"Please sit down and be at ease, Mr -?" the man behind the desk said pleasantly.

"McDonald. R. H. McDonald" the interviewee answered with proper vigor.

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"Not from the McDonald's? 'Course not! Otherwise why would you be here looking for work with us! I'm Fred. Now R.H. you're American, right? So tell me about your occupation?" Fred asked pleasantly.



"Excuse me? I'm here for a position as a spokesman for the state department," McDonald was puzzled.

"I know that! But where are you from in America?" Fred said, grinning broadly.

"The US", R.H. was still bewildered.

"It's a big country – where exactly from?"

"From Minnesota, I was born in –" starting to loosen up, but Fred cut in.

"So your occupation is Santee"

"Huh??"

"Where you were born – that's where the Santee lived, one of the ten tribes of the Sioux. It's funny, the Jews have twelve tribes the Sioux have ten, ha! Anyway – so you're from Minnesota, what did you occupy next?"

"Huh?"

"Where did you live next?" Fred explained patiently.

"Oh, well I worked in South Dakota –"

"Ah the spiritual heart of the Lakota, holy ground, left to the Lakota by the 1868 treaty of Laramie forever, taken back forcibly by the whites when gold was discovered. You are familiar with the expression 'pale-face giver' when you give something then take it back. Definitely occupied! Where next?"

R.H. was even more bewildered. "Next? Uh, I worked in Colorado –"

"Occupied Cheyenne country, the beautiful people! You've heard of the Sand Creek Massacre, I assume. So you occupy Sioux and Cheyenne land. Good! Go on" Fred boomed.

"Well, I moved to Boston. Boston ok, I mean, no Indians there, right" R.H. smiled shyly seeking approval.

"Ha! R.H. – you're one funny man! You think Massachusetts is some word from Shakespeare? It's the name of a native tribe my friend, not a shire in England! Occupied land, just a bit longer than Colorado. Tell me, R.H. – have you ever been to Disney World or Disneyland?"

"Uh, ya, Disney land"

"Both occupied! We got Florida from the Spanish but really we took it from the Seminole, only Indians we never really defeated. Then there's California that we took forcibly from the Mexicans."

"Excuse me Mr. ah – "

"Fred, call me Fred"

"Fred. I'm confused. What's the point of these questions, and even more: what's your point about occupied land?"

"Well the thing is like this, R. H. – you're interviewing for a position as a state department spokesperson, right?"

"Yeah"

"And one of your jobs will be to censure Israel for building settlements, even if it is in their ancient homeland, right? You'll have to express dismay at Israeli occupation bla bla bla - of what is essentially their land, correct?"

"Yeah"

"Well by pointing out that you live in occupied land, Hawaii or Puerto Rico, all the lands that were once Mexican or Native American, I'm trying to make you immune to the absurdity of our pre-occupation and over-occupation with what really isn't an occupation! That way you'll be able to censure Israel without guilty feelings… and without breaking out in laughter at our chutzpah!" Fred said with triumph.

"Wait" R.H. asked, still confused, "What do you think?"

"Me? I only see occupied when that little sign on an airplane lights up! Well, son, you got the job!"

"Wow! Thanks!"

"Oh, by the way, I know the R. stands for Ronald. I know your mother liked Ronald McDonald, the clown. That's the best reason you're fit for the job of Foggy Bottom spokesperson!"

 

P.S. You can't be an occupier in your own homeland. You can't be an illegal occupier in land you took in a defensive war, in land that was meant by the terms of the mandate to be your homeland. So Mr. Obama: we're happy for American support, but you run Florida, TexasCalifornia and all of your great country - and we'll run our tiny but incredible country. 

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