Saturday, 11 September 2010

Fire
with


Fire





Aw, shucks! The promise of immolated Korans is off, and no-one's more dismayed at the news than the masses of idle Muslims worldwide that have now been cheated out of their chance at murder, mayhem and martyrdom, all before the encouraging lens of the world media of course. Oh well, might as well riot anyway, many have decided. Being Friday, they were already dressed for jihad so why let an opportunity for outrage go unexploited? And since when did Islam ever let mere facts get in the way of a good rampage in the streets? Presumably Obama was able to convert Pastor Jones to his own philosophy of never doing what you say you'll do! Who knows – with a little more coaching he might even teach him to bow. Bowing, as the President knows, has all kinds of forms and gradations. Like Obama, Jones can bow to pressure, to power, to money, to fear, to ambition, to the right, to the left, to the Muslims, the Jews, and to, well, everyone. Keep bowing low enough and eventually you'll be bowing to the world's one true ruler, the devil himself. (Last known residence: Goldman Sachs, N.Y. City)
In fact, let's all give him a bow. For if as Jones warns, or used to warn, Islam is of the devil, then the devil, like the Lord, works in mysterious ways indeed. In squelching this fool of a pastor, all that they – the media, the White House, the Vatican (yes! the pope, too, is rushing to defend what he once called the "religion of compulsion" just a year or two after he himself was in its sights) – all that they have succeeded in doing is validating yet again the idea that Islam, alone among the world’s creeds, is exempt from all criticism, mockery, or perceived insult. Nice work, pastor. Take a bow, Devil!
It can’t go both ways: either Islam will keep spreading with its arrogant demands for respect, aka submission, or it must get used to the idea of being just one among the many other all-too-human belief syst-
ems on this war-weary old planet. As of now it is spreading like wildfire.











Salt On the Wound

Can grave Manhattan's hallowed craters heal,
Languishing in the shade of fiery zeal?
And must the phantom limbs of fallen towers,
Conjoin their anguish to the crescent power's?
Then no brave spirits have with us communed,
So pour, pour, pour your salt on the wound!


Shall Allah Akbar, war cry of 9-11,
Vie with our requiems for the ear of heaven?
And will Adhan, against the Church St. bell,
Strive to commemorate that day from hell?
Then Liberty's lyre has come untuned,
So pour, pour, pour your salt on the wound!






(On last night's Hollywood launch of its "Stand Up 2* Cancer" campaign)
What better place to promise cancer's end,
Than from the world capital of pretend!
*
kindergartner and ethno-American for "to"


Recent YouTube posts
Someday the American nightscape will mirror that of France, replete with roving gangs of illegals burning cars, assaulting civilians and battling the cops. How did it happen? people will ask. Treason, will be the reply, betrayal by the clerks.
A nation without borders is like a man without a skin,
B
leeding its strength away and letting infections in.

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