But with the world focused on the death of Osama bin Laden, I feel it necessary to say a few words despite the fact that it has nothing to do with writing.
My husband is a Moslem. Granted, he can guzzle a six-pack faster than a bus load of heretics after a lost soul and finds andouille sausage to be just one bite shy of heaven, nonetheless he’s got an inside tract to those 72 virgins in the sky. (He reminds me of this every so often to keep me in line and I remind he needs to die in the name of Islam and I’m willing to help him achieve that goal.)
Obviously the assassination has sparked some heated discussion in our little house, but in this as many things Muslim we agree. The Navy Seals did a remarkable job executing this mission and we are both thankful that they did not try to capture him. The media would have all Americans believe that the Moslem community is in an uproar over his death and Armageddon will surely commence at this dire and traumatic news.
But that’s simply not true.
Sure, the radicals will twist their long skirts in knots and pull out their beards, but they are not the only Muslims out there. The majority and yes it’s a MAJORITY, of people practicing Islam is every bit as thankful as we are that he’s gone. Unfortunately, the media will only show the nut cases making human firecrackers of themselves.
Many Americans are celebrating his death, and while I don’t feel like popping the cork on a bottle of champagne, (That’s not true, I always feel like champagne) I do understand the need for release.
Has anything been solved by the loss of this monster? No, he actually killed more Muslims than infidels. His death doesn’t make me sleep any sounder either. No, the wackos will continue their murder and mayhem in the name of Mohammed. But I do feel compassion and a sense of closure for the Americans and their families of September the 11th, a day I will never forget. Peace be with you.
