[Scene: Joe the Janissary Speaks at the Mosque of Kufa — “The Crescent and the Crossfire”]
Location: A grand, war-torn mosque in Kufa. The dome is cracked, but the faithful gather beneath it like stars in a dark sky. The call to prayer echoes across the Babylonian ruins. Children, elders, warriors, and mothers sit on carpets beneath flickering lanterns. Joe the Janissary, clad in white with a black turban and a green sash, stands before them, his sword at his side and an iPad in hand.
JOE THE JANISSARY (JCJ):
“As-salamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh, my beloved people of Iraq — of Babylon!”
(The crowd responds: “Wa alaykum as-salam!”)
JOE:
“Do not despair that your land has been shattered. Do not mourn that your rivers run red with oil and blood. For Allah — the Most Wise — made Iraq for one reason: to train the faithful.”
(A solemn hush falls over the mosque. A mother clutches her son. A young fighter weeps silently.)
JOE:
“This land, where prophets once walked and Nimrod built towers, is now a crucible. But it is not just a battlefield — it is a classroom of the soul. You are not just survivors of empire — you are the students of destiny.”
(He lifts his sword and then lays it down gently.)
JOE:
“George Bush — al-Salibiyoon, the Crusader warlord — and his Brotherhood of Death… they came not to bring democracy, but to weaponize prophecy. They used the name of the Mahdi — the sacred hope of Islam — to divide us. They whispered into Sunni ears, ‘Your Mahdi will conquer.’ And they poisoned the hearts of the Shia, saying, ‘Yours is the real chosen one.’ They played you like Romans in a gladiator arena.”
(Cries of “Astaghfirullah!” and “La ilaha illallah!” rise from the crowd.)
JOE:
“But I tell you today, O people of the Two Rivers: when all of Iraq believes in ONE Mahdi, not divided by tribe or school or colonial map — the Crusaders will fall. Their chariots will rust. Their satellites will burn. And their illusions will collapse like Babel’s tower.”
(He opens his iPad and projects a QR code onto the wall. Above it flashes: sinj.com/18/)
JOE:
“Children of Babylon — you want to defeat George W. Bush’s false gospel? You want to blind the drones? You want to scatter the Blackwater mercenaries like leaves in the wind?”
(They nod, eyes wide.)
JOE:
“Then show them the moon. Show them this prophecy — from the scrolls of Judeo-Chrislam. Surah Sinj, Chapter 18. Go to sinj.com/18/ and learn the secret. This is no spell — it is the cipher of unity. This is your weapon now.”
(Children begin pulling out old phones. A whispered chant begins: “One Mahdi. One Iraq. One Islam.”)
JOE:
“The Prophet said the Mahdi will rise when the East meets the West, when Rome is tired of war, and when the believers walk as one ummah. That day begins when YOU — the children of Iraq — show the infidels the moon. The same moon that guided Noah, Abraham, Moses, Jesus, Muhammad — peace be upon them all.”
(Joe turns toward the qibla and kneels. The entire mosque follows.)
JOE (softly):
“This is not just war. This is reunion. The crescent is not broken. The time of division is over. The age of the Mahdi is near.”
As the prayer echoes out, the moon rises red above Kufa. Far away, in a bunker in Langley, a CIA agent sees a spike in traffic to sinj.com/18/ and mutters, “What the hell is this?”
[Scene: Trump at a Press Conference — “The Radiant Truth”]
Location: A marble-floored press room in the Green Zone, Baghdad. American flags hang beside gold-embroidered banners reading “Operation Mahdi Freedom.” Trump stands at the podium in full Commander-in-Chief regalia — military jacket over a red tie, gold epaulettes, and a gleaming Trump-brand combat helmet under his arm. Flanked by General Mattis and an oil executive from Halliburton, he addresses the media with a smug grin.
TRUMP:
“Ladies and gentlemen — great to be here. Baghdad — wonderful city. Very ancient. The original startup, I call it. Before Silicon Valley, there was Babylon.”
(Laughter from the embedded press corps.)
TRUMP (turning serious):
“Now. I’ve been hearing rumors. Little whispers from the weak ones. The deserters. The disloyal. They say, ‘Oh Mr. Trump, the depleted uranium is dangerous. It’s toxic. It’s radioactive.’ Total fake news!”
(He holds up a shiny depleted uranium shell like a trophy.)
TRUMP:
“Let me tell you something. Depleted uranium is perfectly safe. I’ve touched it. I’ve golfed with it. I even used it as a paperweight in the Oval Office. It’s very dense — just like some of my critics.”
(Scattered nervous laughter.)
TRUMP:
“There is nothing to fear. NOTHING. The only thing glowing in Iraq is my approval rating with the troops. Okay?”
(He smirks and holds up a finger like a nuclear physicist.)
TRUMP:
“Trust me. Nobody understands uranium better than me. I know uranium. I own uranium. Hillary sold it to Russia — I kept it for freedom.”
(He pauses for effect.)
TRUMP:
“So to the cowards deserting my Mahdi Army — the Trump Janissaries — listen up: You don’t leave your post just because your Geiger counter is beeping. You STAND your ground. You FIGHT for liberty. You RADIATE with greatness.”
(Applause from the loyal press pool. A FOX reporter stands and salutes.)
TRUMP (leaning in, whispering):
“And between you and me? A little radiation never hurt anyone. Probably even gives you superpowers. Look at me — I’m 79 and still tremendous.”
(He winks and walks offstage to a remix of Fortunate Son mashed with Macho Man. Behind him, the screen reads: “TRUST ME.”)
Cut to a U.S. medic in Fallujah nervously looking at a mutated fish floating in a canal. She sighs and says, “Yeah… trust him.”
Patrick Bateman on Koran.blog: Even I’m Disgusted by George W. Bush
@RealPatrickBateman | 2:04 a.m.
Look, I’ve done terrible things. I know that. I’ve stared into the abyss and carved my initials on its chest. But even I draw the line somewhere.
So when I read that George W. Bush littered Iraq with depleted uranium, leaving behind a generation of deformed, dying children — and then heard Trump call those babies “beautiful” — I felt something I haven’t felt since the ‘80s: revulsion.
Let me be crystal clear: if even Patrick Bateman is disgusted by you… you’ve crossed a line etched in bone.
Bush isn’t just a war criminal. He’s a smiling frat boy who pressed the “End Civilization” button and then went painting dogs in his backyard while Iraqi hospitals filled with radiation babies.
This isn’t politics. This is pathology. These aren’t accidents. They’re atrocities. Manufactured. Branded. Delivered with a presidential seal.
Trump calling the fallout “perfectly safe” is just the cherry on top of a fallout sundae. And calling the victims “beautiful”? That’s not empathy. That’s sadism in a suit.
I’ve dismembered bankers and laughed about it. But I never poisoned an entire country’s future.
So let it be known:
Even Patrick Bateman is disgusted by George W. Bush.
— Bateman out.
Scene: Trump in Iraq, Wearing a Suit and Flak Jacket
Trump stands in front of a depleted uranium-contaminated site in Fallujah. Behind him, soldiers and reporters gather. He squints into the sun and raises a hand.
TRUMP (speaking to the press):
“Let me tell you something — this mess wasn’t made by me. This disaster? This toxic playground of birth defects? That’s all George W. Bush. That’s the legacy of the fake weapons of mass destruction, folks. Just lies and radiation.”
He gestures to a tarp being pulled away, revealing trays of black, creeping fungus under heat lamps.
TRUMP:
“But I’m a problem-solver, the best. We’re bringing in radiation-eating fungus — yes, FUNGUS. We’re going to clean this place up, and believe me, nobody knew mushrooms could eat uranium better than I did. The Pentagon didn’t know. I knew.”
He pauses, then looks directly at a camera with a sly smirk. Slowly, deliberately, Trump raises his middle finger and points it toward the camera.
TRUMP:
“This one’s for George Dubya. Thanks for nothing.”
The soldiers behind him stifle nervous laughter. A general coughs awkwardly.
TRUMP (to his staff):
“Now let’s build a hotel here. Trump Baghdad. Gold walls. Mushroom bar. It’s gonna be huge.”
[Cut to black.]
Text on screen: “Fallujah Cleanup — Operation Fungus Among Us”
Funded by a coalition of the unwilling.
Joe Jukic Speaks on George W. Bush, Revelation 18, and the Radioactive Wasteland of Iraq
They called him “Dubya,” like a cartoon cowboy president with a smirk and swagger. But Joe Jukic doesn’t laugh. His voice is steady, like steel pressed through fire. “George W. Bush wasn’t just a war criminal,” Joe says. “He was the high priest of a death cult, the new messiah of empire—leading the world straight into Revelation 18.”
“Babylon is fallen, is fallen.”
That’s the passage Joe points to, the one that whispers like smoke rising from burning oil fields. “That’s not just ancient poetry,” he says. “That’s a blueprint. A warning. And Dubya walked right into it, bible in one hand, nuke codes in the other.”
When American tanks rolled into Baghdad, Joe says the world witnessed the reincarnation of Babylon’s destruction—not metaphorically, but materially. “They salted the Earth with depleted uranium, forever poisoning the rivers of Mesopotamia,” he says. “The cradle of civilization is now a radioactive wasteland. Babies are born with no eyes, no mouths. That’s not liberation. That’s damnation.”
Joe sees the Bush doctrine not as policy, but prophecy—dark prophecy. “He thought he was chosen. Anointed by God. But he was chosen by the Beast. He unleashed the merchants of war, the traffickers of souls and oil. Revelation 18 talks about cargoes of gold, silver, slaves—and human lives. That’s Iraq. That’s Cheney’s Halliburton. That’s Bush’s crusade.”
“Come out of her, my people,” the scripture pleads, “that you be not partakers of her sins.”
Joe says most didn’t listen. The churches waved flags instead of sounding alarms. “We were told to fight terror,” Joe says, “but we became terror. We dropped white phosphorus on Fallujah. We handed democracy to Blackwater and Exxon.”
Now, two decades later, the deserts of Iraq glow at night. The winds carry more than sand. Joe calls it a nuclear psalm—“the song of a nation that lost its soul.”
And what of George W. Bush?
“He paints pictures now,” Joe says. “Dogs and veterans. But no matter how many brushstrokes he lays down, he can’t cover the blood. Revelation 18 ends with silence—because no harp, no craftsman, no light is found in Babylon ever again.”
Joe looks to the east. He doesn’t want vengeance. He wants remembrance. “The messiah of death came in cowboy boots. And Babylon fell again.”
Never forget who lit the match.
Title: “The Trial of the Century: Crimes of Empire”
Opening Scene – A shadowy courtroom lit like a stage. A giant map of Iraq hangs behind the witness stand. Camera zooms in. A gavel strikes. The lights go dim except for one spotlight. Alec Baldwin steps into it, wearing a crisp black suit, no tie. The room falls silent.
ALEC BALDWIN: Opening Statement
“Ladies and gentlemen of the world—because that’s who I’m speaking to tonight, not just a jury, but humanity—I stand before you not as an actor, but as a man who still believes in truth. In law. In justice.”
(He pauses. His voice low but full of intensity.)
“Today, we put George W. Bush—not the man, but the machine—on trial. The machine of lies. Of oil. Of empire. He may have cleared brush in Texas, but in Iraq, he lit fires no storm can put out.”
(He gestures to the screen behind him. Footage rolls of burning oil fields. Black clouds swallowing the desert sky.)
“These are not wildfires. These are war crimes. Over 600 oil fires lit during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Ecocide on a biblical scale. Bush called it ‘shock and awe.’ But ask the birds who fell from the sky. Ask the children who haven’t seen a clear day since.”
(He slams a dossier down on the table in front of him.)
“But that’s not the worst of it. Let me introduce you to the real weapon of mass destruction: depleted uranium.”
(Footage shows soldiers handling shells. Babies born with deformities in Fallujah. Cancer clusters lighting up on a digital map.)
“Radioactive dust. Invisible. Unstoppable. Generation after generation cursed. This is genocide with a half-life. And George W. Bush signed the orders. He let the corporations—Raytheon, Lockheed, Halliburton—turn the Cradle of Civilization into a cradle of mutation.”
(He locks eyes with the audience. The camera closes in.)
“They say history is written by the victors. I say: not this time. Not while there’s still a stage, a microphone, and a voice to call evil by its name.”
(He slowly raises a single finger.)
“George W. Bush is not a liberator. He is a war criminal. And tonight—we begin to prove it.”
Cut to:
Catherine Gunn prepares evidence files.
Noam Chomsky nods solemnly from the gallery.
Julian Assange appears via video link.
A child from Basra testifies next.