During the past eleven days here in the Muslim world, I have eaten from the same plate, drunk from the same glass, and slept in the same bed (or on the same rug) -- while praying to the same God -- with fellow Muslims, whose eyes were the bluest of blue, whose hair was the blondest of blond, and whose skin was the whitest of white. And in the words and in the actions and in the deeds of the "white" Muslims, I felt the same sincerity that I felt among the black African Muslims of Nigeria, Sudan, and Ghana. We were truly all the same (brothers) -- because their belief in one God had removed the "white" from their minds, the 'white' from their behavior, and the 'white' from their attitude. I could see from this, that perhaps if white Americans could accept the Oneness of God, then perhaps, too, they could accept in reality the Oneness of Man -- and cease to measure, and hinder, and harm others in terms of their "differences" in color.
With racism plaguing America like an incurable cancer, the so-called "Christian" white American heart should be more receptive to a proven solution to such a destructive problem. Perhaps it could be in time to save America from imminent disaster -- the same destruction brought upon Germany by racism that eventually destroyed the Germans themselves.
They asked me what about the Hajj had impressed me the most. . . . I said, "The brotherhood! The people of all races, color, from all over the world coming together as one! It has proved to me the power of the One God. . . . All ate as one, and slept as one. Everything about the pilgrimage atmosphere accented the Oneness of Man under One God.
I saw this yesterday.
The fucking "Q-Anon Shaman" talking to Benny Johnson, and Benny Johnson compares him to Nelson Mandela and says he should run for President someday.
I've always found it funny that these fucking people so desperately want to be seen as the "Freedom fighters." They want to claim to be the modern "counterculture" the "good guys" and a "liberation movement" all while still being These Fucking People.
Bitch, you cannot be both oppressed and oppressor, it just doesn't work that way. You're not a peace movement, you're not struggling for freedom. You fuckers have no understanding of who Nelson Mandela was and what Nelson Mandela did. To do either, you'd have to give a shit about other people.
I was there, nearly everybody outside of the Republican political class and a few old Cold Warriors (who knew that as strategic partners, South Africa wasn't really that important) and racist rednecks was against Apartheid...even most Republicans at the time were. When Reagan vetoed sanctions against South Africa...Congress overrode his veto with a bit over the two-thirds majority needed.These motherfuckers want to spout the same racist and religious bullshit that P.W. Botha said, while claiming the mantle of Nelson Mandela...and they think they might get away with it because some of them do hippie type of shit, or embrace fake shamanistic woo woo and have tattoos.
Because all they care about is checking the "right" alleged boxes, the form of something, how it looks...and then, that part of their fake Godhead appeased, they'll wander off and do what they want anyway...because that's all they've ever done, but too many people let them get away with this shit for too long because they go to church or something.
Fuck all that.
These people don't believe in Christ.
They were the ones shouting "Crucify Him!" in the streets.
They believed in Empire, in Rome, not Jesus. Or at least...they couldn't be bothered to do anything about Rome. And the Powerful among them could not wait to be Slaves To The Caesars, especially if it guaranteed their position.
This is America, and we got thugs in suits and glasses waiting for the Ides of March because they can't wait to shank somebody.
These fucking people appoint the Q-Anon Shaman as their face-man, their front to sound like they're something "different" but then they appoint Mike Schlong here as their actual leader, a dude who quite literally still is a hard line Focus On The Family type antigay motherfucker left over from the 1990's and the early aughts, but who, by the way, has embraced all the racism and other shit that's popped back up since on top of that. Yet he himself both acts and looks like a Larry Craig type gay-stuff scandal in waiting. I used to be a conservative. Nobody who's being honest lays it on this thick with right-wing religious bullshit, Nobody."What?" I said.
"You were just babies in the war— like the ones upstairs!"
I nodded that this was true. We had been foolish virgins in the war, right at the end of childhood.
"But you're not going to write it that way, are you." This wasn't a question. It was an accusation.
"I — I don't know," I said.
"Well I know," she said. "You'll pretend you were men instead of babies, and you'll be portrayed in the movies by Frank Sinatra and John Wayne or some of those other glamorous, war-loving, dirty old men. And war will look just wonderful, so we'll have a lot more of them. And they'll be fought by babies like the babies upstairs." So then I understood. It was war that made her so angry. She didn't want her babies or anybody else's babies killed in wars. And she thought wars were partly encouraged by books and movies.
So I held up my right hand and I made her a promise: "Mary," I said, "I don't think this book of mine is ever going to be finished. I must have written five thousand pages by now, and thrown them all away. If I ever do finish it, though, I give you my word of honor: there won't be a part for Frank Sinatra or John Wayne.
"I tell you what," I said, "I'll call it The Children's Crusade." She was my friend after that.
~From the novel Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
Last PostYou were just babies then!" she said.
"What?" I said.
"You were just babies in the war— like the ones upstairs!"
I nodded that this was true. We had been foolish virgins in the war, right at the end of childhood.
"But you're not going to write it that way, are you." This wasn't a question. It was an accusation.
"I — I don't know," I said.
"Well I know," she said. "You'll pretend you were men instead of babies, and you'll be portrayed in the movies by Frank Sinatra and John Wayne or some of those other glamorous, war-loving, dirty old men. And war will look just wonderful, so we'll have a lot more of them. And they'll be fought by babies like the babies upstairs." So then I understood. It was war that made her so angry. She didn't want her babies or anybody else's babies killed in wars. And she thought wars were partly encouraged by books and movies.
So I held up my right hand and I made her a promise: "Mary," I said, "I don't think this book of mine is ever going to be finished. I must have written five thousand pages by now, and thrown them all away. If I ever do finish it, though, I give you my word of honor: there won't be a part for Frank Sinatra or John Wayne.
"I tell you what," I said, "I'll call it The Children's Crusade." She was my friend after that.
~From the novel Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
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"The fight is here; I need ammunition, not a ride." ~Volodymyr Zelenskyy, allegedly 25 February 2022, Associated Press
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