Iceland Flips Obama The Bird With New Law
Still miffed by party crashers
Just a day after America's historic decision to overturn the military's Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy, Iceland passed a similar law for all its citizens.
"From now on," declared Prime Minister Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir, "Iceland will do the exact opposite of anything the US does. And while we still embrace our country's homosexuals, our new law only allows them to use coded language or gender neutral terms when referring to their same-sex desires."
I spoke with Sigurðardóttir in the VIP Lounge at the Keflavik International Airport, and her tone was candid.
"Again," she said between robust sips of her Rusty Nail, "this has nothing to do with gay rights. We just want to be contrary. For example, if America passes a national healthcare bill, then we will react by banning all healthcare in Iceland. Private, governement-subsidized...even free clinics. Everything will be shut down out of spite."
Curious about the practical applications of DADT, I asked Sigurðardóttir if this would affect Iceland's popular gay pride parade in Reykjavik.
"Good heavens, no. Gay tourism is the only thing keeping our economy afloat. But in keeping with the new law, we can't call it a gay parade anymore."
"So what will you call it?"
"We decided on The What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up Parade. This will allow our gay men to explore their hypermasculine fantasies, you know, to be a cowboy or motorcycle cop. But the children watching will see it as a kind of career day."
"So it will be more of a family event?"
"Absolutely. But I want to stress that we will still allow men to wear brightly colored Spandex bicycle shorts. And studded codpieces paired with leather military boots. Children will think, 'Yes, when I grow up, I too can move to Las Vegas and be in the Cirque du Soleil.' It's a win-win situation. And one hundred percent in compliance with the new law."
At this point in our interview, Sigurðardóttir nodded to the bartender who refilled her glass from a pitcher of premixed Rusty Nail.
"You recently married," I said. "Tell me about your..."
"Spouse," she interrupted.
"Yes. Your spouse. You and..."
"It."
"Yes. What are you and it doing for the holidays?"
"Times are tight. Even for a Prime Minister. I think we'll be staying home. Watching movies. That sort of thing."
"Doesn't sound too exciting."
"Someone's getting the L Word box set in their Christmas stocking," she said with a sly wink. And I wondered what she meant by that. But I wasn't prepared to ask. And she wasn't allowed to tell.
"From now on," declared Prime Minister Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir, "Iceland will do the exact opposite of anything the US does. And while we still embrace our country's homosexuals, our new law only allows them to use coded language or gender neutral terms when referring to their same-sex desires."
I spoke with Sigurðardóttir in the VIP Lounge at the Keflavik International Airport, and her tone was candid.
"Again," she said between robust sips of her Rusty Nail, "this has nothing to do with gay rights. We just want to be contrary. For example, if America passes a national healthcare bill, then we will react by banning all healthcare in Iceland. Private, governement-subsidized...even free clinics. Everything will be shut down out of spite."
Curious about the practical applications of DADT, I asked Sigurðardóttir if this would affect Iceland's popular gay pride parade in Reykjavik.
"Good heavens, no. Gay tourism is the only thing keeping our economy afloat. But in keeping with the new law, we can't call it a gay parade anymore."
"So what will you call it?"
"We decided on The What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up Parade. This will allow our gay men to explore their hypermasculine fantasies, you know, to be a cowboy or motorcycle cop. But the children watching will see it as a kind of career day."
"So it will be more of a family event?"
"Absolutely. But I want to stress that we will still allow men to wear brightly colored Spandex bicycle shorts. And studded codpieces paired with leather military boots. Children will think, 'Yes, when I grow up, I too can move to Las Vegas and be in the Cirque du Soleil.' It's a win-win situation. And one hundred percent in compliance with the new law."
At this point in our interview, Sigurðardóttir nodded to the bartender who refilled her glass from a pitcher of premixed Rusty Nail.
"You recently married," I said. "Tell me about your..."
"Spouse," she interrupted.
"Yes. Your spouse. You and..."
"It."
"Yes. What are you and it doing for the holidays?"
"Times are tight. Even for a Prime Minister. I think we'll be staying home. Watching movies. That sort of thing."
"Doesn't sound too exciting."
"Someone's getting the L Word box set in their Christmas stocking," she said with a sly wink. And I wondered what she meant by that. But I wasn't prepared to ask. And she wasn't allowed to tell.