The Tale of Ahmed al-Ulululu, the Islamist Thanksgiving Turkey

Posted by Enrique on 11.27.2008

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(Back by popular no ascertainable demand whatsoever, we present you with this gem from the Story Time with E archives. I revised it slightly, but I assure you it's still very, very silly. Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers.)

Join us this week as we recount the fable of Ahmed al-Ulululu, and his intifada against the imperialist forces of Thanksgiving dinner. This is a tale of vengeance, bravery, redemption, and silliness. Mostly silliness. Please enjoy this special holiday Story Time with E. (And we all know what "special" means…)

The story so far…

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The year is 2008, and humanity has existed for tens of thousands of years. Throughout this time, we've been gripped by endless questions of misanthropy – Are humans born innately good or evil? Are poverty and suffering the permanent conditions of mankind? Is this frail existence really God's doing? Are we just animals, beholden to our biological compulsions, or do we have free will? Do we all wake up in the middle of the night, driven to insomnia by our fears and insecurities, struggling for some sense of meaning, reaching into the black night for love and affirmation, crying out in terror at the thought of our inevitable death? More importantly, is America ready to elect a black president?

Let's forget about that, and turn to the hero of our story – Arthur the turkey.


Let's imagine this is Arthur

Arthur lives on a free range turkey farm in New Hampshire. All his life, Arthur dreamed of becoming a terrific Thanksgiving dinner. Ever since he was a chick, his mother told him, "Arthur – one day, you'll be a terrific Thanksgiving feast, just like your father before you." Legend has it that Arthur's father fed over a dozen guests at the Peterson's, and even though everyone went home with leftovers, not one bit of turkey went uneaten. As you can imagine, Arthur had a great deal of pride in his heritage, as well as a hefty legacy to live up to. Deep down, he felt ambivalent about his ability to follow in his father's footsteps (so to speak), but still he kept his chin up (so to speak) and strived to apply himself in all areas of life.

On that very same farm, there lived a turkey named Mahmoud.


Let's imagine this is Mahmoud

Arthur enjoyed Mahmoud's cheery disposition and sense of humor, and they became friends. One day, Mahmoud seemed distressed. Arthur was concerned, and asked Mahmoud what was troubling him. "I've come to a startling revelation. We've been deceived, Arthur. To become Thanksgiving dinner is nothing to aspire to. To accept such a fate is to surrender oneself to materialism and injustice. We should be better than this. We all aspire to die so that we may feed the same fat imperialists who oppress us. This is not life, Arthur. We must resist."

Mahmoud's revelation left Arthur nonplussed. All his life, Arthur had imagined Thanksgiving dinner as the pinnacle of achievement. But Mahmoud introduced Arthur to books by Michel Foucault, Noam Chomsky, and Edward Said, and Arthur began to see the world in a new light. He came to understand that he had been manipulated by a system of power relations over which he had little control. The farmer was not his mentor, but his tormenter. Mahmoud told him, "I've been talking to some of the other turkeys about resistance, and we have many allies. Arthur, you must come to the meeting we're having this afternoon."

Arthur arrived at the meeting and found that Mahmoud had quite a few followers.



They were all splendid chaps, and Arthur got along with them famously. They talked about the best way to overthrow the farmer and finally gain freedom. They also gave each other nicknames – Arthur's was "Ahmed al-Ulululu." Mahmoud was a particularly effective speaker, and rallied his fellow turkeys with his boisterous calls for revolution. "We have been silent too long. It's time that we embark on a campaign of resistance against the infidel farmer!" Mahmoud said. "We must be prepared to bear any cost. If our destiny is to die, let us not die only to be stuffed down the imperialist's gullet – let us die as martyrs in the struggle for our freedom!"



Hear, hear! clucked the throng, Mahmoud speaks the truth. "If we are agreed," Mahmoud said, "Then who will be the first to die as a martyr? Who will be the first to strike back against the forces of repression?" Arthur Ahmed stepped forward. "I shall be the first!" Ahmed knew that the only way to reverse the sordid legacy of his family was to resist the decadent forces that led his father to a compliant murder. "Ahmed al-Ulululu will bring death to the infidel!"

Mahmoud said, "Brother Ahmed, I am overjoyed. You are an example to us all. All hail Ahmed al-Ulululu!" Ulululu! the crowd chanted, Ulululu! Ulululu!


"Ulululu!"

Mahmoud procured a digital camera so that Ahmed could make a martyrdom video, as a final testament to his glorious sacrifice. Meantime, some of their brothers stole 50 kilos of fertilizer from the farmer's shed, and retrieved bomb-making instructions from the internet. Once the bomb was completed, they planned to load it into the farmer's truck, which Ahmed would drive into the house, ending the oppression of his people (so to speak) and freeing them from captivity. But alas, as they were making the final preparations for Ahmed's illustrious mission, their plan came undone.


"Now stop this silliness."

The farmer appeared! "Now stop this silliness," the farmer said. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but I must spoil your plan."

Ahmed was defiant. "How do you think you can stop us?"

The farmer replied, "First of all, you've been planning in broad daylight and I could hear everything you've been saying. Secondly, turkeys can't drive. Thirdly, the fertilizer bomb you made doesn't have enough nitromethane. You shouldn't trust everything you read on the internet."

Mahmoud was dejected.



Ahmed felt like a fool. He had great dreams of being a hero to his species – dreams that now lay in ruins. The farmer separated Mahmoud from the other turkeys, and Ahmed was sad.

Ahmed was eventually killed at the hands of his captors, as we all will be some day. Regrettably, Ahmed didn't become Thanksgiving dinner – he was a housewarming gift that ended up in the basement freezer and forgotten about. Bad luck, Ahmed.

Mahmoud's fate was considerably brighter. He petitioned Amnesty International, which recognized Mahmoud as a prisoner of conscience. Subsequently, United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki-moon sent the farmer a strongly-worded letter demanding Mahmoud's release, to which the farmer grudgingly agreed. Finally free, Mahmoud wrote a bestselling memoir, appeared on numerous talk shows, and commanded $40,000 per appearance on the university lecture circuit. Although his decision to formally accept a presidential pardon was controversial in some circles, Mahmoud didn't equivocate or apologize. In the end, he just couldn't shy away from the spotlight.