Sydney and Omar’s BDS Journey – Part 3
Scene 6: The room outside of the office of Roger Ferguson, President and CEO of TIAA-CREF. Abigail Nelson, Ferguson’s secretary, is sitting at her desk filing her nails and talking on the phone.
Miss Nelson: So he says, “Do we have to leave the game now, it’s only the 5th inning?” …and she says “But my dad just had a heart attack! He’s being rushed to the hospital!” … and he says “So is it going to make any difference if we beat him there?” … And she says…
A flash of green light appears below the crack of the door to Miss Nelson’s office. She looks up from her desk to see the door fly open. Sydney and Omar run across her office, giving her a quick wave before bursting through the door of Ferguson’s office. Behind our two heroes trail King Edward I (who tips his crown towards her), Adoph Hitler and two white mice (all of whom ignore her). The door to Ferguson’s office slams shut behind them.
Miss Nelson: Sorry Gladys. Where was I?
Scene 7: Inside Roger Ferguson’s office where the head of TIAA-CREF is putting golf balls into a 4th century Byzantine silver cup.
Sydney and Omar burst in, each grabbing one of Ferguson’s arms and pushing him into an overstuffed armchair near a set of bookshelves.
Sydney: OK Mr. F – you asked for it, you got it!
Omar: Indeed you have, for Syndny and I – that is, Wild Boycott – have travelled through time to bring you some of the greatest champions of BDS throughout history.
Sydney: So without further ado, may I present our first act: Edward the First of England!
King Edward strides up to Ferguson’s chair.
Edward I: Greetings money lender. My young friends have told me about your plight and that you too have a problem with those pesky Jews in your kingdom. To which all I can say is that you have my sympathy. For these deniers of Christ have a filthy past, and a foul present. They control the coin of the realm and had the printing press been invented in my day, would no doubt control the media as well! For those reasons, they have no future in the lands that I rule. And so I urge you… I’m sorry, what is your name again?
Ferguson (shaking briefly out of his bewilderment): Ferguson
Edward I: Ferguson?! A filthy Scot! (He turns in wrath at Sydney and Omar.) You never told me this trip would require me to smell the stench of this blue-faced highlands baboon!
Realizing that they may be losing their audience, Sydney grabs Edward I and drags him back to the rest of the group, leaving Omar to introduce their next speaker to a Roger Ferguson looking more red-faced than blue.
Omar: Guess he got a little carried away there! But you know how royalty can be. But for our next historic boycotter, we bring you a true man of the people. In fact, you could even say one Reich, one Volke, one Fuhrer (he air guitars towards Hitler who reciprocates). But enough of my yacking. For our next great historic personage, I introduce to you Mr. Adolph Hitler!
Hitler strides purposefully up to Ferguson, stares at him in silence for a moment before breaking into a wild storm of German, dousing the TIAA-CREF chairman in saliva. Hitler then careens around the room waving his hands and shrieking about der Juden before finally settling in front of one of Ferguson’s bookshelves. Staring for a moment, he breaks into another rage and begins pulling any book off the shelf by an identifiable Jewish author which he places in a pile before reaching for a box of matches on Ferguson’s desk. Sydney and Omar quickly restrain him and drag him back to the group.
Sydney (turning towards Pinky and the Brain): I don’t think this is going so well (looking at Ferguson, whose face has turned from crimson to purple). It’s all up to you now.
Brain: Fear not, young pup. For I have handled bigger bigshots than this fellow.
The Brain strides over to the chair Ferguson is sitting on and climbs onto one of the arm rests.
Brain: Now I had considered appealing to your sense of duty to humanity, or to use my boundless gifts of rhetoric to win you to our cause. But why go through the trouble when I can just do this!
At this point, The Brain leaps off the arm rest and grabs onto Ferguson’s forehead where he proceeds to pull at locks of hair and kick and bite at the brow of the TIAA-CREF CEO.
Brain: Watch closely Pinky. For I am now applying a form of Tantric Yoga taught to me by Lamas in Tibet. By carefully stimulating nerves in the cranial region of this capitalist goon (he continues to pull Ferguson’s hair and kick his forehead) his mind shall come under my complete control!
Ferguson finally snaps out of the disorientation that commonly afflicts businesspeople when confronted by historical and fictional characters. Grabbing The Brain by the tail he plucks him off his forehead and flicks him across the room where he crashes into Pinky, leaving both mice bruised.
Pinky: I don’ think our Tantric what-cha-ma-call-it worked all that well Brain.
Brain: Perhaps I should have practiced that technique first before trying it out in the field.
Ferguson rises from his chair and glares and Sydney and Omar.
Ferguson: Let me get this straight. After promising me you’d demonstrate historic precedent for BDS, all you’ve been able to bring me is the beast my Scottish ancestors once used to frighten their children, the greatest mass murdered in history and a couple of insane talking rats?!
Brain: Actually, we are genetically engineered experimental lab mice. (Ferguson hurls an ashtray at him which sends him flying across the room.)
Omar: Well, if you put it that way then, yeah. I guess that pretty much sums it up. Pretty cool, huh?
Sydney: So, can we make an announcement that TIAA-CREF will be divesting from Israel this afternoon? We already sent out press releases this morning.
Ferguson looks like he’s about to fly into a rage, but then calms himself.
Ferguson: Boys, until this morning I just thought you and your fellow BDS crew were a bunch of public nuisances. But after this performance I’m going to make it my life’s work to get every dollar managed by TIAA-CREF companies invested in Israel and to convince my fellow investment managers to do the same, fiduciary duties be damned!
He stabs at a button on his desk intercom.
Ferguson: Miss Nelson, send in “The Twins!”
It is now Sydney and Omar’s turn to be bewildered as two giant, identical burly men enter the room, each wearing graduation caps and gowns.
First Burly Man: Duh, yeah boss? What is it you want us to do?
Ferguson: If you would be so kind as to introduce these good people to the pavement in front of our building.
Second Burly Man: You got it boss!
Scene 8: The sidewalk outside of TIAA-CREF HQ. There is a sudden crash as Sydney and Omar are thrown through the glass doors where they land in a heap. A vortex opens up beside them and Edward I, Hitler, Pinky and the Brain, who are thrown out after Syd and Om, are sucked into the vortex and disappear.
The phone-booth time machine drops from the sky above the now-vanished vortex and Alder steps out.
Alder: Greetings dudes!
Omar and Sydney get up and dust themselves off
Sydney: Hi Alder! So where did the guys go?
Alder: Fear not, for they have all been returned to their own time and places, none the worse for wear.
Omar: That’s good, but I’m afraid we failed in our mission most spectacularly.
Alder: Au contraire, my dim-witted friends, for your mission has succeeded beyond your wildest imagination.
Sydney: What do you mean Alder? After what Ferguson just told us…
Alder: Yes, yes I know. He told you that TIAA-CREF was about to go on an Israeli investment binge. And so they do, followed by most of the other nation’s major institutional investors.
Syndey and Omar: But, but…
Alder: You see Syndey and Omar, your dogged persistence in battling for boycott has had a powerful impact on the historic timeline. First, your endless harping on the issue only spurred Israelis to greater feats of innovation and accomplishment in areas such as biotechnology, agriculture, and high-tech replacements for fossil fuels. And thanks to your utter incompetence, your efforts at divestment triggered a flood of investments that fueled these Israeli advances, creating a new Golden Age for man.
Syndey and Omar stare at each other dumbfounded.
Alder: It’s true. In fact, one could say that without your unique blend of self-righteousness and stupidity, we would never have obtained the many Israeli innovations that undergird our world in the future including universal peace, food for all and even endless life.
Omar: Endless life? I thought you looked familiar. You’re… you’re… Sydney, do you know who that is?
Alder (removing his elaborate futuristic headpiece to reveal a mop of curly hair): You guessed it. I’m Alan Dershowitz 26-A, or Alder for short. Thanks to Israeli brain-preservation and cloning technology, I am now about to celebrate my 400th birthday! And in appreciation for our time together, I’d like to give you each a signed copy of my 108th book: The Case for Israeli Square Dancing.
Alder walks into the time machine.
Alder: Anyway, my mission here is completed and I must be off. Gentlemen, you’re history!
The time machine vanishes, leaving Sydney and Omar surrounded by purple smoke.
Omar: Serious bummer dude.
Sydney: You said it. Could what he said really be true? Are we instrumental in creating a Golden Age, yet a world where people don’t put “Israel” in quotation marks?
Omar: Perhaps we should consider throttling back on the divestment lever for a little while. After all, it’s looking like our efforts at a cultural boycott are much more likely to bear fruit in the near term.
The time machine appears one more time and out of the doors flies a youthful looking Elvis Costello wearing Hassidic garb and a jetpack. He hovers over Syndey and Omar for a few seconds holding a pair of knapsacks.
Elvis Costello: Hi dudes! I’m Elco, Alder’s roommate. Did you guys leave these in the time machine?