Over five years ago, I hammered this comment out on my beleaguered keyboard, after reading yet another report on Jihad Watch about yet another Mohammedan atrocity:
Okay, that's it. I'm done. I'm toast. This particular datum about Muslims, sitting here atop the veritable
mountain that is Jihad Watch reporting just part of the grotesquely
ghoulish ultra-violent psychotically fanatical Satanically deranged data
about Muslims around the world -- this particular datum here is the
last straw. I am no longer going to tolerate anti-jihad people who show the slightest signs of tolerance for Muslims.
Of course, that hasn't stopped the majority of civilians of the Counter-Jihad Mainstream to continue merrily on in their hypocritical incoherence, affecting to be oh so anti-Islam meanwhile telegraphing in various ways a perilous leniency for Muslims in general.
I.e., it's not my fault that my stance, on my knees in the sand before the Liberty Spikes cast adrift from our collective Western Ship of Fools as so much seawrack on the shore of this Planet of the Apes, has passed over from a tragicomedy to the third act of some Kafkaesque, off-off-Broadway-at-the-Y Ionesco play.
This particular datum about Muslims, sitting here atop the veritable mountain that is Jihad Watch reporting just part of the grotesquely ghoulish ultra-violent psychotically fanatical Satanically deranged data about Muslims around the world -- this particular datum here is the last straw.
I am no longer going to tolerate anti-jihad people who show the slightest signs of tolerance for Muslims.
Of course, that hasn't stopped the majority of civilians of the Counter-Jihad Mainstream to continue merrily on in their hypocritical incoherence, affecting to be oh so anti-Islam meanwhile telegraphing in various ways a perilous leniency for Muslims in general.
I.e., it's not my fault that my stance, on my knees in the sand before the Liberty Spikes cast adrift from our collective Western Ship of Fools as so much seawrack on the shore of this Planet of the Apes, has passed over from a tragicomedy to the third act of some Kafkaesque, off-off-Broadway-at-the-Y Ionesco play.