23/3/01

Arik, Arak and Barak

Who made a prime minister out of Sharon? A mad scientist. And, of course, Shas.

    "How did Arik Sharon do it? What transformed him from irritation to inspiration, from provocateur to premier? We came to the Institute of Political Science to find out. Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Israel and all the ships at sea, this is Scoop Greenberg coming to you live.
    "The elections were actually decided here, at Dr. Frank N. Stein's laboratory. Doctor, tell us about the work you do."
    "It's simple, really. We're scientists. We create politicians. We'll take some shnook, a shnook with lots of money, give him the works, make a political animal of him. Or we'll fix up someone who's a few rungs short of the top, and needs only a better chin, thicker skin, or something as simple as the right hat."
    "Sharansky."
    "Right. Sharansky decides to go into politics. He comes to the Institute here, he wants the full TTT, or Typecasting Transmogrification Treatment. Lip liposuction, half a meter of height, hair like David Levy, English like Bibi. Makes an appointment. Walks into my office wearing a fedora. I crack up. We try everything with him, but eventually we just put his old hat back in its place and -- y'know, sometimes nature gets it right, and this little fellow was perfect: perfectly flawed, lips, height, hat and all."
    "Tell us about some of your most notable successes."
    "Penis."
    "I beg your pardon?!"
    "Exactly. In comes this MK, wants to cozy up to the Americans, but no one there takes him seriously. We run all the tests on him; turns out, it's his name. He's got this awful name. Every time he's introduced to an American audience, the name comes out like 'Offer Penis.' So we surgically attached a PCAS, or Politically Correct Alternative Surname, and voila, we created a Mr. Hyphen-Paz.
    "Then there was Yitzhak Levy. A really sweet man. But these days, if you're representing the settlers, you want brute, not cute. Now look at him: that face could stop an army. Mean looking fellow; he chose that face out of my catalogue. It's no coincidence he's No. 1 on the NRP list, and baby-faced Yahalom is No. 3.
    "You have no idea what these people were like when they came to us. Yossi Beilin wore contact lenses. Tommy Lapid, a kippa. And Bibi, wow, how much we put into that man. But the new hair color, that was his wife's idea -- and the wife was his idea; we put together a real motek for him, but he apparently has a mind of his own, besides the one we implanted. And that's the difference between Bibi the frontrunner and Bibi the also-ran.
    "And then there's Arik Sharon..."
    "Hold that thought, Dr. Stein; we'll continue after this commercial break."
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    "Ta-dum, da-dum, dum-dum diddly-dum-dum, tur-r-r-r-um! (chiga-boom, chiga-boom, chiga-boommmm...) Hallo! It's me, Masha, Masha the Emunah Lady, you bought your raffle ticket already? No? Why not buy, only 10 shekels, you hear me? We have wonderful door prizes, much better than what you get from Hadassah ladies. My husband bought four already! You can win maybe a trip, maybe a watch. You have a watch? OK, so if you're lucky you won't win a watch. Listen, I wouldn't be standing here in these shoes if this wasn't a good cause. Hallo, can you hear me? I only have a few tickets left, so you have to buy now. What's 10 shekels anyway, especially if you win something. Nu?"

"WE'RE BACK, with Dr. Frank N. Stein at his 'Image Factory.' Ariel Sharon is a new man, thanks to these political scientists. Doctor, what's changed about the Old Bulldozer?"
    "For three decades this guy had nothing nice to say about any prime minister. Suddenly, a few months ago, he realizes, hey, I'm on deck. He makes an appointment with me immediately.
    "I look him over. It didn't take long to size him up: he's got, shall we say, presence. I say, let me guess: it's your weight problem. He says, is there a problem with my weight? No, he says, it's his image: people don't see him as friendly. OK, I tell him, we can make you friendly. He says, friendly and lovable.
    "I put the entire staff on this case. We do an exploratory -- and believe me, it wasn't easy: he's thick-skinned, in more ways than one -- and we find plenty of everything, but there's actually something missing. He couldn't smile. Didn't have the muscles for it. Well, it so happens we had an extra set -- they once belonged to Peres, said he doesn't need 'em anymore, so we extracted them -- and performed a grin graft. At first his body rejected the transplant, and he could only snarl and scowl. A little laughing gas fixed that, and ever since, you can't wipe the smile off his face. From a grizzly we made a teddy bear."
    "Truly amazing, Dr. Stein. Now tell me: have you had any notable failures?"
    "You heard of Aryeh Deri? The Shasniks are right: he's innocent. I'm to blame. He knew he was in trouble early on: he came to us with a severe case of tackydactylous, or in layman's terms, sticky fingers. Worst case I ever saw. We couldn't cure him. Best I could do was prolong the inevitable by giving him massive doses of chutzpah.
    "Then there's Yitzhak Mordechai. Oh, we really messed up on that one. I can't go into details, but I will say this: he ain't shy with the ladies anymore.
    "Couple of years ago, Azmi Bishara decides he wants to run for prime minister. Comes to me and says he'll do anything, but he won't shave the moustache. Now, if that's his ambition, this guy's got an obvious handicap -- and it's not the face fuzz. I tell him no problem, it's a cut-and-dried procedure, it's called 'conversion.' And you can keep the moustache. You never saw a guy up and leave so fast."
    "Dr. Stein, in your opinion, how much influence did you have on the outcome of the elections?"
    "I'd say about 100%, Scoop."
    "Are you saying you, and you alone, put Sharon in office?"
    "Heh, heh. Quite the opposite, in fact."
    "I think you'd better explain."
    "Barak comes to the institute here. The guy was a mess. I mean, he's got a speech defect, a wart on his face, he looks like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, and with all that, he got himself elected. He comes back for a followup: this time he has no spine, no vision, no sense, no mandate, no policies, no credibility, and with an election coming up, no hope. Do something, he says.
    "Well, it so happens, Sharon was here at the same time, polishing up his handshake. Earlier that day, Eli Yishai was in for a charismatherapy session, and brought us a case of homemade arak. Well, y'know how these things happen, we made a lunch of it. We were wasted. And next thing we know, we have both candidates at our mercy. Arik, arak and Barak: it was a potent mix. I don't know, maybe we shouldn't have done it."
    "Done what?"
    "The works. A complete transplant."
    "You switched them?!"
    "Just for fun. We wanted to see what would happen."
    "And what did happen?"
    "Barak won the elections."