nedjelja, 13. rujna 2020.
THE AGONY BEGAM AGAIN¨
The agony began again. More horrific than World War II, the second wave of the coronavirus epidemic, Ivo Sanader's second term as prime minister and the second album of the Blue Orchestra, we received the second international tender for the purchase of a squadron of fighter jets. How the first one ended, it may be better not to mention. Defense Minister Damir Krsticevic has almost lost his mind. Such rage gripped him, that we feared he would raise his hand to himself, or take off his shoes and eat a shoe, devour a whole black men's moccasin number forty-two in a live television broadcast.
When he collected something, he desperately concluded that "there is no harder thing than getting a multi-role fighter plane." Shortly afterwards, he refused to run in the elections again, resolutely rejected both ministerial and parliamentary salaries and honor, and disappeared from our lives. They say he shaved his head, put on an orange dress and taught kung fu in a Tibetan monastery. It's much better today, but as soon as he hears a plane in the sky, even that ordinary, passenger, left eyelid starts to twitch uncontrollably.
Krsticevic did not have the strength to go through that once again, and it is questionable whether we can do the same. Many had stomach cramps on Wednesday as offers, one after another, from Sweden, the United States, Israel and France, came to the government, each with its advantages and disadvantages. Doubts will drive us crazy. Will we take new planes, or are they good and used for us? If they are used, how far have they gone? Were they garaged or did they rot somewhere in the open? Are they gasoline or diesel? Is he the first owner? How's their bodywork? We do not want to reveal too late that we have been deceived, that the supersonic fighter was unprofessionally repaired after a direct missile strike in Afghanistan, or that the greatest hopes of our air force can be peeled off with rust on the floor, or that at nine thousand meters, minus forty five degrees Celsius, the cabin inexplicably turns off the heating,
Money, of course, is not a problem. He never was. The end of our incredibly vibrant economy, advanced industry, fantastic tourism results, record agricultural yields, astonishing growth of gross domestic product, the end of low unemployment and almost no indebtedness, in the divine circumstances in which we live, we can afford to lose half a billion dollars approximately stand twelve planes. If we screw up, thank God, we will easily recoup the money. What we cannot bring back, should we mention at all, are human lives when in two, at the latest, three years, we go to war with Serbia again. On that occasion, we need flawless war machines, better than the ones that Vladimir Putin sold to Aleksandar Vučić,
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For such a thing, no honest Croat would regret giving an annual salary. We all agree that we urgently need planes. If we once had any doubts, if we thought that it might be more reasonable to invest in hospitals, kindergartens or colleges, patriotic defiance awoke in us after Vučić made fun of our old, decayed MiGs. Call a tender and buy it immediately, we would shout out loud, what does it cost, to attack without notice and assemble Serbia and Cacak with black earth, but, as I said, it is difficult to choose the best air weapon for this noble and God-pleasing undertaking. In the next few months, Minister Mario Banožić and several of our largest aviation authorities will go around the aircraft indefinitely, knocking on them, squatting to get a better look at them from below,
They will deliberate, argue, vote and outvote for a long time and still, whatever they decide, in the end they won’t be sure if they made a good decision, got the best value for their money? Should they have negotiated the price more relentlessly with the French? They will be killed by the suspicion that the cunning Israelites made fools of them. They will speculate that with a dozen American F-16s, they might have been able to get a smaller, used aircraft carrier, about half the size of Solta. Or that Sweden, in addition to the Gripen, would give them a twenty-five percent discount on garden furniture at Ikea.
It is an ungrateful job and it is not surprising that Damir Krstičević did not want it anymore. That it even completely drove him away from politics among ordinary citizens, civilians. Mario Banožić will soon discover that there are many more pleasant occupations in the world. Let's hope that the international competition will not fail this time, because for the third time no one alive will want to participate. Suitable candidates will be sought among Croatian cleaners, drivers, storekeepers, shepherds, on construction sites and in fields, in slaughterhouses, cold stores, newsrooms and similar annoying places, but everything will be in vain. "Guys, they're looking for two volunteers!" a sewer boss will shout at his workers through a round hole in the road. "Volunteer for what ?!" someone from below will ask. “For the expert commission. The Ministry of Defense is buying a squadron. ” "Fuck," said a voice from the darkness, "It's nicer among shit." "There is no harder thing than getting a multi-role fighter jet," a colleague from a nearby tunnel will agree.
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