Wednesday, March 21, 2012

They Kill Children


Muslims are a special breed, for in pursuing their cause they have managed to slough off a primal taboo shared by all evil men everywhere: that children are sacrosanct. When terrorists deliberately target schools and school buses and engage in killing children, they have trespassed all boundaries of the moral code that may have once bound them to the rest of humanity.


Two days ago, 3 children and the father of two of the children were killed in a shooting spree that took place in a small Jewish school in Toulouse, France. During their manhunt to find the perpetrator, the police  looked for Neo-Nazis; in essence an attempt to misdirect the gut sense of the public that this vile crime could only have been committed by a Muslim. For appearances now trump the truth in every civilized city on earth.

But the truth in this case would not be suppressed.

These tender children were killed by a Muslim. There is, in fact, a war. This is not a war between countries but a great clash between civilizations that cannot be won by hiding our heads in the sand and pretending it isn’t so.

Looking Elsewhere

The dedication of Muslims surpasses our own. Our fervent wish is for a tolerant civilization where all are free to pursue their dreams no matter their race, creed, or color. But nothing stops them in their desire to make their god the ruler of the free world. Not even our whitewashing of their deeds, our looking for other candidates as perpetrators.

Not a Muslim, we prayed. Oh please not a Muslim. Let us look elsewhere.


But we need to save ourselves. For that we can only examine the truth of Islam in the way its adherents see that truth and strive with all their being toward imposing that perceived truth on the rest of us. In this war, children, tender children, lose their basic meaning. On home territory, their own children serve as human shields. Far from home, Muslims transform children from sacred objects to cannon fodder, mere vehicles for Allah’s unquenchable thirst for believers.



On Facebook we look at photos of cute kittens, puppies, and babies. We love them for their “Aw” factor. But they kill children.

It means nothing to them. It is like swatting flies.

They Kill Children

Or rather, it DOES mean something to them. It means that their dedication to their cause is greater than our civilized desire to preserve civilization. The proof is here: they will stop at nothing to attain their despicable goals.


They will even kill children.




They will gloat over the killing of children and boast of these deeds during television broadcasts on PA TV funded by tax dollars and Euros, a new kind of public implosion, a suicide by the world which, if we manage to survive may someday earn a sobriquet that gives reference to this unique kind of death by the hand of civilization against itself.

4 comments:

  1. The last child killed was executed point blank with is pistol. What morally vacant monsters does this 'religion of peace" raise? The answer is the question.

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  2. AND, it seems, the killer had a small camera in his helmet or somewhere on his body in order to film his actions as he murdered these children and the father... I suppose he wants to get more personal satisfaction as he watches his murderous actions over and over again or screens the video for his like-minded friends.

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    Replies
    1. Maybe they have invented a new genre: "Muzzie Porn."

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  3. I'm glad you reposted this, Varda. It's a tough read, because we want to believe what we WANT to believe. It's even more striking to read it again here, on Judean Rose, in such a gentle shade of pink. A pink the color of mother's love. This is the color for brownie recipes, for a Jewish woman's prayers, for connecting in a meaningful way with our families. This isn't the color for standing up and fighting the war against violent jihad. Or is it?
    I want to believe what I WANT to believe, but I no longer have the luxury of indulging that fantasy, and instead must face facts that I don't WANT to believe, but that didn't ask my permission.
    The day has come that even the gentle and delicate among us must read the writing on the wall. It's so hard and painful, Varda. Thank you for writing it in our color...

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