Posted by
Lazlo on Monday, August 14, 2006 12:43:52 PM
Our pals across the pond have thwarted another nasty plot. I now find out they (Terrorist Bastids) were planning to use their own baby as a cover to use the little tyke's bottle as the explosive. Which leads to the point of my rant for the day:
I hate's me a terrorist.
Hezbollah sets up a rocket launcher on the roof of a building, packed it with disabled women and children so they could employ their weapon of world concern after it was leveled. To use my own concern for the innocent as a weapon against me is something I find most detestable.
This, and the baby bottle incident have led me to the following conclusion:
They have regressed back below the point of humanity.
The big question is what to do.
A lot of bandwidth and ink have been used to posit the importance of moral high ground. But that to me now seems an empty principle. To try to retain this moral high ground while fighting a war against an asemetrical force that views its own death with relish and content is to give credence to the thought that our own soldier's lives are somehow on an equal footing as theirs. I submit that they are not.
A 'man' who would use a woman as a shield has no honor.
A 'man' who would use a child as a shield has no soul.
People who would do such things are not people anymore and should be gotten rid of.
But do we harden our hearts to the deaths of their innocents to save ours?
Well, that is a stickler. But I answer in this fashion:
My girlfriend has made a career out of rescuing dogs. She works night and day to find homes for the abandoned and abused. But even if she were to clone herself a thousand times, live on a hundred thousand acre ranch where the dogs were stacked twenty feet high, spay and neuter on an industrial scale she would still not save every one. But she does what she can.
Does that mean that she willfully condemns every dog not in her reach to death and suffering?
No.
She can't save every one, but she will save as many as she can.
The moral high ground in her story would be to not eat, sleep, or be otherwise occupied in this struggle. But that is impossible because she would fall down and die, and all the animals would have gained is a short respite while she worked herself to death.
I view the fight against islamic conquest (because chillun's that's exactly what it is) and those who wage it in the same fashion. Yeah, I might save a whole pile of innocent women and children if I refrain from bombing the crap out of countries that are infested with the likes of hezbollah. But how many more will be put to the sword on the way to the world caliphate?
A lot more than would be killed if we carpet bombed the entire middle east.
Would all hostilities cease if they owned the entire world?
Nope. These guys will not be satisfied. If aliens landed they would be after them.
They care nothing for their own kind. I think the baby bottle thing proves my point.
We care for ours. We even care about people we don't know. That's why terrorism works.
If the terrorists want death that's exactly what we should give them...in spades.
Why do they hate us?
Don't care.
Did we do something to make them hate us?
Don't care. They already had their reason when they wrote the koran.
What I do care about is ridding the earth of their kind.
Before any ladies' blouses go off and cry about Lazlo wanting to kill all muslims; I don't.
It's the conquest and 'getting folks killed by setting up rocket launchers on their roofs, and bringing your own baby on a plane as a disguise so you can blow it up' part I want to stop.
Before any debate springs up about who owned what chunk of the planet first:
Dig up a rock. Under it you will find germs. Hand them the deed to your house because they were here first. Anything later than that is suspect and subjective reasoning.
This next part is figurative:
If a person comes down my street with a sword in one hand and a book in the other saying all those who don't read and agree with that book will get killed; I will shoot that person.
I don't care if the book is the Bible, koran, or Mark Twain's Adventures of Puddin'head Wilson.