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An American In The Land Of Pie Eaters Ian R Thorpe April 2, 2006 It is not often those of us who live in Lancashire, the Wars of The Roses county in the old industrial heartland of England's North West, get a visit from a major figure in world politics. Can it be coincidence then that last week's visit by Condoleeza Rice was synchronised with the leak of information to the British media about secret meetings between the Pentagon and the Ministry of Defence to work out a strategy for military action against Iran? In order to avoid a repetition of the Iraq debacle it is obvious even to those covert government agencies we laughingly call Military Intelligence that a somewhat more subtle approach was needed if the western powers are to debilitate the theocratic rulers and effect regime change while winning the hearts and minds of the Iranian people. It does not require a mastermind then to work out that Condi was here in Blackburn to secure supplies of the world's most potent weapon against terrorism, the industrial strength meat pie. Lancashire is the traditional home of the meat pie of course, us natives are not called pie eaters for nothing. To subsist on a staple diet of industrial strength meat pies as many generations of our ancestors did requires an indestructible digestive system comparable to that of a goat and a fortitude of spirit that is otherwise only found in salmon as they battle their way up rapids to their spawning grounds. Such is the toxic potency of a dodgy pie that they are banned as weapons of modern warfare under the Geneva convention (we Lancastrians, being weaned from our mothers' breasts on them are immune of course) but so long as war has not been officially declared they can be sneaked into an enemy country disguised as food aid. How does a meat pie work and how can people be fooled into eating them? The elegance of their use as an assault weapon lies in the fact that non - industrial meat pies, those made by your mum or granny, are not only completely harmless but also nutritious and delicious and even the ones served in respectable catering establishments are usually quite appetising. The industrial variety however is made with meat of very dubious origin. Everything the abattoir cannot get rid of even for cat's meat ends up in meat pies. Lips, arsholes, eyes, tails, unmentionables and things that defy forensic analysis all go into the melange along with dodgy chemicals to add flavour and colour (which is a joke, the inside of a meat pie is a dull grey in hue, even after cooking) all go into the melange along with crumbs of stale bread and a glob of glutinous goo so vile it would make a cockroach choke. This melange is then formed into balls which are encased in a pastry made from paper dust and sump oil. They are then baked in batches at very high temperature which triggers a quantum reaction that causes the atoms to become unstable. The terminally naive have been known to eat meat pies unaccompanied. Those endowed with native wisdom will only eat an industrial meat pie if it is accompanied with mushy peas. These are marrowfat peas marinated in a solution of bicarbonate of soda and overcooked until they are reduced to a green puree. On contact with this substance the unstable atoms are neutralised. Travellers visiting Lancashire should avoid putting themselves at risk. Avoid buying pies from street vendors, roadside food vans and stalls at sporting events. Sports events always arouse passions and none more so than soccer matches. Soccer crowds have been known to throw toilets rolls, coins, half eaten sandwiches, dead fish and molotov cocktails at match officials but there is no case on record of anybody throwing a meat pie at the referee. That would be too inhuman to contemplate. On the other hand, soccer crowds are known for insulting chants and the worst one, directed at any official or member of security staff who appears slightly overweight goes: "Who ate all the pies, Who ate all the pies, You, fat bastard, You, fat bastard, You ate all the pies." The insult lies in the fact that the target is not only being accused of being so greedy he has deprived the paying spectators of their half time fun, watching the visiting team's supporters spontaneously combust after two or three bites of pie, but that he must have the constitution of a sewer rat in order to have survived such a feat. On the issue of homeland security it is worth noting that Lancashire has never suffered a terrorist attack since the Vikings raided Shuttlebotham's pie factory in Oswaldtwistle and the resulting flatulence propelled them at each other with such force that all but two were fatally impaled on the horns on each others helmets. We say "let Al Qaeda come with their dirty bombs, we will be ready for them with our pies of mass destruction.
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