The Blanket

The Blanket - A Journal of Protest & Dissent

Gali Beaarda and the 40 Thieves

The following is loosely based on a fable. Resemblance to any person or camel living or dead is purely coincidental. No offence is intended and I trust the reader will read the piece in the manner it is intended. A bit of craic. - Harri Kaharazad


Harri Kaharazad

For many years and many years before that the country of Iraand had been subject to the maurading band of foreigners who plundered the coasts of those weaker than themselves. They would stampede over the native people, raping and pillaging all before them. The people lived in destitution and fear.

Gali Beaarda, known to his family and close friends as "The Big Lad-en", had grown up in Belfad and had dreamed one day of setting his people free and of tumblong down the big white house of the Sultana, a dark and shrunken tyrant. The Sultana was loyal to one even more powerful than himself, one who had violated many countries, the Great Impeeraa.

Gali was too poor to learn at the feet of the wise men and as a dutiful son he soon found employment at one of the many houses of refreshment at the bazaar in downtown Belfad.

With the passage of time, and between pulling caraffs, he soon gathered around him a group of others, who, like himself, had grown disgruntled and angry to see their people live in slavery with all the best women being taken to the harems of the invaders.

"Gali, we must fuck these bastards out," cried Galiella one day as he watched another poor woman, a close friend of his, being dragged off to be stoned to death for her infidelity. Galiella had been a hot blooded youth but was growing cute and learning which side his naan was buttered on.

"If you do not learn to keep your one eyed snake in its basket, Galiella, then this custom will never cease in our land!" Gali Beaarda spoke sharply because he was wise and cunning and heard tales from many tongues.

Galiella was bewildered. Never before had Gali Beaarda spoken to him with such anger. What could the Big Lad-en mean, Galiella did not even own a snake!

"Leader, leader, they are searching the Kashma and taking many men away!" Bibiskeaali fell at the feet of Gali Beaarda.

"Who dares use the accursed and offensive 'L' word in my presence!" roared Gali the Great.

"Shit, Gali, a hundred thousand pardons, I beg forgiveness for my foolish ramblings, I have spent too long on the Archilogical work, dust has inflitrated my brain, I will cut out my own tongue if ever the accursed and untrue word crosses my lips again," Bibi lifted the foot of the Big Lad-en and placed it on his head in supplication.

"We will forgive this time," Beaarda was feeling benevolent. He smiled his frozen smile and his white teeth, purchased in a far off land, glinted in the sunlight.

Bibi wished one day to own such teeth, for his own had become black and worn by the need to constantly carry his knife between them. One day he hoped too that he might be able to carry a steak knife, for those with such a weapon seemed to prosper.

Bibi spoke from the floor where The Big Lad-en's foot remained on his head.

"A hundred thousand humble pardons for speaking, Gali Beaarda, but perhaps in your bountiful mercy you will permit me to rise to my knees, the camel dung plays havoc with my allergies."

Gali glanced towards the forgotten one.

"Ah, yes, Bibi, I am much relieved that it is only you causing the apparent foreshortening of my right leg, there is an ancient curse on my family saying that one day there will be a reckoning and we shall be cut down to size. I feared the dreadful curse was to begin. Rise up, rise up, lick that piece of lizard dung from my foot on your way up," Gali Beaarda was all merciful.

"Oh generous and all thoughtful one.....if need be I would cut my own granny's throat at your command," Bibi had never really learnt when to keep it shut.

"Command, command!! I do not command! I advise, suggest, counsel. With the granny it may become necessary. I hear she speaks sedition against me at the bazaar. I do not own many houses as she claims. I own sufficient unto my this not the socialism we speak of?"

Bibi wished to placate the Big Lad-en. "She is old and has grown weary, she has lost sight of the great revolt we plot," he answered.

"Haven't we all," whispered one of the forty. No one sniggered, no one dared.

"Call the people together. I would speak with them." Beaarda spoke, thoughts flickering behind his magnified eyes.

"Which people, Gali?" asked Galiella.

"The ones who always say 'yes, you illiterate son of a dung shoveller'!" Gali Beaarda left, picking up his crombi blanket on the way out. "I go to my trees, see that I am not disturbed."

"Does Gali Beaarda not have a harem?" asked one of the Gali Gardi.

"I have seen beneath the burkas in his harem. Babzilla is such a one the burka was invented for, and the little short red one who bobs like a cork on the seas - many a man's sight has been saved by the yashmakk, even the new edition to the harem already begins to run to fat. Let him stick with his trees!"

The moon was full and reflected down upon the figure of Gali Beaarda, arms spread tightly about the tree to which his camel was tethered.

"Fuck off animal and fart elsewhere!" he yelled as the trumpet of expelled wind played music on the air. Gali needed comfort and to think.....






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The Blanket - A Journal of Protest & Dissent



All censorships exist to prevent any one from challenging current conceptions and existing institutions. All progress is initiated by challenging current conceptions, and executed by supplanting existing institutions. Consequently the first condition of progress is the removal of censorships.
- George Bernard Shaw

Index: Current Articles

27 August 2004

Other Articles From This Issue:

"Every Editor's Nightmare"
Carrie Twomey

Topsy Turvy World
Eamon McCann

A Quarter of a Century Ago
Anthony McIntyre

Gali Beaarda and the 40 Thieves
Harri Kaharazad

Nuclear Solutions Lost in Ambiguity
Mary La Rosa

24 August 2004

Loughall - A Truth to Remain Untold
Anthony McIntyre

Ancient Order of Hibernians in America
Ned McGinley

The Harp New-strung: Music in Ireland
Seaghán Ó Murchú

Understanding the raison d'être for the armed struggle
Mick Hall

More on Captain Kelly Campaign
Report sent in By Fionnbarra Ó Dochartaigh

The North's Future Depends on Tony Blair's Bravery
Paul A. Fitzsimmons

Standing With RSF
Sean O Lubaigh

Genetic Contamination of Mexican Maize
Toni Solo

The Letters page has been updated.



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