a future clash of civilizations ?  do you really think it will be allowed?

 

1. Oh I KNOW, I KNOW!!! Ask Me - Pleeeeze.

   Nice article from a muslim no less.

   And yes, I saw Ms Geller’s article this morning.

   As I also saw a picture snapped just after the Taliban shot a woman in the head (you could see the bullet hitting the ground) in Afghanistan.

   World Domination is their goal - and the moroons on the left - who are the just join hands and sing kumbayah - are going to be part of the reason for this coming war.

   People who kill solely based upon their religion - isn’t that supposedly what the Left hates the most?

   Or don’t I understand what the Left ‘believes’ at all?

   Posted by wardmama4       02/26/2014  at  09:54 AM  



2. Would that we had more Mudar Zahran’s and fewer Anjem Choudary’s.

   And more people and politicians willing to stand up and cry “Enough!”

   Posted by CenTexTim       02/26/2014  at  12:34 PM  



3. All you need to know about the Muzzies refusal to speak out is contained in the translation of Islam.
   Submission.
   They fear these fanatics as much as the non muslim world does and being the cowardly submitters that they are they refuse to say Boo about them. They all deserve there fate if it ends in violence . Thee rest of us should just keep a weapon handy if the need ever arises.
    

   Posted by Rich K       02/26/2014  at  06:17 PM  



4. The Grave of the Hundred Head
   Rudyard Kipling

   .

   There’s a widow in sleepy Chester
   Who weeps for her only son;
   There’s a grave on the Pabeng River,
   A grave that the Burmans shun,
   And there’s Subadar Prag Tewarri
   Who tells how the work was done.

   A Snider squibbed in the jungle,
   Somebody laughed and fled,
   And the men of the First Shikaris
   Picked up their Subaltern dead,
   With a big blue mark in his forehead
   And the back blown out of his head.

   Subadar Prag Tewarri,
   Jemadar Hira Lal,
   Took command of the party,
   Twenty rifles in all,
   Marched them down to the river
   As the day was beginning to fall.

   They buried the boy by the river,
   A blanket over his face--
   They wept for their dead Lieutenant,
   The men of an alien race--
   They made a samadh in his honor,
   A mark for his resting-place.

   For they swore by the Holy Water,
   They swore by the salt they ate,
   That the soul of Lieutenant Eshmitt Sahib
   Should go to his God in state;
   With fifty file of Burman
   To open him Heaven’s gate.

   The men of the First Shikaris
   Marched till the break of day,
   Till they came to the rebel village,
   The village of Pabengmay--
   A jingal covered the clearing,
   Calthrops hampered the way.

   Subadar Prag Tewarri,
   Bidding them load with ball,
   Halted a dozen rifles
   Under the village wall;
   Sent out a flanking-party
   With Jemadar Hira Lal.

   The men of the First Shikaris
   Shouted and smote and slew,
   Turning the grinning jingal
   On to the howling crew.
   The Jemadar’s flanking-party
   Butchered the folk who flew.

   Long was the morn of slaughter,
   Long was the list of slain,
   Five score heads were taken,
   Five score heads and twain;
   And the men of the First Shikaris
   Went back to their grave again,

   Each man bearing a basket
   Red as his palms that day,
   Red as the blazing village--
   The village of Pabengmay,
   And the “drip-drip-drip” from the baskets
   Reddened the grass by the way.

   They made a pile of their trophies
   High as a tall man’s chin,
   Head upon head distorted,
   Set in a sightless grin,
   Anger and pain and terror
   Stamped on the smoke-scorched skin.

   Subadar Prag Tewarri
   Put the head of the Boh
   On the top of the mound of triumph,
   The head of his son below,
   With the sword and the peacock-banner
   That the world might behold and know.

   Thus the samadh was perfect,
   Thus was the lesson plain
   Of the wrath of the First Shikaris--
   The price of a white man slain;
   And the men of the First Shikaris
   Went back into camp again.

   Then a silence came to the river,
   A hush fell over the shore,
   And Bohs that were brave departed,
   And Sniders squibbed no more;
   For the Burmans said
   That a kullah’s head
   Must be paid for with heads five score.

   There’s a widow in sleepy Chester
   Who weeps for her only son;
   There’s a grave on the Pabeng River,
   A grave that the Burmans shun,
   And there’s Subadar Prag Tewarri
   Who tells how the work was done.

   Posted by Argentium G. Tiger       02/27/2014  at  11:52 AM  

Commenting is not available in this weblog entry.