Dear attendees of last night’s Thanksgiving celebration,
You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Never have I seen such a despicable sight on this green earth. Normal Arabic students and friends were transformed into beasts of insatiable greed in front of my very eyes. The mutilated carcasses of the helpless birds alone speak for the gluttony that transpired last night, not to mention the photographic evidence of post-poultry dance moves that were ill-advised if not downright dangerous.
First of all, have you any idea of the ridiculous amounts of food that each and every one of you consumed? Not only that, but many of you had the audacity to complain about being too full even while shoveling more chunks of pecan pie down your gullets. Shame on you. Do you think I felt anything even close to pity when I saw you later on the couch with your tongue lolling out of your mouth and your eyes glazed over? Of course not.
Second of all, for all of those who cooked or baked or sautéed or peeled or mashed or otherwise did anything to help prepare the feast that was later set upon by the guests as a plague of locusts to the harvest, what business did you have in creating anything so delicious? Don’t you know that the human heart is weak, and that by making mouthwatering, delectable dishes, you were setting a trap for the already revolution-enfeebled souls present at the party? Had there only been sleeves of saltine crackers and unfiltered water, I have no doubt we would have witnessed similar hedonism, since these Thanksgiving-ers had all the self-control of a starving herd of goats.
And do I even need to mention the general spirit of gratitude that pervaded the atmosphere with a ripe odor not unlike rotting fruit? The sickly sweetness of good feelings and camaraderie were downright inappropriate, especially since many of us there were hoping to continue focusing on the negative aspects of the political, economic, and social situations in America, Europe, the Middle East as a whole. People kept saying they were thankful for things even when it was abundantly clear that there is no hope and everything is going to hell in a hand basket.
Last but certainly not least, I would just like to say that the generosity of the hostesses was completely inappropriate. Had I seen a herd of Arabophiles like these heading for my doorstep, I would have bolted the doors and called the cops as well as reported them to Homeland Security before lighting the fire under my cauldron of oil and getting ready to heave ho. The willingness with which you opened up your home and allowed it to be destroyed in a craze of excess clearly points to some kind of mental illness, for which I hope you will be treated very soon.
I hope to never see anything so disturbing again, and I’m thankful for the fact that Thanksgiving is only once a year.
Your disgusted colleague,
P.S. But really the party was great. The food and the company were both a sheer pleasure to enjoy.