Ok, not being the coldest beer in the fridge I have had a hard time figuring out the way to get to my own dang blog. But watching for others to show me the way has paid off and now I can swing for the fences.

My post is about this baloney Islam hands the poor saps they want to go out and kill themselves whilst killing infidels.
I am talking about the 72 Virgins supposedly awaiting martyrs in paradise.
First. Why seventy two? Is that a mystic number? Is 72 per terrorist a figure based on projections of the number of women in toto expected to get into heaven? Is that figure based on the projected expectations of martyrs martyring themselves at the same time? Questions of supply and demand come up for me. Does allah schedule train wrecks with boatloads of virgins on them to meet demand? What happens if demand is not met? I wonder if allah issues IOU's.
"Hey man, you're gonna have to trust me for a while. I'm working up a plague but things haven't panned out just yet. But I got my best people working on it, don' choo worry."
The number 72 sounds suspicious to me. I cast a jaundiced eye upon it.
It makes me think of tribes in Borneo who can count up to about fifty, then everything above that is ' a whole boatload'.  Now I think about it, I'm sure that must be it.
I think 72 is a number that rolls off the tongue with lots of satisfying syllables and construes a figure that most arabs of the day viewed with the awe that hillbillys view neon light. It may sound melodious in aribic. Perhaps it rhymes with something, I don't know, but that's where I'm leaving it.
Next, human nature is nothing if not predictable. Look at all the lottery winners who are broke five years after they win it big. The temptation to splurge is uncontrollable. Even a reserved and studious suicide bomber on his first day in heaven would probably want to sample the wares. It is paradise and all. The boorish sort will probably use up 3 or 4 a day until he starts to see the end of the line coming up fast. Then it's rationing for all eternity. "I'm sorry my trinket, but a schedule is a schedule, and you're slated for a billion years from now, and that's that."
But the big elephant in the room is the number 72. That's not even a 90 day supply at only one a day. We're talking eternity here. I would imagine that when paradise central explains the meaning of eternity to our young bomber friend he's going to look at the paltry sum of virgins he has left and say: "Hey wait a minute, I blew myself up and all. Can I get an advance on my next life? I was planning on blowing myself up then, too."
Next is the notion of scribes and the possibility of grammatical errors. Maybe the guy who had to write it down for what's his name (I heard he hadn't mastered his 3 R's) was sitting out in the sun and was all sweaty. One single drop off his nose that goes unnoticed, and the next scribe is like; "WTF? It's all blurry and crap." He goes to his boss who has other things on his mind. "Look, just go with your gut. Now get out of here, can't you see I've got pillaging and subjugation going on around here? And close the door,  you born in a manger?"
So on down through history this error goes unmolested, and our hapless young bomber friend shows up in paradise and is directed to his wheelbarrow full of sturgeons.
Then again I'm writing this in English. I don't know what virgin sounds like in arabic.
It could very well rhyme with pumpkin for all I know.