mbarrassed fashion mogul Calvin Klein denied any knowledge of his company's controversial "Saddam's Undies" ad campaign this week, a sweeping series of magazine and billboard ads featuring the deposed Iraqi dictator in his underwear, which Klein claims must have been a hoax masterminded by one of his competitors.

"Calvin Klein is the epitome of cool worldwide," explained the blushing New Yorker. "What has Saddam Hussein got to do with that? Nothing. Don't answer, I will tell you it's nothing. So why would we use him as the centerpiece for our new ad campaign? We wouldn't, don't ask me stupid questions. Goodbye."

Industry observers, however, claim that the new ads prove Klein badly miscalculated in his constant striving to find hot new looks.

"Who's to say what is hot?" queried fashion writer Agnes Blout. "Fashion thrives on the offbeat, the strikingly incongruous. Whether that's toned rednecks in their tidy whities or some underfed starvation model with no tits, cool is often what you make of it. Unless it's a deposed Iraqi dictator making like Mister Rogers after a hard day doing whatever the hell it is Mister Rogers does at work. That's taking fashion relativism a bit far."

Some consider Klein's reaction to be understandable, since the ads have been an unmitigated disaster for the fashion mogul's company. Sales of white underwear plummeted within minutes of the ads hitting the street, and last week a church in South Carolina organized a burning of magazines containing the offensive ads. The magazine-burning turned tragic, however, when fumes given off by all the free perfume samples in the magazines formed a toxic cloud that ate the paint off the church and made several cows very queasy.

No one has gone on record to say how much Hussein was paid for the use of his likeness, though the answer is likely in the millions. Either that or a juicy ham sandwich delivered to his prison cell, it's not like Hussein is at the height of his bargaining power at the moment.

"We felt like this was a fresh new direction for Saddam to go in," explained Hussein's publicist, Liz Turnbow. "No more of this 'dirty old man pulled from a hole in the ground' thing, that was so last year. It's a whole new era for disgraced former dictators and Saddam Hussein is leading the way, with considerable style I must say."

Industry observers are already ranking the Hussein ad campaign with the great fashion miscalculations of all time, like hula-hoop underwear and the infamous salmon necktie of the mid-80's. Others point to the original cast-iron underwear of the early 1700's, which failed due to poor marketing. Klein has missed the mark more than a few times himself, including a career-jeopardizing ad campaign featuring Marlon Brando in his underwear in 1979 and the truly-regrettable "California Raisins in their underwear" campaign of 1987.

uslims in Afghanistan have become uncharacteristically unhappy with America following reports that the Koran has been insulted and abused in Guantanamo Bay's Camp X-Ray, prompting some Muslims extremists to even threaten a "holy war" with the United States. President Bush, noticeably surprised and distressed to receive the news, promised him or someone like him would look into the matter immediately, in order to pacify the usually calm and understanding Afghani Muslim clerics.

Abdul Fatah Fayeq, a top Muslim official in northern Afghanistan, read a statement representing the unhappy religious men, asking that President Bush "hand the culprits over to an Islamic country for punishment," then following the request with a warning that the groups will declare a rare "jihad," or "holy war" in the Muslim tongue, on America if their demands were not met.

Fayeq did not apologize for his gruff manner or give any sign he might be exaggerating the severity of the statement. Muslim extremists, normally fun-loving and quite forgiving of cultural misunderstandings, demonstrated none of their usual appreciation for extremity of the situation with Camp X-Ray prisoners.

The outbreak of anger stems from alleged incidents in which American interrogators in Camp X-Ray derided the Muslim holy book, or "Koran" (also spelled "Quran," "Kyuran," "Coaraan," or "Krryzzxl" in American newspapers). Unusually cruel or culturally insensitive interrogators also may have put the holy book on a toilet or even flushed one. For the prisoners, who may have suffered long hungry months in the desert, starvation, being shot at, roughly apprehended, quarantined from daylight in prison cells, and possibly even beaten, this was abnormally cruel punishment.

Back home, which this reporter never left, Newark University's Norm Chauncey, Professor of Islamic Studies, tried to shed some light on this unusual turn of events.

"Although it might be a surprise to most Americans, many Islamic groups, especially the more fundamentalist types, have a long history of disagreements with America," said Professor Chauncey. "Usually with severe agreements, Islamic fundamentalists prefer to extend a certain amount of trust in American initiatives in hopes of solving disputes peaceably. However, in more severe cases, or with the rare hot-headed Muslim extremist, members of Islamic groups can turn violent against Americans lending aid in their fair countries. This is the so-called 'jihad,' or 'holy war,' which Fayeq made reference to."

Many expect President Bush will follow his usual trend of conceding to reasonable demands of foreign religious groups, but some worry the president's concession to the requests might inspire tougher demands from some of the extreme religious groups around the world.

"We all know the president's eagerness to please the requests of those who are suspicious of the United States," said Ray Herkle, the world's most sarcastic man. "But what will happen if the peace-loving Muslim clerics of Afghanistan decide they want even more from the U.S.? They might make equally reasonable demands, such as a flying unicorn with a leprechaun on its back, or a golden dragon that shits pixies. It would be a horrible thing to earn the disrespect of the Muslim community in Afghanistan."

I am royally bummed, good people. I can say that without fear of contradiction. For one, because anyone can verify how true it is, and two, because I'm simply not afraid of contradictions anymore. The therapy is working. I can't control when someone else disagrees, so I just have to let it go and move on with my life.

But back to business—my bummed nature. It's nothing too severe, but I'm quite disappointed that I've exhausted my supply of Haitian cigarettes. I knew they wouldn't last forever, but I had no idea they would go so fast. It seems no sooner had I stepped off the plane than I completely emptied my little baggy full. What a shame.

I should explain myself, since I haven't informed you of my wonderful find yet. On vacation in Haiti with the Mrs., my Mrs., just in case you wondered, I discovered the one high-quality product they make in Haiti: cigarettes. If you think you've smoked wonderful, mind-blowing tobacco before, good people, you haven't smoked anything like Haitian tobacco. It makes your mind come alive with possibilities, and suddenly everything becomes funnier and more important than it previously had been. Now that's good tobacco.

In truth, I had intended to do more on my honeymoon—parasail, scuba dive, leave the hotel in some fashion, but I had to let Mrs. Finger run off by herself, because I so enjoyed sitting in my room, smoking Haitian tobacco and watching cartoons on television. It is that good, my friends. You can bet I packed a healthy supply of handrolled—they're all handrolled down there—cigarettes before I came back to the States.

I worried about having trouble with them on the plane, if you know what I mean—smoking's prohibited. Well, of course, I knew it would be difficult to resist the fine, fresh flavor of Haitian tobacco for the entire plane ride, so I taped all my cigarettes under my armpits before departing for home. The customs official gave me an odd look when he searched me, and I was worried he might jostle them loose and, well, I'd start smoking all 635 of them right away, right there in the airport. Ha! What a sight that would have been. But he didn't even touch them, really. So I got back to our fine country with all my cigarettes intact.

But, alas, they're all gone now. I've never been much of a smoker, really, even though I like to try new things and I always do what people on TV do. These are good, though, I smelled them at a party the first night I was in the country and knew I had to try them. Still, as I said, they're gone now. I finished the last one two days ago and have been, how you might say, "jonesing" for a new one ever since. I've tried regular cigarettes in their stead, but none of them have that smooth, uplifting feeling of real Haitian tobacco.

I'm not saying I'm desperate or anything, but I have taken to driving around bad neighborhoods, looking for Haitians who can hook me up, give me just a little "fix"—since I do feel like I need a tune-up that only satisfying Haitian tobacco can give me. When I see a Haitian, I roll down the window and yell, "Smoke, smoke!" I hope I'm not underestimating their language skills, they may even speak English, but how am I to know that? I'm just anxious to get my hands on some of their nifty cigarettes, and don't have time for lengthy conversation.

Lee says he knows a fellow in some sort of "joint" that knows a guy who can get me Haitian tobacco. Not that I don't believe him, but I worry he's holding out on me, in some fashion. I told him I have the money, or I will by the time I get my next paycheck, or I get paid for the TV that I sold to the neighbor. Right now I need just a little taste—the taste of fine Haitian tobacco.

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