Stupid People, Liberal Muslim Chics and the Maginot Line

I was checking some of my favorite reads when I stumbled across one of the funniest things I've read in a long time.

Tonecluster plays the keyboard and records contemporary music as his secondary vocation. During one of this recording sessions, he met the stupidest guitar player in the universe, along with his girlfriend:

I finally ran into the dumbest guitar player in the city yesterday, as we were recording some music for a documentary on the odd migration of Saharan albino hermit spiders. He knows I follow current events (or as he emails occasionally "currant events", which I think may refer to my daily breakfast of plain oatmeal and little sweet dried fruits that look like raisins but are like way smaller. But who knows with this guy) so he brings up topics for ..ah... discussion. Which in his reality is admitted by him to be "I like to push people's buttons and make them think", and coming from a guy whose 'think' button has been out of order since I've known him is grossly insulting. But I digress.

He tunes his guitar and then can't resist: "Dude, they elected some Nazi as Pope." He's not a Nazi, I explain. "Yeah he was, he was like an advisor to Hitler or something". What?!!? Really! He was 18 in 1945.. what'd he advise.. "RUN!"? "Quick, learn Russian!"?

Read the rest, you won't want to miss that conversation.

He also takes note of an internet location that literaly sucks the average IQ of America down to "less than brain dead"

Read and be amused...or scared. This is the future of America, people, and I'm hoping I'm dead or senile before they take over.

I really dig Liberal Muslims and I've met some of the funniest over the internet. We don't always agree on everything, but we share some similar takes on society.

Mavenette at Cynicistan has a humorous take on hijab mystique and its practical purposes:

1. Guys don’t ask you out on a date since you’re dressed like a nun. And yes, that’s a good thing if your family is adamantly against dating. Plus, guys wouldn't rape nuns, making a head scarf a more comfortable accessory than a chastity belt.

2. If you’re a young woman in Iraq, Muslim or Christian, a hijab can keep the extremist cowards from shooting at you. For some reason they’re intimidated by a woman who doesn’t wear one and seem to be forgetting that hijab isn’t one of the 5 Pillars of Islam and that Christian women aren't required to wear head scarves.

3. Hijab comes in handy for the daily “bad hair day” or if you can’t afford to get your hair done.

Yes, you should go read the rest.

One of my favorite new reads which I need to blogroll with about 10 other people is Nadz101, a liberal (small "l") Muslim woman going to college in the US (I believe she's a citizen, but don't quote me on that).

She, too, had a humorous take on the Hijab Squad on campus:

Anyhow, I thought I'd continue what I began with my bashing of the college hippies by discussing another group on campus that annoys the crap out of me - the hijab squad. They're a group of creepily pious Muslim women who go around campus talking about how flawless conservative Islam is and how "empowered" they are by their headgear. Yep, empowered. Everyone seems to love that word now, despite the fact that it's pretty meaningless . Porn actresses talk about how "empowered" they are by their "work". The "actresses" in the recent Charlie's Angels movie (*shudders*, the movie that sucked out my soul) talked about how killing people and blowing things up was about empowerment. And now these little postergirls for male oppression are getting in the act.

Or, Veil This:

It's revealing when these men feel so threatened by a woman wearing pants that she suddenly deserves death. When showing your hair or walking with a confident stride becomes an act of subversion and deviance, you have to wonder what men are so afraid of? How is my hair harming society? Does it release magical rays that make men uncontrollable rapists and instigate "moral decay"? Is it my responsibility to keep you from getting turned on?

And, don't miss her Extremist Test:

6/ Successful democratic elections have taken place throughout the Middle East and secular governments have been elected. What do you think?

A) The minute I regain consciousness, I'll be dancing with joy. Go, democracy, go!
B) Dissapointed - that means Bush might have gotten something right, and that can't happen in my universe. Anyway, we can't impose our government on others, since people in the Middle East are a separate species that hates freedom.
C) So what, no Apolcalypse now? Let's nuke 'em anyway.
D) Nooooo. Does this democracy drivel allow stoning? No? Then fetch me my scimitar!

It goes without saying, you should read her site for a regular dose of anti-idiotarianism.

Hey! Don't forget to visit our reporter, the Sandmonkey, in the parallel Arab Universe (APU), where he shows us that Egyptian Foot In Mouth is just as dangerous as the American version.

Why am I pointing you to all these sites instead of writing something brilliantly funny or deadly serious? 'Cause I am in the middle of reading a ton of information on border control.

I figure if I'm gong to spout off about it, I need to have at least a rudimentary idea of what it's about, what it's going to take and whether millions of Americans will faint dead away when they see the price tag for the things they are demanding.

So far, what I've found is that it is a huge topic and silly little phrases like "protect our borders" is starting to sound a lot like "save the earth". Great idea, but just how are you planning to do that in some manner that doesn't include wiping humans from the face of the earth? Now I know why politicians' eyes glaze over and they start spitting out rhetorical blah-blah-blah that doesn't mean anything or folks who don't know if they want to spit or swallow.

I'm preparing to write something more indepth, but let me tell you what I've read so far:

• We have thousands upon tens of thousands of border and coastline (did you know that?)
  
• We have put an incredible amount of things in place in three years (I had no idea how much we've been doing)
  
• It needs more money
  
• it needs more people
  
• It does not have a large enough and well enough integrated infrastructure to develop all the initiatives and train all the people and support all of the potential platforms that could be used
  
• It is going to take time to develop
  
• It needs more money
  
• Entire Homeland Security Department and all adjunct departments need a massive IT overhaul to integrate their systems and allow quicker egress of info
  
• Slow down is in trying to develop a system that will cover all aspects (part determining efficiency; part providing useful data; part department control issues and part "isn't this shiney? we need this")
  
• We arrested over 1 million illegal aliens in 2003, what happened to them? (and where exactly do we plan to keep them?)
  
• Looking at using new technology developed for military use (UAVs, infared cameras, integrated camera/sensor system that feeds into local bases and "centcom")
  
• Needs more money
  
• Need more people
  
• Need time to develop
  
• Must not interfere with commerce because we operate on "just in time" (JIT if you're familiar the term) inventory and even a two days to a week of shut down could put us behind 2 months in product.
  
• Already put a ton of things in place at FOREIGN ports to secure cargo BEFORE it gets to America (what a concept: prevention)

I could go on, but I was reading information about the "strategy". There is a big recommendation to more fully integrate Homeland Security Strategy with foreign policy and National Security strategies. It seemed plausible, but I'll let you know.

What I have figured out already is that all those (including me very recently) who say "close the borders" don't have a clue what they are talking about and, I imagine, have some bizarre idea of creating "fortress America" with border patrol, coast guard and other security stationed every few miles on the border in bases where they can monitor it and respond.

Let's play word association.

I say Maginot Line you say...(fill in the blank).

Exactly.

Summary only...

Blogburst: The Second Amendment

Kender at Kender's Musings on his radio show, Kender Uncensored (12 AM PST) on xradio.biz Monday through Friday, was discussing the second amendment. Several sites are participating in a "blog burst" regarding the second amendment with the blogging group The Wide Awakes.

To compliment that blog burst, I am posting a link to a long post (you know me) regarding a discussion on the second amendment with a liberal who was posting at Kender's.

The post is 2nd Amendment vs. Crime Rates.

You may find the "shortened" version with excerpts by going to the inner sanctum.

The commenter used one of the lefts most cherished arguments for gun control: Crime with weapons. He also attempted to destruct the purpose of the second amendment as no longer necessary because our democratic government with a standing army precludes the necessity: the ability of the individual citizen to arm themselves and protect their country and person from invasion by a foreign power and protection against their own government whenever that government becomes the tool of oppression.

Excerpts from that post:

Constitutional Rights and Their Purpose

First of all, the second amendment was not made the second amendment so that we could bear arms and protect our property and persons from common criminals (ie, theft, robbery, car jackings, attempted murder or assault, etc). That is, as they say, a side benefit.

The purpose of the second amendment and why it was the second amendment as opposed to the tenth, is to protect ourselves and property from theft and assault BY THE GOVERNMENT or any other entity, country, force that seeks to take away all those other rights outlined in the constitution and additional amendments thereof.

Actually, the first rights that the founding fathers outlined were the "unwritten rights" outlined in the declaration of independence:

...that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness

The preamble of the constitution goes further to indicate the general purpose of the constitution and by law, the amendments thereof:

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

Government "Checks and Balances" and the Individual Citizen

the government of the United States is not just based on a federal repulic and representative government. The government was set up to provide redundancy and/or checks and balances on the system.

You are familiar with the three main bodies of government that provide checks and balances against each other: The executive, legislative and Judicial branches; each with their own powers and abilities to "check and balance" the other.

However, the founding fathers understood that, even in such a system, the government entities alone could not be trusted to provide checks and balances against each other for the common good of the people. That still gave too much power to the government. So they insured that a fourth "check and balance" was in place: the individual citizen.

That's right, we are the last "check" in our redundant system of government.

The right to free speech, the right to due process of the law, the right for our property to be sancrosant and not arbitrarily confiscated or used by the government and the "right" to select representatives to government (ie, voting), none of these rights alone can protect us against abuse or despotic government.

...the final check and balance in the entire system is the ability of the individual citizen to change the government, by force and through taking up arms, if necessary, and to protect our persons and property from abuse by the government or other entity.

It is all of the rights outlined in the Constitution and Amendments, including the second amendment, that are meant to protect American Citizens from abuse by their government, encroachment on all rights listed and the potential for the rise of despotic government.

If you read the full version of the post, you will find a continuing discussion about the feasibility of armed rebellion against a better armed government and more technologically advanced military.

Aside from that, there is a real and current danger that should, by necessity, engender the public to ensure the second amendment stays intact:

Let's also talk about the possibility that on 9/11 or another day similar, the central powers of this country were devastated in an attack that was capable of taking out the Pentagon, congress and the white house. The beauty of the redundancy of our federalist and republic representative government is that we could fairly quickly establish new heads and representatives. However, things would be a bit chaotic for a brief while, until we re-organized.

The individual as a part of that redundancy becomes very important. First to hold those who would seek power at that time accountable for their actions.

Second would be to secure our individual safety, the safety of our family and neighbors, and our personal property during the potential chaos that would ensue. Third would be to secure the homeland as, at this potential transitional time, our enemies might see us a ripe for the picking, attacking the US directly or it's interests and otherwise engaging our military.

...provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty

Crime Rates

During the discussion, I made this comment about the left using crime rates as a point of debate to attack the second amendment:

The left's desire to frame this argument as a safety issue or a program to reduce crime is a strawman argument. Anyone who wishes to argue the 2nd amendment should never stoop to their argument, but stay on the constitution and the guarantee of freedom.

Once you get down to trying to compare statistics about crime rates, you have already lost the argument and the point of the 2nd amendment. That point is the protection of freedom and our rights as outlined in the constitution, not the crime rate.

Of course, I was induced by the commenter to approach the subject of crime rates on the basis that existing gun control laws were allegedly responsible for the drop in crime. Upon reviewing the data, I immediately found the problem with the gun control lobby's use of specific time frames of data:

Non Fatal Crimes with Firearms

Crimes related to firearms began dramatically increasing in 1988. By 1993 they were up to 1.2 million per year. Immediately after 1993, these crimes began a miraculous drop in numbers to until it reached just over 300k per year, similar to the statistics recorded in 1973. The Brady Law was implemented in 1994.

This is the data that gun control lobbyists use to promote the idea that waiting periods work and additional gun control or longer waiting periods could reduce the number of crimes even further.

As I noted in that post, there is a disclaimer under all of the graphs and tables for this data:

Source: National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS). Ongoing since 1972 with a redesign in 1993, this survey of households interviews about 75,000 persons age 12 and older in 42,000 households twice each year about their victimizations from crime.

Other tables show a similar increase beginning in 1988 and contain the same disclaimer regarding revision:

Crimes Related To Fire Arms
Gun Crimes Since 1973

This graph shows you that the number of fire arms crimes reported to the police in 1973 was appx 370k crimes. This crime rate holds almost steady with a few blips until 1988 where it begins a sharp increase until 1993 at an all time high of 590k(conveniently when they begin to redesign the data gathering) and decreases until 1998-99, back to appx 370k with a blip back to 450k in 2001 and then back again to "leveL" with this comment below:

According to data from the National Center for Health Statistics, in 2001 about 39% of the deaths that resulted from firearms injuries were homicides, 57% were suicides, 3% were unintentional, and 1% were of undetermined intent.

Suicides are included in this crime rate and are 57% of the crimes recorded. In 1993, according to the data, suicide was 48% of the crimes and climbs all through the data, regardless of the laws enacted.

I would like to point out the significance of the blip in 2001 and its relationship to increased suicides. In 2001, thousands of people were widowed, orphaned, lost a close loved one, lost their jobs, lost their homes and the stock market fell dramatically. All issues that have consistently contributed to suicide.

Back to the collection of data:

As a person that routinely deals with statistics and analyzation of data in my regular job, the data miraculous decrease in crime statistics stinks to high heaven. In a GROWING population of 300 mil people (somewhere around 270 mil in 1993), you don't get those kind of decreases in any data, not in poverty, in healthcare, in highschool drop outs, none.

By their comment on the redesign, it is fairly evident that their previous data collection techniques were flawed giving an unreasonably high rate of crime. This could be anything from counting one act of armed robbery where there were ten victims as "ten" as opposed to "one". It could mean, in the solicitation of information during previous surveys, the question sets were predisposed to obtain or construe data in a certain manner. any number of things that prompted them to "redesign" their collection and data analysis.

What happened in 1988 to the justice department that might have precipitated this unusual data pattern?

In 1988, the Regulatory Flexibility Act was passed that required all agencies to present more data and information on programs they were managing (this is also in conjunction with "unfunded mandates reform act"). The DOJ had a rather large overhaul in order to meet this requirement and produce the data required.

What does that mean in relationship to our data and our discussion?

In short, the data was flawed and the collection techniques were flawed. (...)

Interestingly, the data decline begins to level off around 1999 and remains fairly constant for the last 4 years of data collection until 2003 despite waiting periods. I would hazard a guess that it remains so today with possible little blips and increases what with the craziness of the last election.

The Brady Law

Ninth amendment:

The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.

Disparage

2. To reduce in esteem or rank.
ETYMOLOGY: Middle English disparagen, to degrade,

Any law that prohibits gun ownership within city, county, state or federal limits, is a denial of the second amendment. Any law , such as registration, licensing, seven day waiting periods, laws against owning certain weapons, DISPARAGE the second amendment, a right granted by the constitution.

From the Brady Law campaign:

Since the implementation of the Brady Law in February 1994, almost a quarter-million prohibited purchasers have been stopped from buying handguns in gun stores, according to the U.S. Department of Justice. Since 1994, gun-related violent crime has been dropping even faster than violent crime overall, and a 1997 study by the Center to Prevent Handgun Violence demonstrated a dramatic decrease in interstate gun trafficking since the Brady Law went into effect.

(...)conveniently, they leave out the data for who was stopped from buying a gun.(...)white collar, non-violent criminals made up over 70% of those felonious characters kept from buying a gun.(...)

And what about the people who were committing crimes anyway (including suicide an ever increasing rates)?

Guns Used In Crime

According to the 1997 Survey of State Prison Inmates, among those possessing a gun, the source of the gun was from -

a flea market or gun show for fewer than 2%
a retail store or pawnshop for about 12%
family, friends, a street buy, or an illegal source for 80%

In 1993, the brady law and three day waiting period was passed [ed...implemented in 1994] with a 90% support nation wide after a media campaign using inflated numbers and what has become known as "scare tactics". The year the brady campaign first kicked off 1985, the crime rate was no higher nor lower than it is today. If it wasn't for the mess of the data, this law would not have existed.

Good Society, Public Safety and Laws

Each day, with each world event and with each law enacted in order to form this "perfect union", I see that we get further and further away from the original intent. We as citizens, in the desparation to "civilize" ourselves, to insure "public safety" have given up a little here and a little there. All in the name of "good society".

Laws do not create a good society, laws are meant to protect a good society, it is the people within that society that make it good or otherwise. (...)

(...)We have, in the course of creating our utopia (not to be confused with socialist/communist utopia; but in essence, the utopia of "good society") allowed ourselves to be convinced that these little things that we offer, that we sacrifice, are for the greater good of our society. There are many out there, who like me in the days past, do not pay a lot of attention to the goings on outside of their little lives. At least until those goings on come to them.

By dent of media blitzes, barrages of information such as crime rates, etc, have served to convince a majority of people that this was an epidemic and that we should "give a little" on our rights in order to better institute "good society". Even though we have "representative government" we can still be ruled by a majority that inflicts its desires on its representatives. That majority is largely uneducated and unconcerned about what damage they might do to other civil liberties that do not have an immediate impact on them. Particularly as they are concerned with day to day life and not some theoretical future where their other rights might depend on the very right that they limited or eliminated in the course of "good society" and the "here and now".

Ben Franklin:

All human situations have their inconveniences. We feel those of the present but neither see nor feel those of the future; and hence we often make troublesome changes without amendment, and frequently for the worse.

It is up to us as citizens who are cognizant of history to remain vigilant on their behalf, however they might find that vigilance annoying or contrary to their current desires for utopia, lest they wake one day to find that their utopia has become hell.

A European On American Gun Culture and My Reply

Peter in Sweden comments:

But having lived in Europe for more than 35 years, I have come to another intellectual conclusion, that is that the "right" to bear arms is a cultural artifact or remnant with no humanistic justification in a modern society.

The pull between inbred cultural attitudes and acquired empirical knowledge is a strong and disturbing factor for many of us. Cultural (including religious) influence can create major political, social and even demographic disturbances. In short, many times we know what should be a correct course (in a better world) but we follow a set of actions with no real intellectual foundation, just because we cannot free ourselves from habits, traditions and behavioural patterns.

I think the debate on the 2nd Ammendment is a perfect example of this.

In Europe, most countries ban the private possession of firearms. In Sweden, murders are often committed using sharp weapons - knives, razors and the like. If you want to commit armed robbery, kill someone or just "protect yourself" you will find a way. But guns are sort of special. To kill someone with a knife, you have to get close, engage in some sort of physical contact and interrrelation. With a gun, it's so much easier: just point and shoot from a distance. It is this "distancing" that makes firearms so humanly reprehensible. I think it takes a lot more guts to knife someone than to shoot him or her.

What I'm saying is this. I's much easier to kill someone - either by accident or on purpose -by using a gun. You can often read in the papers about fatal shootings, caused by playing with guns or by getting scared and killing an innocent person. It can happen when you've got a gun at hand, can't it? And, as I said above, it's more clinical.

There should be no "right" to bear firearms.

Robert, an American, responds:

Peter- The reality that guns are easier to wield is actually why they are beneficial. Imagine who has the greatest advantage in the ideal, gunless society! Lifetime warriors and thugs, not every citizen. Not every citizen is six foot four, built like a brick wall, and capable of competently defending his person and property against a larger invader. The gun is, in many ways, an equalizer.

And of course, any attempt at gun criminalization must take into effect how gun confiscation would work. Could our government actually confiscate the millions upon millions of guns that exist in this country? There is no way they could. Unless you want to invade South America up to Panama and seal the border there

My response on European Disarmament

Peter, you in Europe may disarm yourselves forever and a day. While you do, I believe I will keep remembering these names:

Hitler (no, the Germans would not have resisted him, but the Polish and a number of other people in a number of other countries might have been able to help themselves if they had a traditiona of firearms)

Stalin (no, the Russians were pretty powerless to stop him, but again, all those lovely eastern countries didn't stand a chance, not even the partisan resistors)

Ceauceua, Uncle Tito, Franco, Russia rolling through half of Europe on any given day whenever it wanted?

We look at Africa for genocide, but Europe seems to want to practice that too on a regular basis, or need I mention Milosovic, Bosnia, Serbia and Herzogovenia?

No offense Peter, but Europe can have it's tradition of being a self induced disarmed continent. You may also retain Europes lead as the place most likely to be over run or self inflict megalomaniacial leaders on its "civilized society".

Please note: Over 200 years and not one dictator. 200 years of rescuing the rest of the world from dictators.

So, you must see why I and many others find European attitudes on the subject quite funny really. If you think that Europe in its grand civilized clothing of the European Union is some how making itself safe from a potential future less a dictator, think again. From my analysis, you all are doing exactly what the greatest dictators of the past have always wanted to do and that is to bring Europe together under one flag and eventually, one leader.

Sort of Ironic really.

If you enjoyed this "short" excerpt, you may enjoy the entire post at 2nd Amendment: Right to Bear Arms

If you are concerned about the PATRIOT ACT and it's possible uses and infringements on people's rights, you should be concerned about the [loss ro disparagement of] 2nd amendment. If you are concerned about infringements on the right to free speech, you should be concerned about the 2nd amendment. The smallest infringement on one right, even in the name of good society, is the infringement of all rights.

Ben Franklin

Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both.

My favorite armory Castle Argghhh

Summary only...

Beveryl Hillbilly Bikers: Lost In Space

Danger, Will Robinson, danger!

Where is that damn robot when you need him? I mean, no one listens to good advice, even when it's free because, well, it's free and you usually think it's worth that: $0. And, if it comes from an immediate family member, it is even less worthy of attention. But, if it was a big seven-foot robot, with hook hands and a red flashing eye, you'd pay attention.

Unfortunately, we don’t live in a time when personal robots make our beds, compute tricky mathematic equations or save our asses in the nick of time. So, we’re stuck with trying to ascertain the def con level ourselves.

Usually, we suck.

Warning signs? Feh! Blinders are so much more fun.

See me wearing blinders ignoring warning signs:

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4

Day 5

The pain in the front of my head was excruciating. Not a piercing pain, but a hammering pain that seemed to throb with every stroke of the sledgehammer the little bastard inside my forehead was wielding.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

He was pounding the inside of my forehead, trying to get out because I was lying face down, pillow propped on my fore arms, with my forehead barely propped on it. My arms formed a cage around my face, keeping in the heat and the sour smell of too many margaritas on my breath, burning my nose and singing the back of my throat. I felt the sweat pouring down my face, my neck, into my cleavage and making the few clothes I had on stick to unholy places on my body.

The air laying over me was like a musty, soggy five ton blanket that had been liberally rolled in dirt and grit before being thrown over me to perpetuate the feeling of being in a sauna.

I was in a sauna. By a quick and painful peek out of the corner of my eye, I noted the olive green nylon of the inside of the little pup tent I was occupying. No, it wasn’t a sauna, it was a sweat lodge and the only thing missing was incense and a shaman chanting cleansing words.

Boy, I could have used those cleansing words right about then. Purify me, great Spirit, before my brain melts into this freaking sleeping bag or I rip out the front of my forehead to dislodge that nasty little bastard that keeps pounding in there. I mean, what the hell is he building, anyway? A hundred unit condominium complex?

I laid there a little longer praying that sleep would come back and make me oblivious to the torture. No dice. I felt a little sharp pinch on my left leg and rubbed it quickly with my right. I listened to the outside world and realized that it was quietly muffled with the sound of voices and a few diesel engines. Damn it! Sleep was fading quickly. Another little pinch on the neck caused me to scrunch up my shoulders and inadvertently send the sledgehammer into over time. Ugh!

This was quickly followed by a pinch on my left arm that I rubbed away with the pillow. This was getting annoying. Even the air was painful.

Finally, I rolled over looking up at the mesh dome and causing the little sledgehammer guy to the back of my head where he immediately took up the pounding again. Even the dim light from outside the tent walls was enough to make me drag my arm over my eyes and pray for a few more minutes of dark and quiet.

No such luck. Another pinch on my arm had me holding it up in annoyance in the dim light. What the hell was all this pinching crap about?

I focused blearily on my arm and noted a little red ant crawling around, apparently mistaking me for a giant piece of toast it could carry away to it’s little hidey hole and share with the other 3 million mindless drones. I wearily brushed it off, just in time to feel another bite, right on my upper arm and another on my leg which I held up in the gloomy sticky light.

Another freaking ant.

Shit! I rolled to a sitting position quickly and the sledgehammer went careening around my brain, but the thought of little red ants all over me was enough to make me ignore it.

I hated ants. I don’t really like bugs since they can really screw you up at 80 mph on the open highway, but ants give me the creeps. Ever since I was a kid and saw this stupid cartoon faux advertisement for a movie where the ants were lined up by the hundreds slowly carrying away a woman tied up and gagged, big round eyes as she was taken to their ant farm for a 1 million ant snack.

Yuck!

Of course, ants can’t really tie you up and gag you, but a few creepy crawlies making a snack out of my epidermis was freaking me out, man.

I squinted at my appendages and noted several had taken up impermanent residence so I evicted them with all malice afore thought.

Squish. Flick. Smack. Son of a bitch these things were tenacious.

I could see that the bed roll was infected with them so I scooted towards the tent door, unzipped it and made a quick exit, standing in front of the tent, shaking myself like a dog and brushing at even imaginary creepy crawlies. Everyone that was already outside their tents paused long enough to watch me do the “anti-ant” dance. Probably amused the hell out of them.

“Told ya’,” my aunt said as she finished pouring herself some coffee.

It was coming back to me. The voice, fading off in the distance of drink induced oblivion had come over the night before and told me not to lay where I was laying. I recall having very rude thoughts that included the words “fuck” and “off”. Some things can come back to bite you in the ass. Literally.

I don’t know how the hell I’d made it into the tent, but I must have dragged myself in there at some point, taking at least half the red ant population of the little hell hole camp ground we were in, inside the tent with me.

Okay, it wasn’t a hellhole campground. It was actually kind of nice in a barren Louisiana flat land kind of way. I was only calling it “hell hole” due to my extremely ungenerous feelings of the morning after “two fer” margarita night and four days of the worst vacation of my life.

I focused on the ground around me and noted the giant red ant hills that were liberally dispersed amongst the tuffs of grass. It seemed like the whole damned earth was moving with these things.

As I noted in the previous selection concerning Dante and the inferno, he might be quoted in upscale salons everywhere, but he’d missed a sincere opportunity to really investigate the meaning of hell. I mean, who in the hell wants to live in this place? It’s hot, gritty, steamy, ant and mosquito infested with just enough wild life to make you glance in the drainage ditches to insure your leg isn’t going to be taken off.

Is there something to see in Louisiana besides New Orleans? Anything? Ante-bellum homes, nice, but that ain’t enough to persuade me to visit overly long. As a matter of fact, I was beginning to think I’d found the southerner’s natural moat defenses meant to keep “Yankees” far away and the slave labor in line. Behave or I will sic the ants on you.

I did another quick jiggly dance, brushing everywhere and walked towards the picnic table, “Please tell me somebody has some ibuprofen, Tylenol, morphine, something to kill this pain.”

I downed several Ibuprofen and a can of coke, stumbled to the shower and tried to scrub away the feeling of creepy crawlies all over. You’d be amazed where those little critters can hide.

I came out and everyone was packing up. Uncle Lou was directing Aunt Jeanie on the proper way to load the back of the truck and irritable that she was putting their things up front instead of in the back where they could get to it first. It’s all about the competition. We are a family of competitors.

You’ll find out soon enough.

Mikey and my bro were still complaining about not getting down the road as fast as they wanted. This set off a little argument that had me rolling my eyes. I would have just enjoyed riding to where ever we made it and going back. Goal oriented riding seemed to take all the fun out of it. That’s one reason I never liked “Poker Runs” even though they are for charity. High-tailing it through back roads and high-ways with a hundred other bikes trying to be the “first” seemed to drain away the freedom of riding. That’s what I was finding on this trip.

Finally, everyone was done packing. Bro was saying he was going to trailer his bike. He was feeling the effects of the heat. So was the bike. He was going through spark plugs once a day. Our cousin Candy saw him “trailering” the bike and asked if she could ride it. Bro, like all good bike riders, didn’t really want to let some one else ride his “baby”. She got pissed and said he was doing it because he thought she couldn’t ride. Another argument ensued.

I was thinking, “Please…somebody shoot me. Now. Just one quick shot to the head, it would all be over. Then they could throw me in a ditch with the alligators and I’d finally get a restful vacation.”

Finally, Uncle Lou stepped in and told my cousin that it was his bike and his prerogative to allow someone to ride or not. Her husband Robert gave her the keys to their bike and said he was going to ride in the back of the truck to get some sleep. The hard ground was playing havoc with his back.

We finally took off heading east on Highway 10. At first, it was normal traffic, no big deal. But, when we got down where the highway veered off to go to New Orleans, it was crazy. I mean, trucks and cars within inches of each other. The wind from the diesels was sucking at you like a black hole just ready to send you into oblivion. We were doing fine, just riding. A little irritated at the slow pace we were forced to keep in the slow lane because we couldn’t get out en masse in the passing lane with all the bikes and the truck.

We stopped at a gas station, gassed up, and bro pulled his bike off the trailer. He was feeling refreshed and ready to ride.

We took off again, still in heavy traffic. At this point we were right in between the two exits to go down to New Orleans and it was the most insane thing I’d seen in a long time. I can honestly say that I was afraid for the first time in my life. It’s dangerous with cars not seeing you in regular traffic, but add to that people trying to go home, or go to lunch or go where ever in a big city and you have a game of blind man’s tag with 2 tons of steel and rubber against 500lbs of iron, flesh and blood. Crazy.

At some point, Uncle Lou got irritated with a trucker that had cut him off. Next thing we knew, he was flying through traffic by the seat of his pants, cutting in and out in front of diesels, making them hit their breaks, horns were blowing and people were cussing. We were trying to keep him in sight, but the more we would try to jump in and out of traffic, the further behind the chase truck would get. No traffic jumping with and F150 and an 8 ft trailer.

At some point I looked in my rearview mirror and couldn’t see the truck anymore. Mikey and bro noticed it too. Their wives were riding in the truck at that time. Candy kept trying to keep up with her dad. Mikey, bro and I slowed down in the slow lane and made the traffic pass us. Finally, the truck caught up. Mikey and bro swung out in the passing lane and slowed down enough to give the truck room to change lanes. Filthy words were flying along with horns again. The truck was able to break 55 and we started scooting, trying to catch up with Uncle Lou who had continued to jump in and out of traffic.

We caught up with them just as traffic had slowed to something resembling normal. Just in time to hit an exit to get gas. Storm clouds were starting to spot the sky and press a little gloom on the ride to go along with the foul mood. And, it was foul. When we stopped, Mikey and bro were off to the side grumbling to themselves about the dangerous crap Uncle Lou was doing and causing them to lose sight of the truck with their wives. Playing chicken with diesels in heavy city traffic was not our idea of fun.

Personally, I was having the same thoughts. If we were in a group, then you ride for the group. Particularly, if you are the self proclaimed “leader”. That’s not leadership. I decided at that point to get out the map and see where we were. If this was going to keep up, I wanted to know where we were and how to get there. I was deciding at that point that I was taking charge of my riding and I would get there when I got there.

I didn’t really want to die trying.

Aunt Jeanie came over with a map as well. We looked it over and I was pointing to an exit that was supposed to take us down to a road that went along the beach all the way to Gulf Port. This was the “scenic” ride. My map didn’t show the same exit as my aunt’s and we spent a few minutes discussing if that exit really went down to that highway or was some back road thing that would end us up at somebody’s “fishing camp”.

At the same time, the men started arguing. Uncle Lou overheard the boys grumbling about his leadership skills and confronted them about it.

“Hey, you wanna ride, you gotta keep up. That’s just the way it is.” He was being flippant. He was a Henry after all and we are not known for admitting we might be wrong. Ever.

“Bullshit. My wife was in the truck and we lost site of them twice. I had to back down traffic at rush hour so they could catch up while you were off playing Diesel tag.” Mikey had the family curse of red hair, fair skin and freckles that joined together with too much sun. When he got pissed, his whole face started turning red.

My bro had a hot temper, too. It had gotten him into trouble a couple of times. One with the law that wasn’t quite yet resolved. He jumped in and let fly, too, “We’re supposed to be having fun on this trip. So far, I haven’t seen any damn fun. Just people thinking they know everything and trying to tell everyone what to do.” Did I mention he had a problem with authority?

Uncle Lou was getting pissed now. “You think one of you two can do it better? Fine. You get out and lead.”

“Fine. I will.” Mikey said, swigging out of a water bottle.

“You do that.” I think he wanted to add “punk” on the end, but thought better of it.

Bro’s wife came over to my aunt and I to look at the map. I left them to it and went over to fill up my gas tank. Everyone put on leather jackets because it was starting to sprinkle. It sucked because it was so hot and muggy but I really didn’t feel like wearing a ton of grit and mud off the road.

We pulled out of the station and Mikey took the lead. As he left the entrance ramp, he kicked it up to about 70 mph in the inside lane and we all followed suit. We were on the other side of New Orleans at that point and lunch rush hour was over. Traffic was back to a normal pace and we were taking advantage of it. After about 5 minutes of travel, Uncle Lou’s bike passed on the outside and jumped ahead of Mikey. He was never good at being in the back of the pack. His main comment was that he had the biggest bike and therefore should be in the lead. Why that made a difference I don’t know, but that was it. As he dropped in front of Mikey, he slowed it down to 55 mph, causing everyone to gear down. At the back of the pack, I was doing 50 and my sister in law later said she was doing about 45 mph.

Cars were starting to go around us in the passing lane, honking their horns and flipping us off. About 5 minutes after leaving the gas station the sprinkles had stopped and the heat had quickly dried up any dampness on the highway. It was dry as a bone. We kept driving that way for about 10 minutes and everyone was starting to wave their hands around and yell back and forth. Uncle Lou was being an ass. He decided, if they were going to give him shit about driving fast through traffic, he was going to make us ALL drive slow. See how we liked that.

I was hot, sticky and miserable. The leather jacket was heavy. The ant bites were stinging and itching like a mutha fucker. I was taking my hand off my handlebars and scratching through the leather. I was getting more and more pissed at the pissy attitudes of these so-called “adults”.

At this point, I saw the chase vehicle with the trailer swing out to the left and begin to pass. My sister in law was tired of the crap. When she passed my uncle she was doing about 70 mph.

Did I mention we were all competitive?

The next thing I know, Uncle Lou kicked it up to about 90 and swung out ahead of the chase vehicle. We all hit the throttle and started hammering the highway. Mikey shot after Uncle Lou, bro was close behind. The chase vehicle hit the accelerator and fell in behind them. I was hitting the throttle and catching up with them, but I saw my cousin Candy falling back. Every time I got up about 70 mph, she would start drifting back. The truck and the other motorcycles were pulling away. I slowed up a bit and tried to get Candy to move it, giving her the “follow me” sign, yelling through my full face helmet, “Fucking, com’on!”. I hit the throttle again, but she didn’t come with me.

I slowed down again. She had a 750cc Honda, geared low, but with a 6th gear for over drive. I kept thinking she just didn’t know to shift down to get some RPMs rolling. I was yelling over the wind, “Kick it down. Kick the gear down!” It was hard because I was laughing a bit. Her black leather jacket with all the girlie fringe was a couple sizes too big for her. The wind was blowing it up like a freaking parachute. She was bent over trying to hide behind this little windshield that was on the front of the bike and the “polo” riding helmet she was using was doing the same parachute trick, probably choking her with the strap as the helmet was pulled up with the force of the wind. She had on clear goggles. She looked like snoopy riding his dog house, intent on getting the Red Baron.

I looked forward again and the bikes and the chase vehicle were getting smaller in the distance. I kept thinking, “Fucking macho bullshit.” I cranked the throttle again and blasted forward, watching in my side mirror as my cousin continued to fall back, then looking forward to see the bikes disappear over the top of a hill, chase vehicle close behind. I said, “Fuck this!” and let off the throttle, falling back to my cousin Candy’s position.

I started noticing the surrounding environment. There were nothing but trees and ditches and fields as far as the eye could see. There we were, two girls on bikes alone in the middle of bumble fuck Louisiana. I was getting more and more pissed by the moment. This trip was nothing but a bunch of fucked up disasters with a few moments of relaxation. My arms, back and legs were itching from the ant bites and I felt the morning’s headache returning, making me even more in a foul mood.



Suddenly, Candy dropped back and off to the side of the road. I geared down and dropped over, too, but by time I stopped I was about a tenth of a mile ahead of her. I jumped off the bike, started taking off my helmet and walking back to her position with my Frankenstein boots making a clunking dragging sound on the gravel. I watched as Candy grabbed the windshield straight off the front of her bike without unscrewing a bolt, look at it for a few moments, look at the bike (that had little bitty saddle bags and no bungee cords), look at the ditch on the side of the road and give it a mean throw into the water.

What the fuck was that about?

I asked her the same question.

Her reply, “The G—Damn wing nuts fell off. Every time I tried to get above 60 it started flying back at me. And, these G—Damn assholes just ran off and left me.”

Well, that explained why she kept riding with one hand on the windshield and one on the throttle. I am usually calm and collected in a crisis, “Don’t worry. I’m sure those jackasses will figure out shortly that we’re not with them and pull over on the side of the road. We’ll probably catch up with them in a few minutes.” I had every confidence, as ass-holish as they were behaving, they would come to their senses and realize that two bikes weren’t with them anymore. “Com’on then. Let’s get going. Everything else okay with the bike?”

“Yeah, it was just the freaking windshield.” She said, tightening her helmet and adjusting the goggles.

I walked back to my bike and we started hitting the road again, this time doing about 70 mph together. I wasn’t going any faster. I figured if those assholes had left us behind they could sit on the side of the road at my leisure waiting for us to catch up.

We drove about another 10 minutes and we still didn’t see anyone. I was getting more and more pissed. I can’t believe these people really ran off and left us. One of them was Candy’s husband. You’d think one of those macho morons would give a shit.

Candy waved her had to get me to pull over on the side of the road. We did and I stayed straddling the bike, but took off my helmet so I could talk. “What’s up?”

“Did you see them on the side of the road?” She was mad.

“No, did you? At the rate they were traveling we might have to go another 10 minutes or so to catch up.” I was trying to keep our hopes up.

“What if they don’t stop? We don’t know where we’re going.” Mad and anxious, I could tell she was contemplating kicking somebody’s ass, probably starting with her husband.

“I know where we’re going. While they were all mouthing off, I was looking at the map with your mom. The exit isn’t that far up ahead. I was thinking maybe they stopped there. Let’s keep going and see if we can find them. If not, we’ll just go until we do.” And, if I had to go further than the exit to find these assholes, they were going to get a piece of my freaking mind.

Candy was of the same idea and was mumbling curses and wishes that she was an orphan and a widow. I couldn’t tell if that was a wish for the past or her hope for a near future.

We got back on the bikes and cranked it back up doing 70 mph. I really didn’t think that the little Honda could go much faster. After five more minutes, we saw the red truck going back the opposite direction on the other side of the highway. All of a sudden, Candy veers off in front of me like she was going to go down the grassy median and turn around to chase them. I zoomed up in time to yell at her not to do that. I saw the red truck flash it’s lights at us as it flew by. I didn’t want to play tag. “Com’on! We’ll pull off the side of the road and wait for them to turn around.”

We did that and started taking off our helmets and gloves. I didn’t see the other bikes anywhere, but I watched the red truck pull up behind us.

Robert stuck his head out the passenger side window and was being very solicitous, “Are you okay?” I’m not sure he got the whole sentence actually out. Candy stomped over to the truck and threw down her helmet, right there on the side of the road.

She almost couldn’t speak she was so pissed and her face turned red, making her freckles glow, “Am I alright?! Am I alright?! Do you think I’m alright?!” She was ripping her leather off like she was about to go to town on somebody’s face, “You fucking assholes ran off and left us! We’ve been driving for a half hour thinking you were going to stop! You fucking assholes!”

My sister in law was just sitting in the driver’s seat calmly smoking a cigarette. All of a sudden, Robert’s face went from solicitous to deep red, his eyes bulged out like a bloated fish and he started huffing like a diesel blowing back flow, screaming at the top of his lungs on the side of the highway in Louisiana, “I”, gasp,”just…asked.” Gasp, “if…you…were,” deep breath, “alright! Don’t blame me ‘cause,” gasping breath, “you’re fucking family,” his hands were gripping the side of the truck, “is full of fucking baby’s!”

Everyone just stared at Robert in astonishment. He was saying exactly what the hell I was thinking. Cars were flying by and slowing down when they reached us, but immediately speeding back up. Somebody was half way intelligent around here. I took in the scene. Side of the road, couple motorcycles, a truck and two people screaming at each other, in the middle of bumble fuck Louisiana. All in all, it was hysterical. I started laughing my ass off. I couldn’t help it. The whole damn trip was one major disaster after the other with bouts of petty squabbling in between. This just topped it off. I was bent over at the middle laughing so hard I couldn’t even breathe.

My sister in law was laughing too. Both Robert and Candy stopped screaming at each other and were now looking at US like we’d lost OUR minds.

“I can’t help it. It’s just too fucking funny. Who else would go on a road trip with 9 fucking people and get left? Hahahahahahaha!”

Seriously, it was laugh or cry and I was never a big crier.

Finally, I got control of myself, wiped my eyes and walked over to the truck, bumming a cigarette off of Mer, “So, where the hell’s the rest of the assholes?”

“Well,” she said a little chagrined, “we kept flashing our lights at them to get them to pull over, but they just kept going. Then I tried to get up beside them and wave them over, but as soon as I pulled out they took off even faster. They had to be doing 110mph and I wasn’t going to pull the trailer that fast. Finally, I tried to signal them again and turned on the blinker to get off on an exit and come back since we figured you had to have a problem, but they still ignored me and kept going.”

Yeah, that’s what I thought. Freaking macho assholes.

“Hey! Where’s the windshield for the bike?” Robert finally noticed that SOMETHING was missing.

But it did seem to set Candy off again, “I threw it in a ditch.”

“What?” and Robert was about to join her in blast off again. Even the little windshields can cost close to a hundred bucks.

“Well…you guys just took off and the freaking wing nuts came off and the windshield started flying off and I had to hold onto it with one hand and try to twist the throttle with the other and it really sucked when I had to change gears because the windshield started fly off and this freaking jacket, “ she wadded it up and tossed it towards the truck, “was like a freaking parachute and every time I got around 60 it acted like it was going to pull me off backwards and the helmet was flying up and choking me too.” She finally took a breath, “So Kat and I pulled over and I ripped the windshield off but there was no place to put it so I threw it in a ditch!”

This started Mer and I laughing again, but Robert was finding nothing to smile about. “Well, we need to get going and see where these assholes ended up at. Hopefully, they at least missed the big red truck in their mirrors. When we catch up to them I am going to give them a fucking earful!” Just because the truck had come back and solved one problem, didn’t mean that I wasn’t still pissed about the others running off.

“Well,” Mer said, taking a drag off her cigarette, “I know where we’re going so even we don’t catch them we’ll be fine.”

“Great,” I said, “that’s two of us. You got the map?” Mer and I looked at the map while Candy and Robert continued to have words at a lower tone. We still had six more days of this crap. Six days and I didn’t know if I was going to make it without committing murder.

We looked the map over and identified our exit that was circled, “Hey. This time, would you mind staying BEHIND us?”

Mer looked chagrined and started her own diatribe, “Well, dammit. You all were going like 50 mph and I was trailing at 45. I was tired of riding back there while they were all acting like asses.”

I laughed again and then we went back to the bikes. I left my leather in the truck because my ant bites just couldn’t take the heat anymore. Although, the stress had made me forget about them for a while.

We kept going down the road, looking at every possible off spot where someone could possibly pull over and we couldn’t find anyone. I was getting really pissed again. Everyone had this long talk before we started the trip about the rules of the road and sticking together in case some one broke down and the people that had been talking the most had run off and left us.

I knew when I got back to Kansas City that I would never hear the end of this from my dad. He’d been warning me that going off with these folks wasn’t a good idea. I kept insisting it would be an adventure. I just didn’t know it would be my first foray into hell.

Finally, we came up to the exit that would lead us down to the highway that would run along the bottom of Mississippi’s gulf shore until we hit Gulf Port. I was getting low on gas and so was the truck and Candy’s bike. We pulled over at this little convenience store and got gas, consulted the map again, cursed the others for being assholes and then proceeded on towards Gulf Port.

Honestly, had I been a little less pissed and little less busy looking for bikes on the side of the road, I might have enjoyed the scenery, but, at that point, I could have been driving by a blank space on the map. I vaguely recall quaint little delta towns with bungalows and slightly older homes.

We reached the eastward highway and turned towards Gulf Port. I was still pissed and a little anxious about finding the others, but seeing signs that said, “Gulf Port,” had me relaxed a little. At least we were near our destination. We could figure out how to find the others once we got there. The homes in the area were now more like ante-bellum beach homes with giant colonnaded porches facing the bay. The smell of salt water was very strong in the humid air with an overlay of oil refineries and offshore drilling. It was a tangy almost unpleasant scent that stuck in the back of my throat.

After riding for another hour, we came into Gulf Port, just as the sun was going down behind us. There were little off road parking lots all along the beach and we slowed down to look into them and see if any of the bikes were there, somewhere, some how, parked on the side of the road. We were all weary by then and ready to get off the bikes. This day had already been long and exhausting and it wasn’t ending very well.

We kept driving through Gulf Port and ended up all the way down by the Biloxi city limits before turning around and heading back through Gulf Port to look into the gas stations on the land side of the road, still hoping to find someone. Still no luck though we thought we saw my bro’s bike, alone, at a gas station. We turned around to get a second look, but it was gone by time we got there. Besides, we were looking for three bikes, not one, so we headed back towards the west end of the city, finally hitting the city limits again and turning back for a third pass.

I slowed down and got next to the truck, “Hey! If we don’t find them this time, I think we should pull over in one of these parking lots and wait.” Mer nodded. If you’re separated from your group, you should stop and wait. I was hoping that the tactic would work this time.

As we passed back towards the east again, we saw two bikes on the right in a lot. It was really dark and I couldn’t see the bikes well. I was still looking for three bikes. We passed by just as somebody stood up and waved so we turned around and went back to the parking lot that was near a peer. At this point, I really had to go to the bathroom.

The two bikes were ours. It was Uncle Lou and Aunt Jeanie and Mikey and his wife. My bro was nowhere around. I was thinking he was off searching for us like we were searching for him. Maybe that HAD been his bike we saw at the station. At that point, as calm as I’d been feeling, everything about the trip started boiling inside of me. I could feel my face getting red and my temper rising. I was ready to tear into these assholes. I got off the bike and deliberately took my helmet off, staring at them the whole time, and then put it on the back of the bike.

As I walked over to the little group, I took off my riding gloves. Somebody was going to pay.

“Where’s Bill?” Mikey asked before I could lay into them.

That took me back for a moment, “Whatta ya’ mean, ‘where’s Bill’? He was with you guys.”

“No he wasn’t.” Uncle Lou said defensively.

“Bullshit! You all took off like bats out of hell and he was right with you all the way. Mer said he was still with you when they turned back to find us!” Dammit, this was really pissing me off. The people that ran off couldn’t even stay together.

“No. Right after Mer peeled off, he slowed down and stopped on the side of the road to wait. We figured he was with you.” Uncle Lou had stood up and was downing a coke.

“Well, we didn’t find him and we’ve been looking the whole way for you all. How come you didn’t stop when you noticed we were gone, dammit?” Blood was starting to pound and I smacked my gloves on my leg.

“We did. We stopped and waited for you by the exit for an hour. We finally came on down when you didn’t show up. We knew you had a map.”

I could see how this was shaping up. It was OUR fault these assholes had left us. They didn’t do anything wrong. Right. “Well, I don’t know what freaking exit you were waiting at, but when we got to the exit, no one was there. Besides, you all should have stopped long before that. That was another 30 minutes after we were separated.”

“You should have kept up.” Uncle Lou said and that just pissed me off and pissed Robert off and Mer and Candy. I could feel the air temperature rising. Mikey just kept sitting on the curb with his wife keeping his mouth shut.

“Kept up?! Kept up?! You guys were doing over a hundred and Candy’s windshield started coming off so we had to stop. She ended up throwing the damn thing in a ditch since we didn’t have anyplace to keep it. You all kept talking about staying together the whole trip and you ran off and left us! Two chics on bikes in the middle of bum fuck Louisiana. How long have you been here?” I was seething and now we were going to have to make a search party and find my bro. I was worried because his pipes were really loud and cops loved to harass him for it. I could just see the altercation if he was lost somewhere in Mississippi after these jackasses left him and his wife nowhere in site.

This was getting worse by the minute.

Aunt Jeanie finally piped up, “We’ve been here about 15 minutes. Did you just get here?”

“No,” I said irritated, “we’ve been here about an hour driving up and down the road looking for you thinking you got here first.”

“What exit did YOU take?” Aunt Jeanie asked.

“Exit one. The one you circled on the map and said, “to highway”---. That was the scenic route, right?” I mean, we did have a big discussion about it at the gas station. I can’t believe nobody was taking the right exit.

“We took the Oxford exit.” Aunt Jeanie said, “See, Lou. I told you we went too far.”

“Well, you were the one with the map.” He waved his hand with the soda agitatedly as if to say “not his problem”. I was wondering if this meant he was asleep at the handlebars. The exits were plainly marked.

“Well, we took exit one. Do you know what exit Bill took?” There were three main exits that would lead you down into Gulf Port and I had a suspicion Bill had taken exit #2.

“No. He dropped back before we hit that exit.” Aunt Jeanie had went to the back of the truck and was digging for some water.

“Well, that’s just great. We’ll need to go looking for him just in case he’s parked on the side of the road like us, waiting. You all stay here in case he drives by. Mer, drive the truck since I’ll need to watch the road.” It was now about 9:30 pm and we’d been up and traveling for 12 hours. It was very dark.

“Hey! I’ll go with you.” Mikey’s latent sense of responsibility kicked, finally.

After a quick bathroom break, I jumped on the bike once more and started driving slowly down the boulevard by the beach, looking for a bike while simultaneously trying to watch the other side of the road, separated by a grassy median strip and palm trees, for a bike as well. Every loud bike had my ears perking up. Again we drove down to the Biloxi city limits and turned back. Part of me was thinking about going down into Biloxi just to see if he’d gone the wrong way, but I decided to keep looking in Gulf Port a little longer since the signs were clearly marked for the cities and he had to know where he was at.

We took two turns around the city, stopping each time to see if they’d seen Bill.

At that point, I’d given up hope and was thinking that he had some sort of problem with the bike and we were going to have to farther a field to find him. Mer suggested that, if Bill had problems he might have called back to Kansas City and let them know, so we should call my dad.

Yeah, right. I could just imagine that conversation, “Dad? Yeah, it’s me, Kat. The trip? Freaking fantastic so far. Hey, have you heard from Bill, ‘cause we lost him.”

By this time it was 10pm and I was dragging major ass. As much as I didn’t want to, the call back to Kansas City seemed like a more and more productive idea. It was a conduit for everyone. I knew Bill didn’t have a cell phone and neither did I. If he had problems, I wanted to know where he was so we could go pick him up.

“Mer. Why don’t you call dad and see if Bill called him?” Yes, I was passing the buck.

“Call your dad? No way.” Mer was shaking her head. “You call him. He’s not going to yell at me for this crap.”

“Com’on, Mer. He’s not going to give you as much crap as he’s going to give me after telling me a hundred times to look out for him.” I was sure that Bill had gotten the same lecture. My dad insisted that we always look out for one another. A call home was going to bite. Mer had “new daughter in law” status with immunity. “Com’on. Take one for the Gipper.”

“I’ll call him, but if he starts yelling at me, I’m giving YOU the phone and YOU can explain it to him.”

I knew I could talk her around, “I’ll explain it to him alright. I wasn’t the one that ran off and left people.” We walked over to the pay phone and Mer placed a collect call to my dad.

“Yeah, Lar..,” she took a calming puff of her cigarette, “have you heard from Bill tonight? Why? Because we got separated and now we don’t know where Bill is. What?” She held the phone away from her ear and I could hear my dad talking loudly through the phone. I should have made the call. I would have been much more diplomatic about it. “Here, you take the phone. I’m not talking to him.” She held the phone out to me.

I took the phone and was ready to blast off at the slightest hint that any of this was my fault, “Dad? Dad! Just tell me if you’ve heard from Bill or not, okay? I need to see if we need to go help him. What? Listen, dammit, I was the one that got left behind. Me and Candy while these other assholes took off like they were drag racing and didn’t come back, including Bill. Mer even turned around with the truck to find us and Bill kept going with them. It’s not my damn fault they all separated after that!” How many times do I have to say how pissed off I was?

My dad told me he hadn’t heard from Bill, but we should go get a hotel room and call him back from there so he had a number to give Bill if he did call. I thought that was a good idea. Then he asked me why I was making a collect call when Lou and Jeanie had two cell phones. That ticked me off all over again, “They have cell phones?” I was giving them the evil eye right then, contemplating jumping across the parking lot and beating the crap out of somebody. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

“Just call me when you get to the hotel.” Dad finished and hung up without letting me say anything else.

I slammed down the phone and turned to Lou and Jeannie who had heard the conversation. “The phones are in a bag in the truck. We didn’t want to use them because we’d incur roaming charges.”

That would have sounded reasonable at some other time, but right then I was thinking what a bunch of asswipes I was related to. We had phones the whole time. Both of them in the truck. No use to anyone. What a load of shit. “Whatever. Dad had a good idea. We need to get some hotel rooms so I can give the number to dad in case Bill calls. Mer, why don’t you take the truck over and get us some rooms.” I had paid for the camping spaces and they had already agreed to pay for our hotel rooms. “I’ll stay here and keep looking for Bill in case he drives by.”

“I’ll stay with you, Kat,” Mikey volunteered, handing his wife some money, “Get us a room, too.”

Everyone slowly got up and started getting their gear together. Aunt Jeannie pointed to a little motel across the road and suggest the closer the better. Everyone took off except Mer in the truck, Mikey and me. Mer wanted to stand there and just smoke a cigarette, far away from those other folks for a while. Mikey would have got the same treatment, but he’d wisely been quiet and volunteering for duty that gave him some absolution.

As we stood there, we watched dozens of other bikes go by. Every time one sounded like Bill we’d raise our hands to wave, only to lower them again when we’d see it wasn’t him. Usually, it was some older guy on a dressed out Harley, enjoying the nice summer evening. Finally, I shooed Mer over to the hotel and told her to call dad with a number. I might go looking for Bill again if he didn’t show up soon. It was now almost 11 pm.

Just as Mer jumped into the truck, I heard a loud bike and saw it coming out of the darkness from the east. There was Bill on his tricked out Intruder. All of us started jumping up and down, waving and yelling. Mikey gave out a big two fingered whistle. It seemed like he was going to drive by so I prepared to jump on my bike and chase him down, when I saw him veer into the turning lane and come around.

Finally, he’d made it and I felt a big load of relief off my shoulders.

He drove into the lot, shut down his bike and got off quickly, jerking off his helmet and glasses. Mer, Mikey and I started walking over to him, “Dude! Thank God you made it! We’ve been driving up and down this place looking for you. When did you get here?”

He slammed his helmet down on the right mirror. He looked like he was going to explode, “I’ll tell you what. This is fucking bullshit! Everybody ran off and left me. I had to drive around in the dark with my prescriptions sunglasses and I almost wrecked twice. Fucking Wal-mart almost called the cops on me because I was acting all pissed in the lobby trying to call dad and they made me leave. I had to go down to a station and call him. Mer! We’re going to get our shit and leave. Tonight. I’m done with this crap, you hear me. All these fucking assholes.”

Mer and Mikey wore shocked expressions and I was getting pissed again, “Now wait a damn minute. You ran off with them, too and left Candy and me in BFE. There’s no need to run off tonight while you’re pissed. We’re getting hotel rooms across the way and you can decide what to do tomorrow.”

“Fuck that! We’re leaving tonight.” He was pacing up and down beside his bike.

“Com’on, Bill. We’re all hungry and tired. Let’s at least go over to the hotel. Then we can decide what to do.” Mer was trying to be reasonable.

“Yeah, dude. Com’on. Let’s not stand out in the parking lot all night. I’m tired.” Mikey joined in as he went to his bike.

I was walking towards my bike, too. I figured we could carry on this conversation over at the hotel.

My grandma always said to be careful what you wished for.

Bill got on his bike and we drove the block to the hotel. When he parked, Candy, Robert, Aunt Jeanie and Mikey’s wife were unloading stuff from the back of the truck. Uncle Lou was nowhere around.

“We got your hotel room for you.” Candy said handing me the keys.

“Thanks.” I really didn’t see what was coming next.

Bill kicked his kickstand down, walked over to the truck and started pulling their stuff out of it, “Mer! Get the goddamn bungee cords. We’re leaving.”

Everybody was like, “What?”

“Dude, you don’t need to drive. It’s 11 at night and you’re pissed. Just come into the hotel room and get some rest. You can decide what to do tomorrow.” I was trying to calm him down.

“No! We’re fucking leaving. I’m tired of this stupid shit. Everybody always fighting and then running off without making sure we’re all together talking about it for days on end. That’s just ignorant! Com’on, get the crap, Mer!” Bill was yelling at Mer and it wasn’t her fault at all. The people with the most culpability included him. Mer started to cry.

“Dude, I’m serious. You’re in no condition to drive all pissed off. You might wreck and hurt yourself and Mer, then you’d feel like shit.” I put my hand on the duffel bag he was pulling out and he jerked it away.

“I’m leaving. I’m not staying with all these assholes.” A general slapping of the paint brush that immediately had everyone’s back up and all of them speaking at the same time trying to defend their actions.

Candy chose that moment to defend her dad after saying all kinds of crap about them on the side of the road, “Hey! Don’t call my dad an asshole. This is his trip! If you don’t like it, go on with yourself!”

Bill threw his duffel bag in the back of the truck and glared across the back of the truck where Candy was pulling stuff out of the cab, “This isn’t your DAD’S trip. This is OUR trip. WE all saved our money to go on this trip and WE should have stayed together instead of people getting a hair up their ass and throwing fucking fits.”

“No! It’s dad’s trip. It might be the last one he takes,” he was having more and more problems with his diabetes. Neuropathy was setting in his toes and his heart was acting up. But it wasn’t getting him any sympathy that night.

The next thing I knew, they were in each other’s faces yelling. Bill was throwing his hands around, slamming his hands down on the truck. People were coming out of the rooms on the second floor and hanging over the balcony. “Look at the crazy white boy. Man, he’s crazy. Twanda, come out here and watch this shit.”

I was so damned embarrassed. I kept trying to get Bill to chill out and go inside the hotel room. About this time, a little Asian man came out of the office door with a phone in his hand and started yelling, “I call police. I call police.”

Oh, crap. Mikey quickly walked over to the man, “No. No police. It’s a family thing. It’s family. No police.”

I grabbed Bill’s arm and jerked him back, “Dude, shut the hell up! Do you wanna go to jail in fucking Mississippi?”

He turned on me jerking away, “I don’t give a fuck! I’m leaving!”

“You’re not leaving when you’re pissed off.” I yelled as I watched Mer jerk the keys out of his bike right in front of his eyes.

“What the fuck? You think that’ll keep me here? I’ll fucking take a bus.” He grabbed his jacket and started stomping away.

“Good, you leave. I call police.” The Asian man had his finger by the numbers.

“No. No police. We’ll take care of it.” Mikey was still running interference.

Candy was still running her mouth, “This is my dad’s trip…” she went on while Robert grabbed her arm and started dragging her into their hotel room.

Mer started crying, “He’s leaving me.”

“Babe, he’ll be back. Don’t worry. Let’s get in the hotel.” I put my arm around her and hugged her.

“He’s gotta extra key. He’ll come back and take the bike and leave me here.” She was really crying now.

“Let’s go push his bike up with the others and lock it in with the others. He won’t be able to get out.” We locked his bike in and went into the room. “Hey. Are you hungry? It’s almost midnight. What the hell can we get at midnight?”

“Taco Bell?” She sniffled and dried her eyes.

“Okay. Let’s go get some tacos.” We knocked on everybody’s doors and got food orders.

When we got back, Bill was sitting in the room chatting with Robert. Fortunately, we’d gotten some extra food for him. Everybody sat down and started chowing down.

Finally, quiet.

“Dude, did you see that manager guy? “I call police. I call police.”” Everybody giggled.

“No. The best was those chics hanging over the balcony, “Twanda, come out hair. You gotta see this crazy white boy.””

“Where’s Bill?” “I dunno? I thought he was with you?” “I dunno, I thought he was with you!”

This is what it’s like to be lost in space, finally touch down somewhere you know nothing about and realize that you are just not going to escape it anytime soon.

There was certainly no escaping this trip. We were half way through.

Day 5, still alive.

There are miracles after all.

Lost in space.

Summary only...

Not In My Town: Rabbi and Neo Nazi Scuffle KCI Airport

Back in March, I related a story about the Aryan Nation wanting to set up shop in Kansas City. Due to "personal reasons" the person who was to head up this movement decided that he could not do it after all.

All the better since a big bruhaha was going to go down if they did. Several synagogues and other minority associations were planning protests and readying for a legal and propaganda battle.

Monday evening I was watching the news and they reported this incident:

A rabbi and a man wearing Nazi insignias were cited for disorderly conduct Sunday after an alleged fight at Kansas City International Airport. (...)

Go to the inner sanctum for additional information.

The incident occurred about 5:40 p.m. in Terminal C when Fine encountered Boswell, who was wearing a red shirt with a swastika logo and a necklace with a swastika on it, according to airport police reports.

“I told him that he should be ashamed himself for wearing those symbols in public,” Fine said Monday from New York.

According to the police report, Boswell responded by calling Fine “unhuman.”

The report said Fine, who was wearing a black business suit and yarmulke, then threw a cup of coffee at Boswell and punched him in the face.

But Fine said Monday that the fight occurred about 10 minutes after he initially encountered Boswell.

“He walked up to me and got in my face,” Fine said. “I was scared for my physical safety. I did what I felt I had to do.”

According to the report, Boswell repeatedly punched Fine in the head. An off-duty Kansas City police officer separated the two before airport police arrived.

This bothered me. Mainly because I've lived here more than 2/3 of my life and I don't recall any such incidents occuring. But, what was more disturbing was this:

Boswell had driven one of the convention speakers to the airport to catch a plane, said Jeff Schoep, commander of the National Socialist Movement, the group that sponsored the gathering.

The National Socialist Movement calls itself “an organization dedicated to the preservation of our proud Aryan heritage and the creation of a nationalist socialist society in America and around the world.”

The American Nazi Party or Natioinal Socialist Movement had it's convention in my town. I was extremely shocked to learn this. No one knew this was going on? It's not important anymore? How is it that my grandfather and his brothers fought against Nazi aggression and these people still exist believing that they hold some false purity of race as if every race on the face of this earth isn't a mongrel breed of some sort? Particularly in America where most people are from different nations and whose ancestors, if they have lived here long enough, probably have Mexican, Indian, Jewish and African ancestory some where in their blood or family tree.

I decided to look up this group and see what they were about, how big, and where this "convention" was held. I wanted to know if it was on public property like the convention center.

When I logged on to their site National Socialist Movement, the first thing that came up was a full screen moving graphic of waving nazi flags, Nazis marching and Nazi Eagles with the words "Fighting for Race and Nation."

I also noted the infamous "88" as part of their website URL. This is the code that represents "HH" as "H" is the eigth letter in the alphabet. Two H's together stands for "Heil Hitler".

88 is often found on hate group flyers, in both the greetings and closing comments of letters written by neo-Nazis, and in e-mail addresses.

They leave out a few other areas, like tattoos. If you see the numbers 88 tattooed on someone they are a member of a white suppremist group. Additionally, clothing or other paraphernalia may carry this is insignia.

Getting past the distrubing graphic, I entered the site and the first graphics at the top were even more disturbing. A shield with the American flag overlayed with a swastika was on the top bar with an image of Hitler giving the heil salute overlayed on a Nazi Eagle and right below that was an image of the American flag and bald eagle.

This group has equated beloved symbols of my country with Nazi imagery.

A huge notice was posted on the first page when I first went to the site:

The NSM officially condemns Fairleigh-Dickinson University for engaging in acts of left-wing McCarthyism.

This past Monday, Professor Jacques Pluss, was removed from his teaching position at this university apparently for no other reason than being a member of the NSM.

Well, finally the crazy people from both sides of the aisle finally have something they can agree on: McCarthyism, the cry of every disengenuous criminal group who would see the destruction of our liberal democracy. They are being discriminated against and not allowed their free speech.

I'm often amazed by these people who think they can engage in this activity and continue to be supported by tax payer dollars. They do it under the guise of "freedom of speech".

Interestingly, the graphic is in Support of Professor Jacques Pluss who was a speaker at this so called convention in Kansas City and was the very person that Bowman was dropping off at the airport when the incident occurred. The first page was later changed to report their version of the Kansas City incident:

Freedom of Speech Attacked In Kansas City

When Jews wear their skull caps around town, they expect to proceed without being attacked. They are simply making a public statement of their Judaism.

However, when an NSM member wore a Swastika T shirt in the Kansas City International Airport, demonstrating our beliefs, a local Rabbi took offense, first making number of insulting comments as he walked repeatedly past the NSM man.

Finally the Rabbi got up some courage and went up to our NSM man and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he ought to bow down and apologise to all humanity for the Nazis. When our man responded with a "What the..." he was cut off in mid reply by having a cup of near boiling coffee thrown in his face, and then the jew proceeded to attack him.

Can you have freedom of speech and expression in Kansas? Or are we only free to say what the so called "chosen people (jews)" allow?

As they have for at least 30 years, the white power people have adopted the "eternal victim" language made so popular by the left.

The NSM is also the group known as the American Nazi Party that was in the news in January this year when Marion County Oregon road crews put up two signs that indicated the American Nazi Party was adopting a stretch of highway.

"Our hands are pretty much tied from a legal standpoint," said Marion County Commissioner Patti Milne. "This has been very difficult, but the bottom line is they are entitled to participate."

"We can't pick and choose what parts of the constitution to follow," said Milne, a former Republican state legislator.

On their side bar, the NSM makes this statement:

It's a long way from Marion County, Oregon to the White House in Washington DC, almost as far as you can go in this country without getting your feet wet, but it's a journey the National Socialist Movement plan to make.

In other words they are seeking a way to place their name out as a legitimate group using freedom of speech as their shield in the same way that the KKK and other hate groups have used it to put on public rallies.

A short article on the convention uses similar language and tone of Hitler speeches and also seeks to propagandize by not giving specific details of the convention such as the true number of attendees which appears to be very small, but gets big round language:

Over seventy of them had traveled from as far away as Southern California, Oregon, Ohio, New Jersey, Virginia and South Carolina to be present during this marvelous and most productive Conference.

On women attendees:

So purified was their appearance, they exemplified the perfect example of what the women of The Third Reich had been; pure at heart, mind and soul!

It goes without saying that as our glorious NSM continues to grow, there will be hundreds of thousands of women who will be donning this most impressive uniform and the current women deserve the recognition that they have strenuously earned.

Purified? By this writing I would suggest that the number of women in attendence was probably six.

On men attending:

I was completely astonished by the large number of SS men that we currently have.

Large number? Without the number this page should tell you that they are a very small group.

The writer then closes his report:

Each of us will be rewarded by the knowledge that we have succeeeded in accomplishments, for then we become aware of how vital our perfomances are to bring total victory for our most sacred CRUSADE!

Look not to satisfy your ego, for our goal is to WIN back this nation of OURS, regardless of the sacrifices we must endure!.


HEIL HITLER!

If read the site it has several odds and ends stories that are basically conspiracy theories, particularly about the Jews and Israel. The one that almost made me spit my soda out with laughter was implying that the two Israelis arrested last year for attempting to obtain New Zealand Passports illegally were Mossad agents sent to assassinate the Prime Minister, Helen Clark. They then post a list of alleged "Mossad Agents Down Under" with their aliases. Of course, they have their 9/11 conspiracy about the missing Jews from the WTC and you should know that all of your calls are being tracked and recorded by Israel.

I had no idea that Israel was so darned active and well organized. You know of course they are actively oppressing the Palestinians, tracking every known Nazi group while simultaneously plotting to take over the world?

They come standard with your usual disclaimer about the holocaust.

I used to think this could not exist in my town, but it does. It exists in towns all over the United States. It is not just the youth who are drawn to these organizations. I don't know what would draw someone to such an organization, but I find myself continuously surprised about people in general.

The altercation that took place at the air port was between a local Rabbi and a neo-nazi that lives in Olathe, Kansas. To get an idea of what Olathe is like, it used to be a small country town that was about 35 minutes outside the Kansas City limits. With expansion in Kansas City, Olathe became a sought after location for the suburbanites. They moved away from the downtown areas and left Wyandotte County for greener pastures. Olathe is now a mix of old Queen Anne and Victorian homes with wrap around porches, ranch homes and several very new enclaves where the homes start at $250k and go upward.

In the last 30 years, crime from burglaries and drug sales has increased significantly. The oldest part of town, like many others, serves lower income families, largely white and hispanic.

Looking over the internet, I was unable to findout exactly where this alleged convention took place with more than 70 members.

Just because it isn't always in our faces, doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

I only wish that it wasn't in my town.

Summary only...

I Know, I Know

You're waiting for Beverly Hill Billy Bikers Day 5. Just hold your shirts. I saw the article in my earlier post and just had to respond because it ticked me off.

So, go read it, drink your coffee and I'll get you the next installment later this evening.

Summary only...

Yamin Zakaria: Freedom and Women's Liberation Over Rated

I'm not going to lie to you, this is long. I could have made it longer by responding to every point. It's serious and snarky at the same time.

Reading at LGF I noted a posted article from Yamin Zakaria, a graduate of London University, who attempts to explain how Islam is actually the protector of women’s rights, that it is western society that abuses women’s rights and that the attempts by many in his religion to relate secularist ideas of these rights to Qu’ranic teachings is abhorrent and destructive to Islam and Women.

I believe the title of his work speaks volumes: ”Women’s Rights” Has No Legitimacy In Islam

Man or woman, you should take the time to read his entire article, though I will be providing parts of it here with my response.

If you have time to read, go to the inner sanctum.

Upon reading the article myself, the first thing I noted was the authors own attempts at using the language of “rights” and “protection” to justify his own views, something he liberally accuses the west and many “feminists in Hijabs with their male counterparts on leashes” of doing.

Consequentially, this has helped to foster an apologetic mindset whereby the continuous apologizing for Islam manifests in reinterpreting its laws and values to satisfy the secular criticisms. So the Muslim response is always from a defensive posture.

In a very real sense, his type of language and near reasoning tempts alleged liberals and certain feminist groups on the left to lend direct and tacit support to the existence of the oppression of women in Islamic societies.

He first takes on the question of whether it is the Hijab or the bikini that liberates a woman:

Post 9/11, the firepower of the West was going to be a liberating force for the women in Afghanistan. However, the honourable women of Afghanistan did not strip their veils for the miniskirt. In frustration, the media attempted to kick-start the process of ‘liberation’ by parading a semi-nude US-based Afghani woman in a human cattle market, i.e. a beauty contest.

On first glance, if you are a “real” feminist, his rant against beauty pageants might stir a sympathetic chord in your breast. Of course, if you said “breast” in his ideal society, you’d be beaten with a cane for daring suggest that such an anatomical object exists, but I digress. In answer to this hilarious commentary, if one must compare anything, it would be the traditional selling of the female to prospective buyers..er..grooms via a male relative who most likely describes her feminine attributes, propounds on her fine feminine abilities, such as cooking, cleaning and taking care of the home. What he objects to isn’t really the selling of a woman’s body in such a manner, but the idea that it is “semi-nude” and not done by her closest male relative as this some somehow implies respectability. We’ll get to why that really bothers him in a second, but he does try to sell his own idea by subscribing them to women’s rights and protection against objectification as if this does not exist in a “real” Islamic society.

The one thing that we probably agree on is Hollywood’s lousy film making, but for wholly separate reasons. His:

Further inducement would follow in the form of a Hollywood blockbuster where the all American hero would seduce an ‘oppressed’ Muslim woman out of the veil into an adulterous relationship, symbolizing her ‘liberation’!

Yes, Hollywood is an anathema to responsible culture there as well. In which case, something tells me I will never rail against Hollywood again.

If stripping your clothes off to appeal to the male gender is a symbol of liberation, then surely the lap dancers, strippers, porn actresses and the likes must epitomize the concept of a liberated woman.

Ahhh…here he speaks to the true feminists who find both these professions and beauty pageants to be repugnant and equal in nature to objectifying women. Further, he lays all of these ills on Judeo-Christian-Western religions and culture, clearing Islam and noting that any practices by Islamic societies are not about Islam, but the backwardness of their tribal cultures. The classic cry of current Islamists: this is not Islam, Islam is…(fill in the blank)

Of course, belly dancers, concubines and selling your daughter, niece, sister, etc for a price does not equate. Remember that.

Evil unto him who evil thinks.

Such arguments tend to indicate that woman’s rights are always tied to her ability to appear in scanty revealing clothes as opposed to her education or other achievements in life.

Um..no…only to the writer of this piece who clearly believes that, if he sees a woman’s body, he will forget that she has a brain as well, which is no different than western males on many occasions, but at least they don’t try to fool themselves by insisting that it be hidden under a blanket, burqa, veil, or hijab.

It does seem ironic that ‘emancipated’ women spend most of their energies trying to titillate to the opposite sex in their clothes, makeup and diet; - thus emancipation it seems has only increased their dependency on the male gender!

So, if I am reading this right, using your physical attractions to attract a mate means that women are dependent on men anyway, completely forgetting that in secular societies where women have real rights, they have the right to remain single, as am I, and support themselves, the right to work and contribute to the household finances (and frequently do so above the contribution of their male counterparts) if married and the right to equally voice their opinion and direct the expenditures and daily life of their entire family unit. This last part may be true in many Islamic households, but it is not overt and, certainly, as this author goes on to explain later, women are still subject to the direction of their husbands as the final word.

There in lies the difference. While our Islamic friend focuses on the clothes as the definition of emancipation, no western woman would ever subscribe to that and he completely ignores the fact that permanent relationships, whether in an Islamic society or western Judeo-Christian society are not built on physical attributes, however they may serve as an initial conduit to introduction.

Our friend also studiously avoids the fact that women in Islamic cultures, having their marriage arranged and their hand sold, without engaging her emotions or her mind or developing affection before hand and subsequently engaging in sexual acts with her is similarly objectifying the woman as nothing more than a vessel to be used at the buyers whim. No amount of dressing it up with pretty words like marriage, respect and protection changes that.

So, how did one conclude that is where the border of decency and indecency lies? After all, we were all born naked and we will also leave this world naked. Thus, the most pertinent question is; - why the minimum dress code enforced by the secular societies any more correct than the limits imposed by the Islamic Sharia?

Well, since our erstwhile writer doesn’t know the difference between minimum dress codes and the limits imposed by Islamic Sharia, I’ll explain it to him. Nobody in recent history has been sentenced to death, caning or imprisonment in a western court nor had a family member perform an honor killing nor been beaten by their husband who is subsequently legally cleared because their or his honor was besmirched.

You’d think this guy would know that having went to London University.

Polygamous relationships pre-dates Islam, it existed in Judeo-Christian traditions and most other religions and cultures. Therefore, why target Islam specifically on this issue of polygamy.

Because it’s no longer legal in western society? Because polygamy in Islamic cultures is usually at the direction of a male guardian and would be spouse and not the choice of the woman? Because it is hardly ever based on affection or care for the woman so much as the prestige of the groom and the family giving her hand to such an arrangement?

. I do find it astonishingly hypocritical for the West to incessantly argue against polygamy when one would hard pressed to find a virtuous monogamous man amongst them! Do they seriously think that the upright ‘monogamous’ West is on some sort of moral crusade confronting the ‘depraved’ polygamous Islam? Only the arrogant hypocrite would refuse to see the contradiction of criticising legalised polygamy with its detailed rules setting out the rights and obligations while permitting all sorts of sexual activities using the license of: ‘sexual freedom’!

Because, it means, no matter how much the Qu’ran or Shariah law admonishes the husband to do otherwise, she will be treated as a second or third or fourth class citizen in the household instead of an equal partner (he hates this by the way) with her husband? Because many women in these situations find themselves abandoned later for a younger, prettier woman, who, with all legality in place, is still purchased as an object to serve the husband’s needs and hardly ever for an altruistic or romantic reasons and, just like in any monogamous relationship, if the spouse or mate leaves the older spouse or mate for another, younger prettier woman, it is a sign of disrespect to that woman regardless of legal ties.

The only difference is, in the liberated western society, if the spouse does disrespect his wife in such a manner she can divorce him post-haste and find someone that will respect and care for her or just go on and, finally liberated, take care of herself without requiring assistance from a man.

What’s funny is that he is trying to tell us about how western society is more immoral because we do the same thing, we just don’t dress it up in legal language or binding agreements attempting in real time to make you believe that women in Islamic polygamous legal relationships are never abandoned by their husbands, but cared for as a respected member of his family, always.

If you believe that, I’ve got a bridge I want to sell you in Brooklyn. Islamic society might frown on it, but there is certainly little censure applied to the man if he does so, yet the woman is left without resources and without respect since, in Islamic societies, marriage demands the spouse be responsible for her and, if he doesn’t, she is without a guardian which is somehow the woman’s fault.

A direct consequence of sexual-freedom has been constant expansion of the boundaries of sexual taboos, permitting and encouraging sexual activities that involve multiple partners in the form of open relationships to sordid orgies and the likes.

Oh, yes, that’s right, everyone in western society has participated in an orgy or two. He knows so little about western society except what he learned by going to a liberal university in London where hormones were raging. It must have scared him to no end to find that his ideal of manhood might not jive with the rest of the world, and, finding himself lacking, proceeds to attempt insulation by demanding that his way is much more manly and morally upright.

Of course, no one in an Islamic society would do such a thing. If they did they aren’t true Muslims because Islam is…(fill in the blank). Never mind the fact that history is full of Islamic notables who had vast harems and any number of wives, concubines and sex slaves, including the Prophet Mohammed. Our friend would have us believe that Islam somehow instantaneously bestows immutable virtues on its male adherents who would never consider participating in such an activity. That is, if they are true Muslims.

Yes, I am applying Mr. Zakarais’s own technique to his most favored subject Muslims. The entirety of the article is an attempt by Zakaria to use his teeny-weeny paint by numbers brush to slather on a wide smear of black paint on freedom and democracy while simultaneously using a very large house painting brush to white wash Islamic society so you won’t notice that base animal instincts and desires reside in Muslim humans as much as they do in Western, Christian, Judeo, secular free humans.


Never mind that we know currently that slavery and the use of slaves as sexual objects exists, that there are hookers and johns who are from Islamic societies and most likely proclaim themselves Muslim.

Yet again, I hear the echo, “This isn’t Islam, Islam is…(fill in the blank).”

Even more, a man can make an appearance on a national TV-show announcing that he has boyfriend to his wife or that he is literally in love with his dog or any other forms of perversion as long as it is not a second wife! Such sensitivity reminds me of how the Romans found no issue with the exhibition of the male genitals as long as it was not circumcised!

Okay, he’s got us there. Who would have thought that Jerry Springer would have been so damned popular? But, and it’s a big but, I personally do not know anyone on who ever watched Jerry Springer or similar shows and said, “Look, that guy is in love with his dog, I guess I can be in love with my dog, too.” Mr. Zakaria misses the whole point of these programs. It is hardly a place to gain acceptance so much as a place to be ridiculed publicly and shown to be a moron and a scumbag. And I wonder if Mr. Zakaria understands in his little diatribe, he just did equate having a second wife to being in love with your dog. If one is acceptable, why not the other?

A very foolish argument to use since neither is truly acceptable and Mr. Zakaria is being intellectually dishonest by trying to convince anyone that it is. Of course, you must first understand the audience he is writing for to understand how they would accept this dishonesty, hook line and sinker without a blink because it fits in with their pre-conceived notions.

Talk about your propaganda Mr. Zakaria, for shame.

Power of propaganda is so immense that many of the Muslim apologists have started to deny the existence of a restricted practice of polygamy in Sharia laws. A classic and an idiotic argument to deny Polygamy is that they say: Islam has obliged you to give equal treatment to all your wives and since this is not possible, a task beyond human capacity, hence, Polygamy is only a theoretical possibility. I do not understand why God would permit Polygamy if it is beyond the ability of the male gender! Why GOD would pronounce such meaningless statements? I guess you have to have the ‘wisdom’ of the apologists to understand such pronouncements or neo-Ijtehad!

Here in lies the difficulty. Mr. Zakaria believes that God spoke to Mohammed directly and instructed him that polygamy is acceptable. Now this is a man of true faith. A man who, having been educated in a modern university, chooses to ignore the reality the period, tribal affiliations and political struggle of Mohammed and how that may have influenced him to interpret said words to his benefit. Of course, in doing so, one would have to recognize that Mohammed was not solely driven by a divine entity and would some how reduce his faith in God because the word of God as written in the Qu’ran is immutable.

Never mind that, as Mr. Zakaria already notes it was a practice long held by tribes in that region and around the world (American Indian tribes, Chinese, Japanese, Celts, you name it) before and for centuries after and was already practiced by the tribes most influenced by Mohammed. Never mind that in Mohammed’s time, the protection of the tribe was the ultimate necessity and keeping and caring for women and their offspring within that structure and harsh reality was served by this practice. And, never mind that it allowed Mohammed to take many wives and concubines from his own tribes and those that were conquered in order to tie those tribes more closely to him (a practice that was used in western and Asian culture for centuries, still used in less advanced cultures and some western monarchies).

The difference is that it is no longer a necessity and that this practice only has two implications in today’s world: political/blood ties between tribes and the male gender’s tool to satisfy his own desires. Nothing so grand or so necessary except by the word of men. Further driving a wedge between Mr. Zakarias’s belief that the strictures placed on women are for their benefit and protection and do not objectify women like western culture.

Nothing else I say after this would ever affect Mr. Zakaria’s opinion because all of these things are the word of God. As if Islam was the first religion to proclaim the subjugation of women or the allowance of some other oppressive practice as handed down to them by a higher authority. Railing against Judaism and Christianity, he falls back on the very same arguments that they have used in the past.

Now we come to my favorite parts:

Muslim women are imprisoned, denied choices under the Islamic laws while the emancipated Western women are free, having endless choices. But what are those choices and what is the implication for the society if the individuals are given those choices. Choice is not intrinsically a virtue, it can bring chaos, and if incorrect choices are made than it causes more harm than good.

In other words, if you no comprende his implications, while he later tells us that women are given the ability to make decisions about some things, they are inherently too stupid to make those decisions because they will most likely make the wrong decisions. Of course, I would be intellectually dishonest if I did not inform you that men also have many restrictions from choice in Islamic society for the exact same reason, but still are considered the arbiters of wisdom above women. Mr. Zakaria denies this and claims that this equality can never exist as women are different than men, have different responsibilities and, therefore, have control over different choices.

Separate, but equal. Where have I heard this argument before? Could it be…segregation? Which is synonymous with discrimination. Of course, he isn’t writing this commentary for your average western citizen. He is really writing it for his fellow Muslims and for the so called “liberals” and “feminist” who are looking for any explanation that would excuse their abandonment of liberal or feminist ideas while supporting a completely opposite philosophy on the grounds of “cultural differences”.

There is no doubt woman’s flesh sells, it makes money like any another commodity in the free market economy. The business of porn and prostitution by its nature is exploitative and degrading regardless of how it is produced, by choice or compulsion. It is predominantly produced to satisfy the lust of the male gender, making the woman a sexual servant while wrapping her with ‘freedom’.

Again, intellectual dishonesty from Mr. Zakarais. First, he is telling everyone that it is “freedom” that makes people buy porn or men go to prostitutes. Secondly, he is telling you that it is overwhelmingly predominant in western society as if half the female populace and half of the male populace in western society indulge in such activities. He already told us, and the rest of the world, particularly, the Islamic world that it is so since we all run around having multiple sex partners and participate in orgies. Third, and of course, he is telling you that this does not happen in Islamic society. Never mind previously mentioned slave trading in women, girls and boys or the private stashes of porn in any Muslim’s home and the brothels and hotels that provide such activities to Muslim men.

They aren’t real Muslims if they do.

Implications are huge, and it contributes towards the growth in sexual crimes, single parent families, drug dependencies etc.

He certainly makes a giant leap with that one. Freedom of choice leads to porn and prostitution that leads to sex crimes, single parent families (how the hell he made that leap I don’t know), drug dependencies, etc. A nice linear line that completely negates the fact that an overwhelming percentage of the western world’s population do not indulge in these activities and, once again telling us and the Muslim world that by adhering to the strictures of Islam, these things wouldn’t happen. Maybe he’s right, even if men were perfect and never strayed, but I highly doubt that Islam produces such perfection. As a matter of fact, >I know it doesn’t.

The UN says maybe, maybe not in Saudi Arabia, but they really can’t tell since it is a closed society and punishment is severe for traffickers who are caught and would tend to lend to the credence that it is more wide spread than acknowledged considering that traffickers don’t do business where business does not exist. Addicts are sent to one of three hospitals for rehabilitation. That is, if they have the right connections. The poor and addicted are no better off there than in any western society. Obviously, a closed and restricted society can never be closed completely and certainly never precludes the vices of men.

The World Health Organization points out alcohol abuse does exist and appears to be on the rise in regards to beer.

And there appears to be a register of Addiction Specialists in Saudi Arabia. One wonders why that is necessary if it is none existent in a closed Islamic society and solely the by-product of freedom.

If I were to list every story that was allowed to come out of Saudi Arabia and other Islamic countries regarding rape, assault and other dastardly crimes perpetuated by Muslim men against women and other weak people in their societies, I’d go on and on, but that isn’t the point. As surely as Mr. Zakaria can look on the internet and find stories of the same in western culture, so, too could we find stories and information that would preclude his claim that such things only happen in free societies.

His only counter claim would be that at least Islam protects future victims by quickly and economically dispatching the criminals with beheadings and other severe punishment. That’s fine as far as it goes, but it apparently does not stop others from doing so.

Further, I’d lay $50 on the fact that these crimes and addictions are under reported simply because it has as much implications for the victim under Sharia law as for the perpetrator.

d).Gender Equality or Gender Harmony
The Gender Equality is a one-dimensional view focusing primarily on the relationship between two adult peers engaged in a marital relationship.

Now, you see, Mr. Zakaria has no real idea what equality means or is in question. Gender equality is not solely about the relationship between a husband and a wife. He goes on:

Also, are there any limits of gender equality? Should the gender differences become totally immaterial in determining the laws and values? If so, eventually, the concept of moms and dads, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives etc. would become meaningless.

He may have some ground with males in western society concerning the “limits” of women. However, he tries to convince us that assigning laws and values based on gender are totally acceptable since lack of it would erase the general concepts we understand in society. Missing, still, the actual meaning of “gender equality”. Mr. Zakarais is skipping around it like a jackrabbit on hot coals because he knows very well that the equality that is being questioned is really equality before the law and that does not mean death for an adulterous woman and five lashes for a man. We are talking about equality in the ability to own property, solely and without co-ownership with a man; equality to conduct business with both genders without a male companion co-signing or chaperoning the event because some man “might” think she was propositioning him (evil unto him who evil thinks); equally able to decide where she lives, what she eats, whom she marries, what she wears and every other activity that men may do on a daily basis, including worshipping God.

Throughout human history, the two genders have generally functioned to complement each other particularly in a husband and wife relationship as opposed to acting as adversaries competing in every sphere. Islam in line with human nature espouses for harmony between two genders and not a full scale war.

Finally, the truth about about Muslim men: they fear competition from women. Nicely couched, of course, in language about nature and harmony.

My question to Mr. Zakaria, “Who is responsible for this possible war? Is it…women?” Because, of course we know that Muslim men only want to protect women and would never do anything to harm them. As long as they played by the rules of Muslim men.

Apart from the idea of woman’s rights it is important to get glimpse of those, in particular the male gender as to how the uphold such lofty values. Men in the West are caught in between by a culture that constantly agitates their sexual instincts and also demands ‘respect’ by complying with certain legal/political standards that is supposed to manifest a non-sexist world.

In other words, it is western culture that causes man’s quandary between sexual drive and “respect”. It couldn’t be because sex is a normal human drive, perpetuated by testosterone and other chemicals? Of course, men are also weak and incapable of controlling themselves. In this, many “real” feminists would agree with Mr. Zakaria.

Their macho minds are filled with a culture of porn with images of women as sexual object transmitted by the lewd pop-fashion-film industry: pieces of flesh to consume.

Macho minds? Pot calling kettle black. Of course, machismo is due to porn and women, men would never imagine acting that way without those.

Consequentially, nominal respect shown by the men is due to the fear of being subjected to the laws of sexual harassment and very little emanates from the hearts and minds.

Yes, in the west, men do not treat women with respect from their hearts and minds but simply because they could be sued or go to jail. Western men should be mightily pissed at this characterization.

And, without providing any statistics:

Rape in the Western society is constantly on the increase, it also prevalent within the army.

Rape has risen since 1960, but is showing a decrease since 1980, yet again, intellectual dishonesty. I’m going to keep saying it because it is the height of idiocy to proclaim the cause to be “freedom”. As pointed out, rape and assault exist in every society. Equally important to note is that closed societies are not any more honest than Mr. Zakaria in reporting crimes.

Had Islam and Muslim men been the real oppressors of women, the feminist movement would have arisen from within the Islamic societies. Indeed, the origin of such movements perhaps reflects where the real oppression of women existed and still exists!

That had to be the funniest and most dishonest comment he wrote. I mean, anybody with half a brain knows that the only reason the feminist movement began in the west is because they didn’t have to fear being murdered for someone’s damaged honor. Further, it came at a time when society applied very similar rules as conservative Islam to women in dress and behavior which means that they did not start out especially free, but struggled for it against the very same arguments that Mr. Zakaria applies except they were quoting the bible. That thought above all should be enough to scare Mr. Zakaria.

The fact that it comes late to Islamic society is no reflection of its alleged “respect” for women so much as now the death of a woman in Islam is no longer hidden and Muslim women can see international support for their movement, emboldening them to demand the rights that Muslim men insist already exist.

No one can explain why Islam supposedly anti-Woman continues to attract more women than men.

Really? I think the question is how many Muslim women leave Islam?

Both, logic and Islamic texts dictates that woman’s rights have no place in Islam, those who speak in its name has the worst track record in violating the rights of womankind.

Oh, there we go…we are not perfect therefore we cannot tell them what is wrong with their society. There is nothing logical about denying women’s rights and if Islamic text denies it, then Islamic text is a dinosaur that will not survive into the next century.

I’d also like to challenge Mr. Zakaria on the point of hijabs and veils allowing women to be judged solely on the fruits of their abilities. If this is so liberating, why don’t Islamic men wear them too? By Mr. Zakaria’s logic, it would free men to be judged “by the fruits of their ability” and further equalize men amongst each other much less between the genders.

All in all, Mr. Zakaria has not laid a convincing argument that Islam frees women so much as he’s convinced me that he and Muslim men are afraid of what will come if women are allowed to choose.

Summary only...