Friday, May 29, 2009

Laughing Matters And Crying Shames

Many of you are familiar with the insane radical Islamic cleric Omar Bhakri, whose rantings are to me akin to a bizarre comedy routine. If somebody was to do his schtick word for word at a comedy club, it would doubtless inspire as many charges of racism as laughter. Yet, he seems to purposely live his life as a character in a dark comedy movie, Borat with maybe a dash of Cohen Brothers thrown in for good measure.

Now, the same man who left Britain in the wake of that country's spate of terror attacks, the man who referred to the 9/11 hijackers as the "Magnificent Seventeen", and who some claim was the mastermind behind the riotous demonstrations over the Danish Mohammad cartoons, has now, it would seem, branched out into sci-fi. He just recently issued a proclamation that the galaxy itself should be converted to Islam, that those living on all worlds, in our solar system and beyond, should bow their knee to their creator Allah, and disavow any "man-made" system. Instead, he proclaims, they should embrace not just Islam, but his own malignant brand of it.

Seeing as how this guy has just been tried, in absentia, for terrorist activities and sentenced to death-in Lebanon of all places, where he has lived since his forced ouster from the UK-you would think he would have other things on his mind besides whether some alleged, theoretical alien races might be swayed to adopt Islam. Hell, he is unlikely to sway people in his own adopted country to spare him the rope-and its a hotbed of terrorism. Evidently, somebody forgot to clue this guy in on the difference between Shia's and Sunni's.

In the meantime, in between ranting and planning terrorist training camps, he has divorced his wife and married a woman younger than his daughter, while engaging in a diet for the purpose of fathering as many new children as possible-like the world really does need more of this guy. His first wife evidently had enough of him, electing to return to Britain, where she could at least wear make-up and feminine clothes in private, and leave home without a male escort.

His daughter as well seems to have had all she can stand of him, but at least managed to get enough money from him to get herself a boob job, ostensibly for the purpose of, to paraphrase, feel more like a mother while nursing her children. He went along with this, I am going to guess for the purpose of enhancing her prospects for attracting a man who would give him grandchildren. She and her Turkish husband had recently separated.

Instead, to the old man's horror, and eventual denial (claiming the story was a scurrilous attack on Islam), she landed a job as an exotic dancer, and sometime stripper.

You read it right, the daughter of one of the most radical Islamic Imams in the world today is a pole dancer.

Here is the pictorial page to a squatter's site in her name.

In the meantime, she, like her father before her, lives off of British welfare, according to one report to the tune of 300,000 pounds a year.

That's just the thing. It's easy to rant and rave about Islamic radicals and their rhetoric, which is all too often backed up by the blood-thirsty actions of low-level pawns who they themselves only encourage from a safe distance. Bhakri once even begged for re-admittance to Britain during the recent Israeli onslaught of Lebanon. Had he been granted a reprieve and allowed to return, is there any doubt he would have quickly resumed his old activities?

Yet, all too many like him are allowed not only to live amongst us, but are even subsidized to do so. It's the darkest of all comedy routines.


beamish said...

Talk about your stereotypical preacher's daughter story.

As far as converting the galaxy to Islam, prayers to the broken meteoric iron phallus enshrined in the corner of the Kabaa in Mecca must be carefully aimed. Even on Earth, you just can't face general directions and hope you bullseye the celestial sybian. An entire industry has popped up hawking GPS accurate Islamic prayer directions, so that Muslims on Earth can be reasonably sure their mouths of praise are accurately aligned with the godcock.

But leave Earth, and prayer trajectory takes on a new variable. Sure, it's easy to imagine the Earth's spherical surface as flat plane to determine which direction Mecca lies in. How do you do that on another planet?

Leave the solar system for another and then you run into relativistic troubles. Prayers emitted at the speed of sound must be carefully aimed so that they arrive on Earth at Mecca.

Let's say you're in the Alpha Centauri star system, and you're looking back at Earth through a ginormous telescope nearly 4 and a half light-years away. You'd have to factor in that your view of Earth is where Earth "was" 4.5 years ago, and then aim your prayer to hit Mecca (at the speed of prayer sound) where the Earth "will be" 880,000 years from prayer time.

Sounds like a lot of rigmarole to go through just to honor a broken dildo on another planet.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that perhaps Muhammad never though it possible for rock worshippers to achieve interstellar jihad.

The Pagan Temple said...

HaHa I call dibs on this. I might reprint this as a post. I'll give you credit for it, of course. Good stuff.