glass of water and that's all you got? Whose got the drink concession in this place? the Zionist entity? Could you turn those lights down a little, at least? It's hotter up here then a Tripoli greenhouse, of which, by the way, there aren't any. God awwmighty, global warming is a bitch!

Hey here's an idea. Let's move the Security Council to Mogadishu. Yeah. And let's get to the bottom of this Jack Rubenstein/Ruby Lee Harvey business once and for all. I didn't know if you noticed but jet lag is a bear. Man! Man! It's like the middle of the night back home and my body clock is so out of whack I barely know what I'm sayin'. Oh to hell with these notes. I'm just going to throw them on the floor. Chill. Chill! The lackey will be along in a minute to sweep up.

Oh, nice. The music is starting. Looks like I'm about to get the ol' heave-ho. Well, you people have been great, really.

I want to give you all a big Libyan kiss. It sounds a little like a Bronx cheer. Ok, who'm I kiddin? It pretty much is a Bronx cheer. Ppppppppppppppppppppbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

You're beautiful. I'm here all week.

Peace.