Miguel D'Escoto, Libyan

Out of a job? No worries! If you are an anti-American, Fidel-worshiping, Israel-hating, Ahmadinejad-embracing, Vatican-censured Liberation-Theology-espousing Maryknoll priest and defender of the Sandinista faith, you qualify to become Libya’s representative at the United Nations. There’s a bonus if you are not actually from Libya, and a gold star if you are a former president of the U.N. General Assembly

[i]nspired by the lives and works of such personalities as Leo Tolstoy, M. K. Gandhi, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Dorothy Day . . . an advocate of multilateralism and respect for international law . . . deeply committed to the principles of active nonviolence, solidarity and social justice. . . .

Position filled? No worries! Somewhere there is a murderous tyranny—Iran, China, Russia, Syria, Zimbabwe, Arab Sudan, Cuba—or a prosaic despotism—Nicaragua, Saudi Arabia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Bolivia—in need of your very special skills.

You Want A State? Go Cry for One in Your Non-alcoholic Beer

Or close your eyes tight, wish real hard, and blow on a dandelion. Those could be your best chances of getting one. For, all tarted up though you Fatah and Palestinian Authority mandarins may be—with your “president” (he who apparently is in a hidey-hole somewhere in the world with his hands over his eyes) and your “prime minister” (he who with the same mouth condemns the slaughter and maiming of Israelis and engages in incitement against them)—are you really any better, in the end, than your Hamas “foes,” the men who fashion and wield the bombs for Jew-killing, who shoot rockets across the border and hide from retaliation beneath the burqas of their women, who play slip-n-slide in the blood of their dead comrades; or, for that matter, the mothers who off their children, sending them out with explosives strapped to their not-yet-fully-developed bodies to glorious martyrdom, then celebrate their deaths with feasts of thanksgiving? Enough time—and blood—has been spent by you seeking relief from anyone anywhere but your own passive selves to suggest the answer to that question is a mighty, resounding NO.

What’s more, no matter how many members of the UN Security Council or Obama’s team of Middle East “experts” or Jewish fellow-travelers  of National Socialism may be sobbing in their own watery ales along with you, you will never get a state by terrorizing Israelis. Fifty injured and only one dead? Pah! You’ll just have to be better at murder than that. You’ll have to find a way to smuggle more armaments than ever you have done before from the Land of the Twelvers through the land of the Pharaohs into Gaza, capital of misery and blood-lust, and trundle them on up the road into Ramallah, capital of incitement and fecklessness and, through better synchronization between Iran/Syria and Hizballah/Hamas than ever yet you have managed to produce, bring to fruition the thing you’ve pined for these six decades, that is, seeing the Jewish State erased from the face of the Earth.

Yet even in the unlikely event you succeed at this terrible project of genocide, it will be up to the rest of the Arabs who happen both to surround you geographically and to hate you passionately—notwithstanding the odd salty rivulet making an appearance on your behalf upon the occasional despotic Arab cheek—to decide whether it’s in their interest to let you have a state of your own, rather than herding you into refugee camps in their own lands and making you second-class citizens—as has been their custom—and subsuming the little particle of land that constitutes the Jewish homeland (will they fight over it like wild dogs snarling over a scrap of food in the road?); if they decide for you, perhaps you’ll get your state at last.

But I’d bet on the beer, if I were you. And that dandelion, just for luck.