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We will have another Blue Revolution meeting Thursday. They spring up across the world, America lagging behind somewhat at this time. Below we post again the principles of the revolution as written by Claude Reichman, the French representative of the movement. Following that, an update from our correspondent in Paris.
The threats of Islam continuously worsen our lives. We must organise ourselves and our communities to halt Islam in the West. We must meet our fellow citizens and neighbours to make a stand for our culture and our rights. We need desperately a Anti-sharia Neighbourhood Watch in every community.
If we are to preserve our lives, to preserve our culture and our democracies, we must impose democracy on our own cultures. Our politicians fail us. They consort with Muslim terrorists, take their money by the sackful, as we saw recently with Bill Clinton and Al Gore and who knows who else, and the politicians at the EU level threaten the people with imprisonment for exercising their rights to free speech. Citizens are threatened with beheading by Muslims in London. In Paris, mobs of Muslims control the streets while the police are helpless to disband them.
Our culture has been hijacked by a tiny minority of extremist ideologues. It's time we organise ourselves to take it back from them to restore reason and sanity to our lives. The left is not an ideology of peace. It is an ideology of elitist control.
Some of us are mad as hell, and we're not going to take it any more. Open you eyes.
Here is Claude Reichman:
"What's the point of the Blue Revolution?"
I'm often asked this question and the answer is simple:
The Blue Revolution seeks to liberate speech for the many French who desire to peacefully express their profound rejection of the ruling political class which is increasingly disconnected from the realities and the aspirations of a people desiring to live freely and in peace,and who find themselves today marginalized before so many attacks on the part of politicians."
"As I see things, I would separate these attacks into 4 categories which could of course, be subdivided further:
1) Attacks against our nation and our identity:
Immigration-invasion, continual guilt about our history, praise of multiculturalism;
2) Economic Attacks:
Taxes, fees, Nanny-State, rigidity of work codes, privileges of those in civil service;
3) Freedom-killing attacks in daily life:
Discrimination laws, homophobia laws, reduction of freedom of expression;
4) Attacks against essential values:
Depraved justice where the guilty are treated as the victims; we must retrieve notions of personal responsibility, merit, respect for life, respect for private property, democratic rights.
The Blue Revolution therefore intends upon liberating the speech of the people on these subjects/themes.
The revolution takes place outside the political parties that members may belong to, so that it can better propose a program that we hope will carry forward the wishes of the Blue Revolution for profound changes, thereby allowing our nation to avoid succumbing [to these attacks]."
****
Below is a short piece from Sebastien:
Here's a little update of what seems to be going on in France, please feel free to take what you wish and report on your blog.
The site France-Echos which came down just over 2 weeks ago is back up and seems to be stronger than ever. They are reporting 10,000 unique visitors a day, which is 4,000 more than before the Cartoon mania begun. This may go down, but if you compare Jihadwatch which if my memory serves me correctly, reports 30,000 unique visitors a day, then this French language site is clearly doing very well.
At the bottom of each post there is a logo saying, "please print and send to your deputy." So, while I have been guilty of having not sent anything, there are clearly people who have.
Philippe de Villiers, a centre right politician from the MPF (Extreme Right if you are French) is making very interesting statements in the media which closely resemble those of Claude Reichman. Here's a little update of what seems to be going on in France, please feel free to take what you wish and report on your blog.
Slightly changing the subject, a very popular online polling organisation has published the results of poll asking people which groups of people they like or dislike the most. The results are here http://www.expression-publique
73 % of those who replied, feel distant or very distant to Muslims
This is obviously as unscientific as any poll can be. But as they are being asked via the Internet no one will look over their shoulder before answering.
I guess people don't feel particularly close to moderate Muslims either.
There is a "Support Denmark" demonstration coming soon, which is uniting all the disparate groups who share the same anger against our political class. Link here: http://www.france-echos.com
Kind Regards,
Sebastien
****
France today faces the end of its existence as a Western nation. France, a world leader in the revolution of Modernity that is our life and heritage as Westerners, is facing ruin and rule by criminal gangs from the top and the bottom. As bad is Sweden, is Norway, is Belgium, is Spain. This is the time of the rule of the beasts.
Paid apologists are taking from the West its revolutionary gains of democracy, individualism, of privacy. Man is reduced to a farm animal controlled by the elites, their rule enforced by thugs. This situation will not improve of its own. We must organise ourselves to take back our revolutions of Modernity. If we care to continue as democratic nations then we must put a stop to this corrosion from above and below.
We can do so by organising and meeting each other to express out solidarity in public.
We will be at McDonald's on Thursday from 7-9:00 pm. We will meet. We will organise our resistance to the dhimmitude and the appeasement of those who would destroy our lives. No sharia, no dhimmitude, no Islam.
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12 comments:
We'll be at McDonald's at Main and Terminal st.s from 7-9 pm in Vancouver, Canada.
Please leave your location here if you're willing to take these steps to organise within your community.
Hi Dag, here is my latest post on the Blue Scarf movement.
At a day-to-day level Islam is a concern to Europeans far more intensely than it is for Americans. American faces a crime problem in Islam whereas Europe faces cultural eclipse and eventual annihilation.
One of the main emphases here is to explore in great detail the nature of Left dhimmi fascism in the West generally, and that means we must look to the future of America as a Left swamp if we allow ourselves to continue to to breach our cultural defences by supporting Muslims as proxies in the war against Modernity.
To make this plain and succinct, the problem isn't so much Islam, in my view, as is the Left dhimmi fascism that supports it as a battering ram to destroy Modernity. I see Islam as only one more weapon used by the Left fascists to fight against Modernity. If not Muslims, then Latino drug gangs or some other barbarian force the Left fascists can hire and hope to control.
So, though the Islamic threat is not as pervasive in America as it is in Europe the threat of Left fascism is still great, and we must combat it in it's myriad forms.
I urge that we continue to struggle against Islam whole-heartedly while keeping in mind that this is only a proxy. Our real enemy is the Left fascist collectivist. We can fight them by fighting Islam.
If we can turn the average thinking American against the dhimmitude we accept as a matter of multi-cultural course today, then tomorrow we might turn them against the other aspects of Left dhimmi fascism. No Islmaic appeasement today will steel us for no Latino drug-gangsterism tomorrow. The habit of mind and the course of culture will follow the path to Modernity if we start with one goal and achieve it. Today we smash Islam, next we pick up on the next. It requires a revolution of attitude. That's the point of our Blue Revolution meetings. We must gain experience in the field, and we must join in our face to face meetings to make reality from the Internet.
We have to be public, and that means that those who meet have crossed from passivity and concern to activity and determination. From that we will know who we are in practice. We will have the confidence in each other that we need to make real results in our further actions. Not a letter to the editor but a man or woman who will march into the senators office and make a demand and will not leave til it's met. How? because there will be a thousand people behind her or him, waiting in the street for an answer. There will be active and committed people one can see in the flesh, people who will take the time and effort to make their will dominant in society.
We will meet these people by going to coffee shops and meeting them when they take control of their own lives and make thier desires real by their own efforts. Once people have a sense of their own strength, then the world will listen and do their bidding. It starts with a few meeting in McD. and talking. Political power is boots on streets. If we want, then we will get.
A fine statement Dag. Perhaps tomorrow we can discuss the nature of the modernity the left Dhimmi fascists would destroy and why they feel compelled to destroy it.
eyesallaround,
So what if islam is not in the same stage of progression in the United States? Islam has evidently suceeded in limiting speech in the United States, as still few in the US press dare print a few drawings of mohamhead. And your platitudes concerning our armed populace seem meaningless to me when one considers all other of the now unused tools that avail themself to the defence of our liberties. The Danish and the French recent defense of free speech, in comparison to our own apparant dhimmitude should shame us.
Almost forgot, Pilgrim, myself, and anyone else who wants to come wil be at Hooter's Brook Highland 7pm Thurs.
Muslim Bites Dog
by Ann Coulter
Posted Feb 15, 2006
The amazing part of the great Danish cartoon caper isn't that Muslims immediately engage in acts of mob violence when things don't go their way. That is de rigueur for the Religion of Peace. Their immediate response to all bad news is mass violence. That's a "dog bites man" story and belongs on page B-34, next to the grade school hot lunch menu and the birth notices.
After an Egyptian ferry capsized recently, killing hundreds of passengers, a whole braying mob of passengers' relatives staged an organized attack on the company, throwing furniture out the window and burning the building to the ground. Witnesses say it was the most violent ocean liner-related incident since Carnival Cruise Lines fired Kathie Lee Gifford.
The "offense to Islam" ruse is merely an excuse for Muslims to revert to their default mode: rioting and setting things on fire. These people have a serious anger management problem.
So it's not exactly a scoop that Muslims are engaging in violence. A front-page story would be "Offended Muslims Remain Calm."
What is stunning about this spectacle is that their violence is working. With a few exceptions, the media won't show the cartoons that incited mass violence around the globe (see the full gallery below). And yet, week after week, American patriots endure "The Boondocks" without complaint. Where's the justice here?
Perhaps we could put aside our national, ongoing, post-9/11 Muslim butt-kissing contest and get on with the business at hand: Bombing Syria back to the stone age and then permanently disarming Iran.
The mass violence by Muslims over some cartoons reminds us why we have to worry when countries like Iran start talking about having nukes. Iran is led by a lunatic who makes a big point of denying the Holocaust. Indeed, in response to the Muhammad cartoons, one Iranian newspaper is soliciting cartoons about the Holocaust. (So far the only submissions have come from Ted Rall, Garry Trudeau and The New York Times.)
Iran is certainly implying that it has nukes. Maybe they do, maybe they don't, but you can't take chances with berserk psychotics. What if they start having one of these bipolar episodes with a nuclear bomb?
If you don't want to get shot by the police, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, then don't point a toy gun at them. Or, as I believe our motto should be after 9/11: Jihad monkey talks tough; jihad monkey takes the consequences. Sorry, I realize that's offensive. How about "camel jockey"? What? Now what'd I say? Boy, you tent merchants sure are touchy. Grow up, would you?
In addition, I believe we are legally required to be bombing Syria right now. And unlike the Koran's alleged prohibition on depictions of Muhammad, I've got documentation to back that up!
Muslims in Syria torched the Danish Embassy a few weeks ago, burning it to the ground. According to everyone, the Syrian government was behind the attack -- the prime minister of Denmark, Condoleezza Rice and White House spokesman Scott McClellan. I think even the gals on "The View" have acknowledged that Damascus was behind this one.
McClellan said: "We will hold Syria responsible for such violent demonstrations since they do not take place in that country without government knowledge and support."
We are signatories to a treaty that requires us to do more than "hold Syria responsible" for this attack. Syria has staged a state-sponsored attack on our NATO partner on Danish soil, the Danish embassy. According to the terms of the NATO treaty, the United States and most of Europe have an obligation to go to war with Syria.
Or is NATO -- like the conventions of civilized behavior, personal hygiene and grooming -- inapplicable when Muslims are involved? Liberals complain about "unilateral action," but under the terms of a treaty created by Dean Acheson and the Democrats, France, Germany, Spain and Greece are all obliged to go to war with us against Syria. Why, it's almost like a coalition! OK, Mr. Commie: Saddle up!
Hi, anyone may feel free to print and distribute this if they like.
Lost Verses of the Koran
Surah 115: The Pig
Bismillah:
The hurried flight of the Hegira had led the Muslims to a fertile oasis, where they were at last safe from their many enemies in Mecca.
Pausing, each thanked Allah the moon-god for their good fortune.
Assembling at a long table, they enjoyed rare delicacies brought by bare-breasted sirens whose faces were veiled. During the feast Muhammad sternly forbade his disciples to partake of pig flesh, while fondling the youthful breasts of a Nubian girl named Sheba.
Obeying the Prophet, the pilgrims partook of the succulent flesh of jackals and vultures, washing their food down with strong wine.
“I never dreamed I’d have to eat the loins of a jackal, let alone the bitter entrails of a cursed vulture,” observed a hungry pilgrim named Ahmed to a fellow Muslim, choking on the unpalatable morsels.
“Neither did I, but the Holy Prophet has ordered it,” grumbled another starving follower, almost heaving as he consumed greasy vulture flesh.
“A rancid pork chop would taste a hell of a lot better than this crap does,” retorted Ahmed.
“It’s an acquired taste brother, you’ll get used to it,” spoke up another, smiling with a mouthful of rotten teeth.
“I don’t think so,” said Ahmed, forcing down a burned jackal testicle.
An uncaring Muhammad, famished, greedily wolfed down roasted jackal in enjoyment, quaffing from an earthenware wine carafe on occasion, while choosing which of the sirens that would soon endure his favors.
The meal finished in the late afternoon, a drunken, lustful Muhammad initiated a sex orgy with the sirens, the debauched Holy Prophet, Allah speaking through him, declaring all earlier betrothals or marriages of the women he knew null and void.
The Muslims celebrated their good fortune, again thanking Allah for the bounty they had been blessed to receive.
Later, as Muhammad sat half-naked under a palm tree, masturbating to the thought of molesting little girls, Ahmed chanced by and remarked, "Oh great prophet, why does Allah say that we cannot dine on delicious porcine flesh?"
"Why?" asked Muhammad, closing his filthy, tattered, moth-eaten robe, "Because Allah's younger retarded cyclops brother is a pig, and Allah doesn't want us killing his holy kinfolk."
"Allah is a pig?" asked Ahmed, staring at Muhammad.
"Of course," replied the deranged Prophet, hallucinating thanks to ingesting strong hashish minutes earlier.
"That's ridiculous, why in hell do we worship pigs?" asked Ahmed, thinking his flight from Mecca may have been the result of heeding the words of a false prophet, possessed of a capricious desert demon who delighted in seeing them consume the flesh of vermin.
"Because they're better than we are," answered a smiling Muhammad, now fantasizing about raping little boys, "Look at me, I'm little more than a lecherous child molester, thief and murderer!"
"True, but pigs can't even talk!" exclaimed Ahmed, digging a heel into the sand.
"Allah can, he speaks to me in my dreams," retorted the wildly hallucinating Muhammad, barely able to focus on Ahmed, seeing him in double vision.
"You're a madman," declared a disgusted Ahmed, "I'm heading back to join the infidels in Mecca!"
"Who cares?" retorted Muhammad, slurring his words and breaking into riotous laughter.
Prophet Muhammad, opening his robe and again reaching for his flaccid sex organ, was too occupied with masturbating his building erection to reply further, while Ahmed disappeared behind a sand dune.
"What a stupid, perverted, licentious bastard," spat Ahmed, walking off, "Muhammad is crazier than a shithouse rat!"
Surah 116: The Pervert
Bismillah:
And it came to pass that Muhammad was growing ever hornier and more depraved: In a dream it was revealed by Allah that he was to molest a young girl named Ayesha.
Drunk on strong wine, the Prophet looked to a follower named Khalil and announced, “Allah has said I am to have sex on this day with a child; the virgin daughter of my brother in law Abu.”
“What?” asked a frowning Khalil, holding a wine bottle, taken back by the remark and turning to Muhammad.
“I am to know Abu’s daughter Ayesha,” declared Muhammad, a finger in the air, becoming visibly aroused at the thought having sex with her.
“She is but a little girl who plays with dolls; her womb does not yet weep, are you insane?” asked Khalil, knowing in his heart that the Prophet was little more than a pervert, thief, liar and murderer.
“Probably, but it is the will of Allah”, Muhammad said to himself, staggering off to the hovel of Ayesha.
“What a twisted devil the Prophet is – the will of Allah my ass, he’s just an evil, depraved monster who lusts after the flesh,” Khalil mumbled, putting the bottle to his parched lips.
An oblivious and uncaring Muhammad blundered down the street, weaving as he went, arriving at the hovel shortly thereafter.
Knocking on the door, Ayesha’s mother Umm appeared.
“What do you want Prophet?” she asked, staring at the debauched Muhammad, clad in a filthy tan robe covered in dust and wine stains, a lone flea crawling upon his moustache near his nostrils.
“Bismillah, I am here to take your daughter Ayesha in bed,” the Prophet answered, slurring his words.
“You licentious beast!” exclaimed the girl’s mother, “She is only six years old, if it is indeed the will of Allah, take me instead to satisfy your wanton depravity!”
“Taking you is not the will of Allah,” retorted Muhammad, the scent of wine heavy on his foul breath, “You are a wrinkled and faded flower without comeliness; be gone with your favors; I could never get a hard on at the likes of you.”
Enraged by her rebuff, Muhammad smote her upon the face with a backhand.
“That’s what one gets for disobeying the will of Allah,” declared Muhammad, his words punctuated by a loud belch, “Take me to Ayesha, that I may know her on this day!”
Obeying, Umm reluctantly led Muhammad to the room of Ayesha, opening the door.
“This perverted Prophet here wants to screw you,” announced Umm with a frown, Muhammad ogling the virgin child in double vision.
“But you knew my cousin Abdullah, younger brother of Ahmed not an hour ago,” replied a shocked Ayesha, dropping her doll, revolted by the sight of the filthy, lascivious pedophile Muhammad.
“Be that as it may, Allah has said I will also know you,” said Muhammad with an expectant smile, the gleam of lust in his eyes.
“Why me?” asked Ayesha, looking to the Prophet with trepidation.
“Because Allah has said it and I am horny, let us lay down, that I may know you,” ordered Muhammad as he removed his robe, Ayesha’s mother shaking her head in helpless disgust and closing the door.
Surah 117: The Murderer
Bismillah:
Muhammad and his followers enjoyed many days away from Mecca at the oasis, home of his oafish brother in law, Abu Bakr, who was also Muslim.
Dining on roast jackal, vultures and snakes, their strength was renewed by the bounty Allah the moon-god provided: plentiful food for their bellies and plentiful sirens for their carnal pleasure.
Khalil was upset that the Prophet was an evil lecherous pedophile who had known a little girl, so he went to the home of Ayesha to speak with her father, Abu the oaf.
He made his way to the hovel, and knocked on the door.
Ayesha’s mother opened the door, frowning as she beheld another of Prophet Muhammad’s followers.
“Is life not bad enough, what are you here for, to rape my daughter, me, or one of my sons?” she inquired with disdain.
“Indeed not woman, I must speak with your husband, not you,” said Khalil, who as a good Muslim, looked down upon women as little more than objects of pleasure, or dogs to be beaten into submission.
“My husband Abu is very drunk,” she related, lowering her gaze in respect.
Khalil entering the hovel, the oaf Abu appeared from a side room holding a wine bottle, and slurred, “What do want here, follower of the Prophet?”
“I must speak with you regarding your little daughter Ayesha,” answered Khalil.
“What about her?” asked Abu, blinking his eyes and trying to focus on the man.
“The Prophet came unto her in her room a fortnight ago; do you not know?” asked Khalil.
“He has come unto her many times since, she is his wife,” replied the unconcerned oaf.
“His wife you say - you permitted it?” asked Khalil, stunned by the revelation.
“Of course; he has come unto one of my nephews too, Muhammad is a pederast, it is the will of Allah,” declared a shrugging Abu.
“He’s raping our child you drunken bastard!” exclaimed a tearful Umm, looking to Khalil.
Abu smote her across the face, admonishing, “Take care woman, speak not ill of Prophet Muhammad, it is the will of Allah. The Prophet first knew Ayesha in a dream, when Gabriel showed her to him, uncovering her body for him to see.”
“That’s really sick, she’s only six years old,” observed Khalil.
“Better for the great Prophet to know her than one of the infidels,” declared a smiling Abu.
“Prophet my ass, Muhammad is a depraved monster possessed of a demon; how could permit such a thing, you are her father!” exclaimed Khalil in utter disgust.
“Yes I am, and the Prophet says I will know her too,” confessed Abu, contemplating the odd thought of having sex with his own daughter.
Umm burst into tears and sobbed, throwing herself to the floor upon hearing Abu’s repugnant words.
A fearful Khalil fled the hovel, not knowing what to think; realizing Muhammad and his brother in law Abu were wicked licentious perverts and vicious rapers of children, possessed of capricious and malevolent demons.
Later, Abu spoke with the Prophet while they entered a brothel together. He told him of the strange encounter with Khalil.
Khalil’s an idiot, he takes Islam much too seriously,” replied Muhammad, looking to his oafish brother in law.
“It is a bad omen Prophet, Khalil woefully disdains your marriage to Ayesha, and disdains that I am to know her too,” declared Abu, even he feeling deep down that such a liaison was distasteful, but knowing it was the unalterable will of Allah, the moon god.
“It is the will of Allah for you to know your daughter, did not Lot of Sodom know his daughters in the cave?” asked a slurring Muhammad, quite drunk, leaning against a wall to steady himself.
“Yes Prophet, he did,” answered Abu with firm resolve.
“Indeed, it was and is Allah’s will,” replied Muhammad, picking a flea from his beard and crushing it between his fingernails, “As for our problem, I will have a dream tonight, and Allah will order me to kill Khalil.”
“He will?” asked Abu, putting a hand to his chin in confusion, “But I thought the Perfect, Most Merciful Pig Allah never revealed his intentions until you had a dream.”
“No matter oaf, he is making his will known to me by making me drink strong wine on this day,” said a quickly lying Muhammad, holding up a bottle.
“Don’t you drink strong wine everyday?” asked Abu.
“Not as strong as this stuff,” replied the Prophet with a broad smile, “It has hashish oil in it; let us partake of a pair of this brothel’s women and enjoy wine together.”
As Muhammad and Abu descended into more revelry and debauchery, a troubled Khalil approached another of the Prophet’s followers, the one with rotten teeth. Telling him of his woes, he awaited the reply.
“Who cares what he does, have vulture and some wine,” said the man, tearing a leg from a roasted, maggot-ridden carcass and offering it to Khalil.
“You don’t care that Muhammad is a deranged pervert who has sex with little children?” asked Khalil, taking the leg.
“Hell no, I’m only here for the food, I was starving in the alleys of Mecca before I met Muhammad,” replied the rotten toothed man, grabbing more vulture flesh and a wine bottle.
“Oh,” answered a defeated Khalil, taking a bite from the leg and reaching for wine.
Late evening came, with Khalil and the other followers drunk and passed out in their tent.
Muhammad and Abu awoke at the brothel after midnight, rested and refreshed.
“What are we to do about Khalil?” asked Abu as they left via a side door, avoiding an encounter with the brothel’s madam, to whom they owed money.
“Leave that to me oaf,” answered the Prophet, holding up a hand, “In my dream Allah told me how to deal with him.”
Muhammad headed down the street and stealthily entered the tent of his followers, intent on taking Khalil’s life. Abu Bakr followed him through the entrance, looking about for possible witnesses.
Holding an oiled leather garrote, the smiling Prophet mercilessly strangled the sleeping Khalil, knowing in his heart that it was the will of Allah.
The helpless follower struggled defiantly as a determined Muhammad gritted his teeth and pulled the garrote tighter, crushing Khalil’s windpipe, the Prophet letting out foul gas from his posterior due to the exertion. The struggling ceased; he and Abu then quietly removed the body from the tent and carried it into the desert.
“That takes care of that problem,” declared a satisfied Muhammad as he pocketed the garrote, he and Abu making their way to his hovel so he could know his young wife Ayesha again.
“When will I know her Prophet?” inquired Abu in the lamplit hovel, looking to his daughter’s room.
“Very soon, Allah has said it, go know your wife Umm for now, oaf,” suggested Muhammad with a smile, opening the door to Ayesha’s room.
Surah 118: The Liar
Bismillah:
Time passed, and a strengthened Muhammad and his followers left the fertile oasis. The Prophet was joined by his young wife Ayesha and her father, oaf Abu, who left the remainder of his family stranded at the oasis, his wife Umm dying of grief shortly afterward.
Not one of the party dared question the vanishing of Khalil, some fearing that they too would vanish, perhaps due to Allah’s will or worse.
Muhammad told his followers that Khalil was an evil infidel, and had fled because he had coveted Ayesha, the child looking to her husband the Prophet, she and her father knowing he was not telling the truth.
“That is not true my father, Khalil only came to tell you of the Prophet knowing me,” Ayesha whispered, she and Abu standing only a few cubits from Muhammad.
“Take care in what you utter among others child, some things are better kept to oneself,” answered Abu quietly, not half the oaf the Prophet thought he was.
The rotten toothed man was listening intently; he had watched from the shadows while a smiling Muhammad strangled Khalil, but wisely kept this knowledge to himself, vowing to flee the group at the earliest opportunity.
Abu Bakr, fulfilling the will of Allah, came unto his daughter Ayesha over several evenings in a tent at the beckoning of the Holy Prophet, oddly finding her favors more satisfying than those of his wife.
Feeling strange from the experience of knowing his own daughter, a troubled Abu sought wise Muhammad’s advice.
“It was the will of Allah,” declared the debauched Muhammad, drunk on strong wine, “Allah has also revealed it is you which will sire her firstborn in her twelfth year; her incestuous bastard child Fatimah.”
“I will?” asked Abu, incredulous that he would be siring a child by his own daughter.
“Yes,” replied the Prophet, removing his filthy robe, “But first I must satisfy my carnal urges, by indulging in her favors myself.”
Prophet Muhammad entered the tent and came unto the young Ayesha, who complained that she was sore from knowing her father three times in one day.
Striking her across the face, Muhammad admonished, “Keep your mouth shut wife and be thankful to Allah that only I and your father are knowing you.”
“Yes Holy Prophet,” Ayesha replied, closing her eyes and wincing in pain as Muhammad again knew her.
Arriving in Medina the following week, the Muslims found friends in this city, delighting in drunken revelry and the favors of veiled, tempting harlots with dark eyes.
A lecherous Muhammad, Ayesha and his brother in law Abu took up residence at a fine brothel, the Prophet and the oaf sampling the offerings over many weeks, finding that Medina had the finest of all harlots in the land.
Many residents of Medina found that Islam was a faith that appealed to them, Allah’s unalterable will moving the people, they abandoning their staid ways, joining with Prophet Muhammad in idleness, licentious revelry and drunkenness.
Abu later visited the Prophet in his tent, informing him of dreadful news that Medina was host to a band of Jews.
“Jews you say, the people of the book,” answered Muhammad, “They are bitter enemies of Allah and Islam; we will not suffer such people to live in our midst.”
“But there are 40 score or more of them in the city Prophet, do the warriors of Allah have the numbers to defeat them?” asked Abu.
“Of course oaf,” declared the evil Muhammad, “We shall wait until the dark of night, prowling by stealth, and then cut their throats as they slumber; Allah has willed it.”
Listening in the shadows, the rotten toothed man determined it was time for him to flee. Regardless of the free food, he wanted no part of a group of vicious, skulking cowards who would slaughter people as they slept.
Allah’s will was fulfilled on the next night, 40 score Jews meeting their end at the hands of the deranged, murderous pedophile Muhammad and his obedient Muslims.
Surah 119: The Thief
Bismillah:
A fortnight passed, with many of the remaining people of Medina embracing Islam, and others fleeing for their lives, with the exception of a wealthy merchant named Sabri and his family.
Sabri vexed the followers with his words that Prophet Muhammad was little more than a drunken liar, murderer, and wanton sexual pervert; a wicked, lascivious monster and pedophile who kept the company of prostitutes, drunks and the slothful.
In another dream, the Holy Prophet learned that the vexing merchant had to be silenced, and that he had been chosen by Allah to murder him.
Telling Abu of his dream, he and Abu plotted the murder of Sabri the merchant. After enjoying strong wine together, they headed to his home on a dark late evening, let in by a lovely servant girl.
Muhammad and the oaf Abu observed the opulence of his residence; Sabri dressed in a fine silk robe with a silk turban, seven rings of gold and silver on his fingers.
His wife and the lovely servant girl brought food and a carafe of wine for her husband, they disdainfully looking upon the filthy, debauched Prophet and his henchman Abu.
“Why will you not submit to Islam, it is the will of Allah,” declared the evil Muhammad, looking to Sabri, looking for the chance to end his life.
“The will of Allah my ass, you Muhammad are a murderous debauched lecher and raper of children. Your loathsome followers feed on the rancid flesh of vermin instead of fine pork roasts, and defile all that they touch,” declared a disgusted Sabri, noting that the Prophet was drunk, dressed in a filthy tattered robe, with his unkempt hair and long beard matted with dirt.
“I consume the flesh of vermin too, Great Allah is a Holy, Merciful Pig, it is not halal to dine on the sacred flesh of his younger brothers,” said Muhammad with a finger in the air, Abu nodding in agreement.
“No, it is you who are a pig, you deranged cretin possessed of a vile demon,” retorted Sabri, looking upon the Prophet with hatred in his eyes.
“Those who do not submit to the will of Allah will suffer dire consequences,” threatened Abu, looking about for anyone who would dare stop them. Observing only two women in the house, he smiled, knowing that the will of Allah was about to be fulfilled.
Sabri paused, staring at the Prophet and Abu in contempt, hoping he could in some way persuade them to leave the city, noting that business had fallen off to practically nothing since the arrival of the Muslims.
“Look, if I give you money, will you and yours flee Medina and never return?” asked Sabri with folded hands, hoping he could encourage them to leave with a payment of fine gold.
“I can’t leave,” declared a smiling Muhammad, “I am serving Great Allah, the Most Merciful Pig.”
Sabri, confused for a moment, replied, “But I thought Allah was the moon goddess of Mecca.”
“Whatever,” retorted a shrugging, uncaring Muhammad while picking his nose, he knowing that Allah didn’t exist anyway.
“You are destroying Medina with your vile harlotry and wicked ways!” exclaimed Sabri.
The Prophet laughed, and replied, “Indeed not, Allah is guiding my hand in this and all my actions, providing me and my followers with what we desire: food, fine drink and the company of willing sirens, like your lovely servant girl back there.”
“My servant girl is betrothed to a good man in Mecca, you will not speak ill of her, nor will you covet her favors,” declared Sabri, noting Muhammad leering through an open door, ogling the girl and his wife.
“I will do as I wish,” retorted the evil Muhammad with another laugh, reaching into his tattered, filthy robe and producing the garrote, “I covet the favors of your servant girl, and will take her to my bed for a concubine on this night. Those such as you will not stop the will of Allah or his Messenger.”
Abu rose while the Prophet was speaking and smote Sabri upon the face with a closed fist, knocking the silk turban from his head. Muhammad descended upon him like a viper, pulling the garrote tightly around his throat, strangling him in his chair while his wife and servant girl screamed.
“Be silent women, it is the will of Allah!” Muhammad yelled through gritted teeth as he took the life of Sabri. Oaf Abu moved into the room and beat them into submission while a struggling Sabri kicked the wine carafe from the table, it shattering on the floor.
Sabri’s life vanquished, Prophet Muhammad exhaled loudly and let the lifeless body tumble to the floor.
The trembling women remained silent as Abu returned to the Prophet with them.
“Where is your money?” asked a greedy Abu of Sabri’s wife.
“A box of gold and silver is in our bedroom,” answered his tearful wife, almost fainting from Abu’s foul breath.
“I’ll get it,” volunteered a smiling Muhammad, pulling the garrote from the body, “Get the rings from his fingers oaf.”
The Prophet returned with a box of glittering coins, pleased that Allah had provided such bounty for his followers.
“I can’t get the last ring off,” complained Abu, having pocketed six others.
“Cut off his finger to get it, and take his robe and turban too,” ordered Muhammad, determined not to leave one valuable item in the house.
Abu obeyed, reaching for a knife on the table, slicing off the finger and pulling the ring from it.
Arriving at the brothel, the Prophet celebrated his good fortune by knowing Sabri’s wife and the servant girl, annulling the widow’s marriage and the girl’s betrothal in the eyes of Allah.
Later that evening Abu was given Sabri’s widow for a concubine, as he had grown weary of Ayesha’s favors, also needing an able slave to cook and serve him.
Having to beat her before he knew her, Abu thanked Allah and Muhammad for the welcome gift of Sabri’s wife.
Surah 120: The Hypocrite
Bismillah:
More time passed, with some of Muhammad’s followers finding the Prophet’s actions in Medina going against everything he had preached in Mecca, seeing him as Khalil, the rotten toothed man, and the merchant Sabri had seen him: an evil, debauched rapist, pedophile, liar, and murderer.
These and other apostate followers were quickly slaughtered as infidels, fulfilling the will of Allah; a smiling Muhammad strangling many of them as they slept.
Even Abu began to think that Muhammad’s wanton depravity may have been going too far when he encountered him in a tent knowing several young Jewish boys that had been taken captive.
“Prophet, some of the followers are complaining that you are denying them participation in the bounty given us by Allah, and that you are also practicing strange acts that Allah has forbidden to others,” related Abu, frowning at the displeasing thought of Muhammad knowing little boys.
“They want some of the gold, right oaf?” asked a drunken Muhammad, dressed in Sabri’s silk robe and turban, seven rings of gold and silver upon his greasy fingers, the fine garb growing filthier with each passing day.
“That, and some of them would also like to have some of the girls and boys for concubines,” answered Abu.
“They cannot have the little boys, Allah has given them to me for my carnal pleasure,” declared the lascivious Prophet, “As for the little girls, give them to the followers as wives, so that their carnal desires can be sated; it is the will of Allah.”
“Others say that you don’t practice what you have preached,” added a fidgeting Abu, hoping not to arouse Muhammad’s maniacal wrath.
“I’m only the messenger, Allah’s revelations don’t apply to me,” retorted Muhammad, releasing a tearful Jewish boy from his carnal embrace.
“What about me?” asked Abu.
“They don’t apply to you either oaf; would you like a lovely little boy for your carnal pleasure?” slurred the depraved sodomite Muhammad, lustfully leering at another boy he had chosen next to debauch.
“No, I find not that boys appeal to me,” answered Abu quietly, though he was a lecherous pedophile and incestuous pervert, he had no desire to sodomize little boys.
“Suit yourself oaf, more for me to enjoy,” answered the Prophet with a chuckle, undressing another captive boy, returning to his lecherous pederasty as Abu left the tent.
The city of Medina had been taken completely by the conquering Muslims, they reveling in their murderous victory over the infidels and Jews.
In another dream, it was revealed to Muhammad by Allah that they were to attack and conquer the city of Mecca. They were to subdue it and convert the inhabitants there to Islam, after which the Prophet was to take a pagan shrine called the Kaaba and defile it in the name of Allah.
“In Mecca there is glittering plunder, fine gold to steal, and many women to be taken for concubines,” declared the Prophet, “Allah has said to have faith in him and we will not fail; are you with me, warriors for Islam?”
The devoted followers answered, shouting in unison: There is no god but Allah the Pig, and Muhammad is his prophet!”
“We will need weapons to defeat them,” Abu observed, looking to the Holy Prophet.
“Easily done oaf,” replied an unconcerned Muhammad, ordering several henchmen to plunder the city of metal so weapons could be quickly fashioned.
Bronze implements were seized from every home; plowshares were heated and beaten into fine scimitars for the devoted followers.
As his followers labored over hot forges, Muhammad gave a sermon, declaring that vengeance, blood and death would rain down upon Mecca in the name of Allah.
The work completed over several days, a feast was held by the warriors of Islam to further strengthen them for the long journey; the flesh of rats, snakes, vultures and jackals gracing their tables. The hungry Prophet had a willing siren prepare his favorite of all dishes, fat dung beetles boiled in seasoned vulture broth.
“We should give Allah our thanks for the bounty he has provided,” declared Muhammad, seated at the head of his table beside Abu, crushing the hard shell of a dung beetle between his filthy brown teeth.
All bowed their heads in prayer, thanking Allah for the food he had provided.
“Would you like to enjoy a tasty dung beetle oaf?” asked the Prophet, turning to his brother in law, offering one to him.
“No thanks,” replied a nauseated Abu, choking down a plateful of greasy rat flesh.
Washing the unseemly morsels down with strong wine, Muhammad and his followers filled their bellies with the bitter flesh of vermin and then enjoyed the welcome favors of tempting, veiled harlots with dark eyes.
The Muslims, their women and their captives set out for Mecca on the following week, determined to exact Allah’s revenge on the people who dwelt there.
“There are many able men in Mecca, much more than we have,” observed Abu, realizing their numbers were wanting when compared to the teeming hordes of infidels occupying Mecca.
“Allah will watch over us oaf,” replied Muhammad, a sharp scimitar on his hip, he unsure as to what the outcome would be, but keeping this from the others and preparing for the worst.
“There aren’t enough of us Prophet – how will we win?” asked Abu with his arms in the air, looking at their limited numbers, no more than 50 score of able men in the service of Allah.
“Great Allah has said it, they in Mecca will embrace Islam or die for resisting his will,” the vengeful Prophet declared as Medina disappeared behind them in the distance.
A thoughtful Abu wondered why Allah would wish his followers to attack a fortified city where they were outnumbered, and also as to why Allah would have chosen a debauched murderer and licentious pervert for his Prophet.
“Oh well, it is the will of Allah,” agreed a sardonic Abu, much too committed to the deranged Prophet and Islam to back out, checking for the scimitar on his hip.
Surah 121: The Coward
Bismillah:
Returning to the oasis to gather strength before attacking Mecca, Muhammad and his followers again feasted on the bitter flesh of vermin and partook of the favors of eager women, the depraved Prophet coming unto the veiled, bare breasted Nubian harlot Sheba.
Oaf Abu learned that his wife Umm had died, Muhammad stating to him over strong wine that it was Allah’s will.
A grieving Abu came unto his new wife, the widow of Sabri, and also knew his daughter Ayesha, fulfilling the will of Allah the Pig.
The Holy Prophet also lusted for Abu’s bride, demanding that he be permitted to lay with her again.
A shrugging Abu handed her over, an angry Muhammad having to beat the stiff-necked infidel woman once again before he knew her.
“You evil murderous beast!” she screamed in tears as Muhammad was knowing her, “May the gods of my fathers destroy you and all you have wrought!”
“How dare you attempt to curse me or Allah,” grunted the Prophet as he reached orgasm, his fetid breath causing her to heave, “Take care woman, or I will expose you as the sorceress you are, giving you over to be stoned by my devoted followers.”
“Better to be dead than to endure your vile attentions again,” Abu’s wife retorted as the Prophet rose from her bed.
“Bitch,” Muhammad muttered as he left Abu’s tent, adjusting his filthy silk turban.
Leaving the oasis on the third day, the devoted Muslims resumed their journey to Mecca, Abu still troubled about their limited numbers and telling the Holy Prophet of his doubts.
“Don’t worry oaf, we will remain behind while the first wave of our brothers besiege and subdue the infidels in Mecca,” Muhammad declared in a low tone of voice, Ayesha looking up to him and frowning.
“Do you have a problem with that wife?” asked Muhammad, strangely controlling his compulsion to beat her for daring to disagree with Allah’s unalterable will.
Ayesha remained silent and looked to the ground, Abu answering, “I thought we would lead them in battle.”
“No, we are to remain behind and observe the followers take the city, it is the will of Allah,” replied Muhammad, he filled with doubts and preferring to watch from afar, as the strong hashish he had eaten in Medina had worn off long ago.
Arriving outside the city walls under cover of night, the Muslims prepared for battle in the only way they knew: skulking by stealth and murdering defenseless people while they slept.
As a full moon rose, a vanguard of devoted followers scaled the city walls, only to be discovered and cut down by the defenders of Mecca.
“Attack in the name of Allah!” shouted Muhammad while retreating to a bluff with Abu, his wives and several trusted followers, the Meccans opening the city gates to meet the glorious warriors of Allah in battle.
Seeing the Holy Prophet on the bluff by moonlight, this sight strengthened the attacking Muslims.
“The battle is not going very well,” observed Abu as the moon rose higher, watching the Muslim army being wiped out.
“Yes, Allah is displeased that our faith was not strong enough,” replied a strangely detached Muhammad, staring from the bluff at the carnage outside the walls of Mecca.
“That, or we didn’t have enough men, I told you,” retorted Abu, watching several followers being hacked to death by the defenders.
“That is possible oaf,” admitted Muhammad, Abu frowning at the reply.
“What do you plan to do to save your followers Prophet?” asked Ayesha.
“Nothing, it is Allah’s will,” replied Muhammad with a shrug, still watching the battle.
Abu’s frown grew into anger as he watched a smiling Muhammad delight in the butchery of his followers.
“You’ve lost at least 30 score since the moon rose, do you intend to stay until we are slaughtered too?” asked Abu’s wife.
“How dare you speak to me unless spoken to!” exclaimed the Prophet, preparing to smite her across the face.
“My good wife Fahimah makes a wise observation,” declared Abu, using her given name for the first time, grasping Muhammad’s forearm, preventing him from striking the widow.
Pulling away from Abu, the Prophet paused and replied, “It’s time for us to leave oaf, we shall retreat to the oasis to pray and fast.”
A defeated Muhammad and his trusted followers left the bluff and headed back toward the oasis in the moonlight. Looking over his shoulder, the Prophet feared that vengeful Meccans might pursue them.
“Let us make haste,” declared Muhammad, fearing for his life.
Several days passed as they retreated from Mecca, the remaining band of Muslims at last pausing for needed rest and making a camp in the desert.
The captive Fahimah had grown to respect her new husband Abu, as he had prevented the Holy Prophet from striking her outside the walls of Mecca. Making him a meal of jackal flesh soup, she presented it to him in his tent.
“Thank you woman,” Abu replied, taking an earthenware bowl and strong wine, she nodding and leaving him to eat.
As Abu was eating, a stir rose in the camp: a lone survivor of the battle having at last caught up to the followers. Putting down his bowl, he left the tent to find the survivor admonishing Muhammad.
“You coward,” he gasped, “You left us to die, have you no faith in your visions, or are they only lies coming from your vile mouth?”
The Prophet, drunk, answered, “I had a dream after the battle, it was Allah’s will that we were defeated, as it was his will that you survived. We lost because our faith in Allah was not strong enough.”
“You lied, telling us of easy plunder and women; there weren’t enough of us to take Mecca, 50 score died outside the gates for nothing!” the man exclaimed.
“No matter, have dung beetles and strong wine to renew your strength,” slurred Muhammad, picking fleas from his beard and flinging them into a small fire at his side.
The man, much too exhausted to argue further, gratefully took a plate of boiled dung beetles and a bottle of wine, trudging off from the deranged Prophet in disgust.
A shocked Abu observed this from the shadows and retreated to his tent. Such knowledge set heavy upon him, he meditating privately on the events.
Finishing his meal, he called for his wife Fahimah, she appearing before him.
I would hear your words wife on this matter: Muhammad preaches Islam, yet he does not follow the words of Allah.”
“He is your Prophet, you have sworn to serve him and Allah, my words are those of an infidel,” she answered respectfully.
“Still I would hear them, for there is wisdom in what you utter,” Abu replied.
Fahimah, still fearful of her brutal husband, yet bound by her personal honor to obey, told him of her thoughts on the Prophet and his actions.
“I care not what god he worships, but this demon in man’s guise is not a prophet of a clean desert god,” she began.
Abu looked at her as she continued, “He forces his followers to consume the flesh of vermin, delighting in their disgust. I truly believe him to be so perverted as to rape an infant - he has others carry out his murderous work while he has no courage to fight himself: you should draw a knife across your daughter Ayesha’s throat and my own to save us from the corruption of this man.”
Abu, oaf that he was, looked at her silently as she urged him to destroy the demon Prophet Muhammad, her wise words much harder to ignore than the screechings of his deceased wife Umm.
Most of us have collections of Qur'ans, ahadith, and siras; we know the technicalities of fiqh better than most Muslims, and the history of jihad is memorized more often among our lot than is the Qur'an in Pakistani madrassas. However, European Patriot has added some detail to the comments section that wouldn't have been there otherwise, and for that I give thanks. The particular sura above is something remarkable, though, even for we who are somewhat scholarly and diligent in our pursuit of truth. It is a rare occasion to find something like the sura above unknown to us previously. So, for all our pretentions we find ourselves humbled, and the better for it.
I'm now left wondering if our European friends will show up on the streets in support of their nations. My guess is that yes, they will. I look forward to all accounts.
As we see from the newly revealed sura as well as our more standard readings we are dealing with people who have a world-view at odds with our own, and theirs is one based on triumphalism and violence. We cannot take them lightly.
"The Pig." Well, I never!
Mara provides a good counter to the dhimmi idiocy we live with, idiocy in the original Greek sense of idiotes, the sense of those who care nothing for and do nothing for their communities. We know what we must do, and the obviousness of it is embarassing. We live in a faddish time of idiocy as social acitivism, of doing nothing as doing the best. I cringe. I also take hope from Mara's contribution in that it seems to be a growing trend in public expression that we are not stupid, not passive, and not going to put up with rubbish from fools.
Our Blue Revolution meetings are a real step forward in making the public notice that things are changing for the better, that we are not going to remain passive and afraid of social approbation, of being slandered and libeled by a small minority of fools who have hijacked the public discourse and held us to ransom in their phantasy world of sentimentality. Some people are bad, and when they misbehave it's not our fault, it's the fault of the bad guy. And more, he deserves to be punished. When we can meet in public and openly declare that without hushing our voices from fear, then we are on the road to reclaiming civility and decency. Some might have to suffer. They will mostly be those who damn well deserve it. We must be able to say so in public.
Regarding our understanding of the motivations of others, of Americans generally, I suspect we do need further violence against us to shake the beliefs we hold as social beings. We cannot rush head-long into open rebellion against our culture even when it is as deplorable as it is today. we must talk and talk and talk till we have talked about it and come to the realisation that in so talking we have made a change simply by talking.
I refer to Tom Tancredo's openness about retaliation against Islam by nuking Mecca. The idea is broached. We have said it out loud, the unspeakable. And now we must discuss it further, prepare ourselves for the worst, and gradually bring around the nation and the world to the understanding that we can and will fight when we must. Our talk is necessary because it involves us as powerful in our nations, as participants in our democracies, as owners of our nations and our persons. We must speak openly and be known as people who have voices and opinions, and that our vioces will be heard and our opinions will be considered because we are nations of free men and women who have rights to participate in our destinies.
When we speak our minds and others listen, some of them might be our enemies, some spies and opportunists who will use our openness to subvert us. Our strength is that we also delegate our leadership to others who, having recieved their stewardship of our votes, are then independent of our wishes. When we speak and decide, we then elect our representatives to do what we wish, and as Sun Tsu writes, once the general has crossed the border, all power of decision "devolves" to him. The general does not raise up himself, our power goes down to him. But we must speak first. We must, before we decide our course of action, let our minds and wills be known. Then, having made our minds known, we msut step aside and let the general conduct the war on our behalves. there is no loss in our public debate. Our enemies can learn all we have to say, and all they will know is that we are willing to wage war to win.
I urge everyone to participate in our democracies by sitting with their fellows in public to discuss the nature of our struggles. It is democracy in action, and against that Islam is powerless. Our Left dhimmi fascsists cannot silence us if we refuse to be silent. And when we speak others will join us and say they have lived in fear too long. Now they have a chance to reclaim their voices. Who and what we decide to send to the world of Islam in response to the savageries they prepetrate will come from us when we have talked and talked and talked, and whatever it is it will be the will of the people, unshakable and unbreakable.
I support the French people in their struggle to keep their identity and their country, and their free speech, just as I support Denmark in its struggle, and all of the European countries who are being infested by radical Islamic terrorists.
Wearing a blue scarf here in South Louisiana though isn't so good an idea even in the winter months as our temps fluctuate between really cold and humidly hot. Besides I don't have a scarf, but i do have a blue hat. People here in Louisiana have an affinity for France. We have a unique culture here birthed by France, and forged through American history, the tough times and the even tougher times. Today's times may be the toughest yet for every nation.
I already talk about these issues with many friends in public and loudly, so I don't see why I can't at a Mcdonalds. Just so happens I go to my bi-weekly College Republican meeting tomorrow at 5pm.. Don't see why we cant all go to Mcd's after.:) I can tell them about the Blue Revolution.
It may seem a simple thing, but all one has to do is to look at the world today and to see the common threat to all the world's many cultures.. Islamic fundamentalism. Sadly some don't see it still, but more and more people are having their eyes opened.
Islamic fundamentalism is at war with all the world, all religions, all peoples not Muslim, and even people who are Muslim that don't accept sharia.
Britain, Iraq, The Phillipines, Sudan, Israel, India, Greece, Canada.
Germany, Thailand, Russia, China, Italy, United States, Poland, Turkey.
South Korea, Norway,Singapore, Lebanon,..
In every war/conflict currently being waged in the world, Islamic forces whether governmental or terrorists are fighting and targeting other religious groups, nations and peoples.
I know I have had enough of the terrorist attacks for years. Islamic terrorism should have been hunted all over the world and destroyed after the Munich massacres. That didnt happen tho and its grown into everyone's Cyclops. Unfortunately for the Cyclops, we ,who defy Islamofascism are Odysseus.
Johdarr
Johdarr, we all look forward to what transpires with your group at McD. That's just the thing to get this movement rolling.
You have friends at this blog in New Orleans who might join yu as well. Out out the word for them, as I will. We can connect over the coming period and form a united movement.
I know well the weather in N.O., having lived there for a year when I was young. If not a blue scarf, and that's arbitrary anyway, a blue hat or anything at all that will identify you to others of like mind. The point is that people can find you in a crowd. They can walk into a diner and know you're the one they wish to speak to.
It takes some courage. You have to wrestle with the fact that our enemies can spot you. But they don't really care who they attack. Practically, we're safer waving cartoons of Mohammed in public than we are riding a subway train in London.Let us know how it goes, and let us know further plans.
I have to admit that I have no Kantian obsession with telling the truth. This might surprise some readers here but the fact is that I have no more desire to insult people because of their religious beliefs than I do to tell them their children are ugly and stupid. It'd be an outrageous and dispicable thing to do, even if, perhaps especially if it were true. Islam is stupid and ugly, in my opnion and objectively, but person to person it's my view and one I feel perfectly happy to keep to myself at that level.
As eyesallaround points out, this goes far beyond the personal. Our relation to Islam isn't just me and him, you and her, us and them: Our relationship with Islam is one collective historical movement in opposition to another, and the individuals within each, people as they are, are amries of thought, and therefore just targets. It's injustice to ridicul a person's beliefs, but it is complete justice to assail his threat against us as expressed by an alien and violent ideological force. When religion goes beyond the individual and becomes a force of terror, then the man who holds that ideology is a target fair and simple.
Most Christians, I suspect, feel that the attack on Islam is prelude to attacking Christianity. Most Left dhimmi fascists see attacks on Islam as an attack on their pet project of "defending the weak and exploited." I see Islam as a full frontal attack on Modernity, on all the values we in the West, from Japan to London, hold as the pinnacle of Human good.I think most of us feel that we are not attacking Islam because we hate Muslims but are attcking Islam because it is harmful to our lives, our societies, our cultures, our nations, our very Modernist revolutions; and furthermore, Islam is an evil that destroys Muslims, an evil we should, and often do try to combat for the sake of those unfortunate enough to be born into it by accident of birth. It is a good thing to fight against this primitive form of fascism for the sake of preserving our good, and it is equally good that we extend our good to others. If we do so by attacking people's deeply held religious beliefs, so be it. They have to accept defeat and adapt to the world of others if they are to survive at all. We wouldn't be attacking them at all if there were no problem from them. Obviously there is, and we must face it responsibly. People get hurt, and there's nothing to be done for it but hget it over quickly for the benefit of all concerned.
Our intelligentsia fail us. We must carry this battle ourselves. We've done this before, successfully. We need look no further than 1770 and the men and women who wrote pamphlets in New England and who spoke in town squares. We are the successors of great revolutionaries, and we can acheive what they did in our time without the need of the majors.
We, Freinds of the People, have Common Sense.
Well said Dag! For those living in the northern Illinois area, we will be wearing our blue scarves and meeting at the McDonald's in Island Lake tonight between 7-8 PM. The Island Lake MCDonald's is on Rt 176/Liberty Street.
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