The Greatest Blog In the World

Thursday, March 27, 2003

 

Flipper's a Pussy Dept.



Earlier this week, it was revealed that the U.S. military is employing Atlantic Bottle-Nosed Dolphins to ferret out mines along the coastline of captured Iraqi port city Umm Qasr. I sat down with "Barry," one of these aquatic patriots, and international box-office superstar Harrison Ford at the local Legal Seafood at Umm Qasr and talked about the war, this low-tech approach to mine detection, and the recently-passed awards season. Ford sipped on a martini as Barry tranquilly floated in an aquarium beside our table overlooking the harbor.

Bunsen: Barry, so how did you come to join the war effort in the Middle East?

Barry: I was raised in captivity by the United States Navy and specially trained to detect aquatic-based explosive charges. That being said, it's always been my dream to help save American lives.

Harrison Ford: That's really noble.

Barry: I've heard you fly helicopters.

Ford: I do.

Barry: That's amazing.

Ford: It's really not all that difficult. Nothing like sniffing out a mine in the Persian Gulf.

Barry: Please. It's almost instinctual. I just use my God-given sonar. But you, man...people weren't meant to fly, and you overcome that. It's awe-inspiring.

Ford: I'm just an actor. You're a real patriot.

Barry: That's kind of you to say.

Bunsen: Excuse me, Indy, but let's steer the conversation back to Barry.

Ford: That's what I was trying to do. And please, enough with the Indy stuff. You know perfectly well that's not my name.

Bunsen: Very well. Barry, how do you feel about the numbers of early casualties the Allied forces have suffered?

Barry: It's tough to hear. Each life laid down in the name of freedeom is precious. But such is the price of Total Fucking Victory.

Bunsen: That's mine, you know.

Barry: I know. Just throwing some props your way. I didn't want you to get jealous because Harrison's here.

Bunsen: I wasn't jealous, I was just trying to keep the conversation on track.

Ford: I'm sure you were.

Barry: You know, "Six Days and Seven Nights" was really underrated.

Bunsen: Oh, come on. This is really undignified. You're a war hero, for Chrissakes.

Ford: I've always defended that film.

Barry: Did you zap that wacky Heche chick?

Ford: I've got a girlfriend now...

Barry: You can tell me. (Motions toward me with a flipper) He'll keep it on background.

Ford: (smiles sheepishly) Well, then yeah, I might have.

Barry: That's so hot.

Bunsen: (clears throat) Barry, what do you think of some of the protests that have erupted back home?

Barry: People have the right to express their opinions. But regardless of their feelings towards the policies of the current administration, they should support our troops.

Ford: I totally agree.

Barry: Hey, how about that Adrien Brody ramming his tongue down Halle Berry's throat at the Oscars?

Ford: That was really something.

Barry: You zapped her too, didn't you...

Ford: A gentlemen never discusses --

Barry: You fucking dog!

Ford: Shhh! (motioning towards me) He's got this all on tape.

Bunsen: I ran out ten minutes ago. Don't worry, Indy.

Ford: (glowers at me, then to Barry:) I so fucking zapped her.

Barry: Dog!

Bunsen: Why don't you ask him about the time he er, zapped Benjamin Bratt?

Ford: I never did that.

Bunsen: That's not what I heard.

Barry: You're being really petty.

Bunsen: Believe what you want.

Ford: (to Barry) Let's you and me talk about this over a couple of pops at the Chi Chi's across the street.

Barry: They have great margaritas. Let's bolt.

Bunsen: Good luck with your duties in the Gulf, Barry. You're an important cog in the Total Fucking Victory machine.

Barry: Fuck off. Tomorrow I'll probably be all hung over and accidentally bump my nose into a mine and wind up as tuna food. You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Bunsen: Of course not! Just because I thought you're being slightly fawning around Indy...

Ford: You've upset him. We're going to leave now.

I watched as Ford rose from our table and wheeled Barry's tank out of the restaurant, pausing only long enough to cast a pointed glance over his shoulder back at me, sneering.

The waiter brought the check. Ford and the dolphin hadn't left any money. I knew that back in the States, I'd be spending some time in the office of my editor at the Washington Post, getting a lecture about trying to expense alcohol. I tried to explain this to the waiter. But he only asked, "Wasn't that Harrison Ford pushing a dolphin tank?"

"No," I said. "That was Harrison Ford pushing a war hero tank."




About this site

This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
If You Like Bunsen, Then You'll Love Bunsen
-->

Archives