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Letter to Burak Bekdil

Dear Mr. Bekdil,

          I’m writing in response to your column entitled “Can We Insult Turkishness Now?” Well, I say: put it to the test. Gather together a couple hundred of college students and other, brave, joyful souls, and a microphone. Set yourself up in front of the Parliament building, and find out exactly how much insulting Turkishness can take. Pass the microphone around, read out some insults, and see how quickly you fill up the jails. Here a few insults you can start with:

Turks are terrible spellers.

Turks have smelly feet.

Turkishness is over-rated.

Turkish mothers wear army boots.

The Ottomans were actually Metrosexuals.

Turkish is a snarky language.

Aşure isn’t all that great.

Neither is lokum.

Did you hear the one about two Turks who left the meyhane before it closed?         

         -Well, there’s a first for everything.

How many Turks does it take to screw in a light bulb?            

      -Hey! That’s not funny!!!!

Nobody on the entire planet cares one whit what Turkish women wear on their heads.  

And then you can move on to insulting Turkish institutions: 

The Ministry of Culture is painted a lousy color.

Turkish military uniforms are ugly.

The Ministry of Higher Education is staffed by poo-poo heads.

Turkish courts are better suited to tennis than justice.

No person’s life, liberty or bank account is safe while Turkish Parliament is in session.

The hamams are all filled with lesbians.

Mustafa Kemal was color blind.

Turkish coffee isn’t, as a matter of fact. Its Arabic.

How can you tell a Turkish police officer is dead?

          -the simit falls out of his mouth.

If you and your friends can get away with broadcasting these insults, then Article 301 is well and surely dead. If, on the other hand, you wind up in jail, well, then your countrymen will have underscored their juvenile tendencies.

Yours, safely in another country,



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