I was pleasantly surprised to stumble onto Fabio’s comments from this interview:
“When I first meet him in the summer of 2006, on the occasion of his passing the torch as official non-butter spread spokes-hunkâ€”he juiced annual sales of I Canâ€™t Believe Itâ€™s Not Butter! from around $25 million to $250 millionâ€”heâ€™s in a voluble mood. Finally unshackled from his major sponsorship obligations, heâ€™s eager to show that he has more on his mind than the ripping of bodicesâ€”or, for that matter, the metaphysics of butter.
â€œThe Israeli people have been the sacrificial lamb of history,â€ Fabio declares. Itâ€™s mid-August, and the bombs are dropping in Lebanon as we stand in the kitchen of his sprawling Spanish-style mansion in Los Angeles (his publicist asked that we keep the neighborhood a secret to deter stalkers). The so-called Harlequin heartthrob, a diehard news junkie, has had a lot on his mind lately, particularly when it comes to Middle East policy and the Iraq war.
â€œItâ€™s about f*cking time,â€ he says, as Fox News reports on Israelâ€™s attempt to push Hezbollah out of Southern Lebanon. â€œ[The Jews] have been getting killed for 5,000 years. Enough is enough. The rest of the world does not give a sh*t, except America, because the Israelis have no oil. Everyone sticks with those Arabsâ€”because they have the oil.â€
“Conversation soon circles back to the Middle Eastâ€”this time, Iraq.
“I’ll tell you my policy,” he says confidently. “Invading Iraq was a total fuck-up because you have Muslimsâ€”Shi’ite, Sunni, and Kurdsâ€”who hate and would like to kill each other to the end of time. Listen, it took a bastard like Saddam Hussein, because he was a fanatic, killing hundreds of thousands, to keep those people quiet. We get there and are like, ‘Oh!’ Now what you’ve got is a civil war and we’re stuck in the middle. It’s like when you step on a nest of rattlesnakes. What are you gonna do? Of course, if we have to go to war with Iran, we are right there. That’s the only good side.”
He’s also critical of how the war has been waged. “We went in too fast,” he says. “To me, shock and awe should not be a light touch. Where’s the shock, you know?” The model, who served the once-mandatory 18 months in the Italian military after high school, nods a lot when he speaks. He’s so damn friendly, even when calling for mass carnage, that I find myself nodding along with him.
“Bomb them for a few years,” he suggests, “And when they start coming out with the white flag … bomb them a little bit more. Then you go in with our soldiers.”
“Let me give you an example in life,” he says, by which he means a example in fantasy. Fabio is big on outrageous hypotheticals. “You can’t go into the ring with Mike Tyson and say, ‘You know, Mike, you can’t punch me in the face because I have a pretty face, okay? And of course you can’t punch me under the belt, and not too hard.’ He wants to rip you apart! He wants to bite your ear off, he wants to kill you. You see, it’s war. This is what people don’t understand.”
“Think about it,” he goes on. “On one hand, they show Abu Ghraib and Americans are like, ‘What’s the world coming to?’ On the other hand, they chop off your head on TV. And you know, they’re watching us and laughing. Because to them we are pussies. It’s like they look at us and they’re like, ‘Oh, look at those wimpy little pussies.'”
Hat Tip to Hot Air