How to Deal With Islamic Terrorism

Be more terrible than the terrorists. Seriously. It is literally the only thing that has stopped Muslim aggression in the past, so why does The 0! seem to think he can lie to us saying, essentially, all we need to do is beat ourselves over the head and shoulders, wear sackcloth and ashes and cry Woe! for the terrible wrongs we have committed on Muslims by… not submitting to Islam*. Then we can all sit around a campfire singing Kum Ba Yah Allah.

*feh* Although Kipling’s lil tale below does not specifically deal with a response to terrorism (the dead subaltern was after all an active duty soldier in in an area of conflict, not a civilian non-combatant), but it does illustrate the proper method of communicating with brutal savages.

The Grave of the Hundred Head
–Rudyard Kipling

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Although, come to think of it, Kipling was a piker. 1,000-to-1 seems about right to me. Personally, I’d check off on a “monument” of radioactive glass in what was once Mecca big enough to see from the moon. Seems about right to me in return for a millennium and a half of Muslim terrorism. But then, I don’t have that kind of decision making power. Unfortunately. And fortunately, I’m not some raghead splodeydope willing to cut short my stay on this veil of tears to take out non-combatants (although, if one is a believer in the word of Mohamed, one MUST be a combatant, so… )

Trackposted to Rosemary’s Thoughts, Nuke Gingrich, Allie is Wired, Woman Honor Thyself, Right Truth, The World According to Carl, DragonLady’s World, The Pink Flamingo, Leaning Straight Up, , Right Voices, and Gone Hollywood, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

Islam is like the abusive husband who says to his slave urm, wife, “I wouldn’t beat you so hard if you just submitted to me beating you!”