he latest video from self-styled "gangsta wrapped in a bedsheet" Osama bin Laden appears to be the most successful offering yet from his recent album. Produced and directed by Mullah Omar tha Hit Maker, from 2001's "Ol' Dirty bin Laden in da Hizzouse," the video, "Don'tcha Fuck wit Ma Allah," is the third single to chart. It is now in heavy rotation on VH1, has been shown many times on that network's popular Pop Up Video program, and is number one with a bullet on Al Jazeera's afternoon show, Fundamentalist Dance Party. It is also rumored that a twenty-second clip of the video was aired on MTV at approximately 4 AM Tuesday of last week, but those rumors could not be confirmed at the time we went to press.

Following on the heels of the first two singles from "...in da Hizzouse," this latest single promises to make it his most successful album ever, and could garner him a nomination for Comeback Artist of the Year.

Not many people would have predicted that when the first video from the album was released. "Wha' da 911?" suffered from poor production values, and many critics thought it ran overlong, causing viewers to quickly lose interest in the muddy sound mix. The second video, "I Ain't Dead Yet, Bitch," showed more promise, but topped out at number 37 on the charts and disappeared after just a few short weeks. "Don'tcha Fuck wit Ma Allah" appears to have staying power the first two singles lacked.

There are some dissenting voices, however. On the East Coast, especially, a few insiders who preferred to remain anonymous commented that "his shit is dead, man, it ain't fresh." In response, noted Marin County, California, critic John Walker Lindh was quoted as saying "That Al Qaeda beat is funky stupid, dawg, and Osama is Playa Numbah One. It's phat, it's phresh, it's... uh... it's phluffy. You can totally dance to it."

This album marks only the second release for bin Laden since his move to Al Qaeda Mob Records. The first effort, 1993's "Truck Bombin' NYC," failed to generate much critical acclaim, and dropped out of sight soon after its release due to poor sales. Prior to that, it had been a number of years since any product had been put out at all. In the late '80s and early '90s, bin Laden collaborated with former U.S. president George H. W. Bush (the one that was actually elected) in a series of forgettable albums for the now-troubled label CIA Assassin Records and Wiretaps. Their most notable release was titled "Tha Enemy of Ma Muthafuckin' Enemy," and prominently featured Bush, performing under the name Pukeface Killah GH-Dub, with his minor hit, "Nitty Ditty Gritty Big Bird." Bin Laden's contribution to that song was the turntable-scratching and chanted background chorus, "Yo, muthafuckah, yo muthafuckah, yo muthafucka, yo." The only other song from that mix to chart at all was a cover of Tone Loc's "Funky Cold Medina."

ll it took was one crying 10-year-old boy spotted bolting out of a prominent federal office, wearing what appeared to be darkly-stained lederhosen, to signal a surprising new twist in the ongoing war against terrorism.

Citing a need to "keep American boys on their toes and pure from the effects of Islamic terrorists," Attorney General John Ashcroft, in an impromptu press conference yesterday, unveiled a plan to teach young men from the ages of 8 to 15 how to recognize the signs that they are being, or are about to be, recruited, seduced and/or molested by Muslim fanatics. In an unprecedented gesture of self-sacrifice, and sweating profusely as he spoke, the Attorney General said that he has taken it upon himself to personally teach "as many boys as I possibly can."

"You've got to get them young," Ashcroft said. "Otherwise, there's no telling what kind of corrupting influences they may have had that will keep them from realizing the terrible tragedy that potentially awaits them at the hands of these fundamentalist zealots. That's why I'm making it my personal mission to educate these fine, young, trim, well-proportioned… uh… boys."

"It's a known fact that these terrorists are bound and determined to infiltrate our society and subjugate our way of life by forcibly introducing our youth to the Homosexual Agenda," Ashcroft went on to say. "Why, just look at the pictures we have of them—most of them walk around every day in these long white dresses! You can't tell me these fellows aren't a little light in their loafers, or sandals, or whatever it is they wear on their feet. Maybe kicky black patent leather pumps, who knows?"

The program apparently involves hands-on demonstrations of the types of Arabic buggery that Ashcroft claims is widespread throughout the Middle East, and that poses a significant threat to the well-being of male American youth. "We show them—and I mean we show them good—just what those terrorists have in store for them if they're not careful. After all, you know what it says in that fake Bible of theirs, the Also-ran—excuse me, I mean the Ko-ran—'in sexual congress, for children, a woman. For pleasure, a boy.' It also goes on to say, 'for real pleasure, like you've never had before, an overripe melon,' but we'll leave the melons alone for the time being. Better, we think, to concentrate on the boys."

When asked about the actual methods of instruction, Ashcroft said, "We simply follow what it says in the real Bible—you know, 'Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.' We also like the passage that says 'Thou anointest me with oil.' In fact, we're ordering up dozens of cases of Crisco for this project, with the money coming out of the Homeland Security budget. I'm envisioning a number of one-on-one, or maybe a few two-on-one sessions, as many as I can fit into my schedule, with as many young, nubile, half-dressed… er… boys as we can recruit, here in my private, comfortable, tastefully-appointed office."

The Attorney General, when asked if he had a list of boys who might qualify for this training, replied that he had approximately 600 young men in mind to get the program off the ground, but that he would not reveal any names, on the grounds of national security. "You think I want to hand Osama bin Laden a ready-made list of American boys to pursue for his evil, filthy machinations? No sir. No sir. We're keeping this list private, and that's that. Just me and Ari and Karl. Not even the president has access to those names. No sir." Ashcroft then mopped the considerable sweat from his brow and called an end to the press conference, ignoring the muffled wails heard far down the corridor from his office.

Ned Nedmiller come from a long line of popular sloganeers. Nary a time has this great nation hoofed it off to war without a snappy Nedmiller slogan a-hummin' in their brain boxes. In the big one it was "Give a Hoot, Smoke a Boot" and in the big one, the sequel, it was "Damn the Gravy Crank, Macie!" Them Korean War wouldna been near as keen were it not for "Loose Anus, Shank the Dentist" and who can think of Vietnam without remarkin' to themselves "Gimmie a Slice a' Mermaid Pie!" Not quite as many people as you'd think.

Ned's daddy, and the fella who shot Ned's daddy out his pee-hole (Steve) both was popular sloganeers also. Them presided over the golden age of sloganeerin', and nobody not far or near confused them with anything but the best. Dad Nedmiller often would tell stories of them days of his four fathers back when them slogans was classic and simple, and of the time when his pappercorn invented the world's most famous slogan: "Okay, Bill." That was the ringer that cemented his undying fame and created them family fortune you've been readin' about on the bubblegum wrappers and whatnot. It was the slogan against which all others would be judgemencated, and harshly so.

But that's not to say Dadmiller and Grandcracker didna dream up any no other slogans of international famousness. "Don't Wet My Bagpipe!" "A Man, A Tarpaulin, A Combustible Weasel Throne: Sioux Falls," "I Can't Believe I Porked the Pope!" "The Rancid Backbeaver State," "Don't Eat the TNT," "Remember the Alamo and Some Milk," "Give Me Liberty or Give Me Electric Sex Goggles," "We Have Nothing to Fear But Martian Sodomy Squads," and "Rowdy's Soup is Mm Mm Wet," are all to their credits. A fine legacy that's one tough horse and pony show to follow, if you don't mind me sayin'.

Ned Nedmiller has done his best to follow in their novelty-sized footsteps. Nedder made his name early with such rememberable slogans as "A Friend in Needles is in Nevada," "I'm With Stupid," "Shit Stinks," "Go Up, Space Moron," "Smells Like Kindercare," "Rachet Down the Tuna Shaker," "Asthmatics Have More Fun," "Dribble Glass, My Ass," and "Don't Spaz the Curb Monkey!" But Neddle didn't really hit his stride until he penned the counterculture hit slogan of them 60's: "Flush it Down, Charlie Brown." Them slogan captured the imagniariums of a whole generation and put Nedder on the map, as them cartographers is fond of sayin'. Ned got himself a tickletape parade for that caper, and is still beloved by acid burn-outs of all ages, yessir.

Sloganeerin' is quite a pursuit, bringing you much famousness when done right and the satisfaction of givin' folks something to say when they got nothing to say on their own. Quite a charm. And don't let a contradictionary word be spoke about the eternal nature of them very best slogans. You know what them robotic space dinosaurs will say in a billion and one years when they dig up them fossils of you and your neighbors. That's right. "Flashdance in Grover Cleveland's Ass!"

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