Hello again kiddies.
As many of you know, Terry Jones have now truly become a target. It serves him right though.
So let us see how we can put this waste of space into good use while he denies any responsibility for his actions.
While UN was a legitimate target all along, some shitforbrains want to point fingers everywhere else than to face themselves in the mirror. And he wanted to put more gas to the explosives to see it it blew up! The whole thing is about to blow up in his face!sa
I don’t point fingers! I kick them in the nuts! Because I see my toothless face every bloody day! And I have to deal with you maggots every time I step out the door!
What Terry Jones did, was to put someone else in the lions mouth, and then kick said lion hard in the nuts! Yet he excpects that the lion would not bite!
So let us see if he is man enough to see the result of his “bravery” for “freedom of speech!”
Let’s go to some shitkicker county in Florida for a while, and check out how he goes to bed in all his self justified thought of having done something for Jesus.
It is late at night. Outside there is a car parked. A car that you would not find i this neighbourhood.
Some people are in it.
“Are you ready” says the driver to the others.
“Ready for action!”
“We’re moving in!”
Just as the Holy Man of God is about to drift off into dreamland of harp music and visions of infidels being tortured downstairs, the door into his bedrroom is being smashed open. His little queer hooker boy who Tery just have fucked in the ass, jumps up. So does the old pedophile Man of Jesus.
They are both stunned.
“What do you want?” The once so brave pastors voice is getting squemish. He reaches for his gun. The gun that Jesus himself blessed.
Before he can do much else, his old useless carcus is being thrown down to the floor, hands tied, mouth gagged and his loverboy is stunned with fear.
“Now loverboy, we are going for a little ride!”
“Hmph” Hmph” is the only thing that the man of Jahwe can manage to get out.
“Here’s the deal! You say you have no responsibility for your actions. Yet you knew what could happen if you burned an ancient book. We know how your braindead sheeples would react if someone made a bonfire of your own book of delusions.
You claim you have no responsibility for what has happened. Who burned the book?Fine! Let us put your money where yoour mouth is, and give you another chance to burn the book once again! But now you will have the oportunity to do it in front of a little different audience. And no! It will not be in the safety of Florida. It will be in a completely different place! This audience is going to LUUVE you!
You see, me and my team have a thing about book burnings. Specially burning of books that will spark something much uglier! And you my friend seem to need a little historylesson! Back in the days, book burnings were a popular pastime amongst Christian clerics in Europe. And after that, the clerics went after people! I’m sure you know that! Since you’ve been to Germany and all!”
With the tone of the voice and the words, panic was in his eyes. I smiled in a vicious glee. And this once man was no longer a man. He wet himself.
The trip to the airport was a short one. Considering that this journey would last a lot longer.
The airplane was ready. Our friend was squirming like a pig.
We drove straight into the B52 that was wating at the Airforce base.
I leaned towards good old dr Jones. Never in my army days, never in my experience as a Marine have these words given me more pleasure as the words I was about to say to him.
“I’m calling your “faith” bullshit. You and the rest of the religious manics need medical help if you can’t get through your life without something invisible to believe in. Y’know, I wouldn’t mind all this half so much if there was some historical truth in it. This whole concept of “faith”— of believing in something that isn’t fucking there — was invented by a man to cover up the cracks in the “christianity” he cobbled together with the Romans. This whole god thing comes from the days when our brains weren’t as connected up as they are now, and we all hallucinated daily!
What is really hilarious is that where we’re going, they have the same delusions as you! Let’s hope they will show you more mercy than they did to the once they killed after they heard about your little Christian bonfire!”
I felt like a sadist, saying these things to him. He was not only squriming, and wanting to say something!
The plane was about to lift off in the dark of night. It felt as if we were going into D Day.
But this was a trip I looked forward to. Finally some redneck evangelical shitkicker would get a taste of his own medicine. And there was no regret. I knew what was going to happen to him But I couldn’t care less. This piece of human waste was about to have a purpose for a change in his useless life.
The flight lasted for gruelling 20 hours. Non stop. We had to take out the gag of our heros mouth to feed him.
He immediately started to scream.
“Why are you doing this tome? I’m a Patriotic American Hmpsfs”… We stuffed his mustached face with a sandwich, and put a straw beside to fill his dirty mouth with some liquid. Sounds like waterboarding, doesn’t it?
“Aren’t you glad that the party he voted for deemed waterboarding no longer to be torture”, I said to my colleagues. They spurted out in laughter.
Tears came out of the sorry sadsacks eyes. He started to get an idea wher we were bringing him. And it was not good – for him.
There was not much macho Christian left of him.
“This is against all laws! This is against the Constitution!”
“Sorry sonny! We don’t work according to the Constitution! We’re going to save lives! And for that, we need to use you as a sacrificial lamb! Aren’t you glad you can serve the same fantasy man whom died for your sins? Now, it’s your great oportunity to show that you can follow your prophet in chief!”
“God will punish you for this!”
Oh, now! I don’t think you are in any position to come with threats here sonny! For that you are way too much of a peewee.”
“Now, let’s make a deal! I can make you all rich!”
He was ready for bargaining.
“What do you say boys? Shall we give it up, become corrupted, live in the life of leisure while millions of people will be killed?”
Jesse, the old veteran laughed.
“I think we already got paid well enought to open a dozen pot farms in Baja mate!”
We all laughed.
We could have sedated the bastard. But the sadists we were, we wanted to make this humanoid to realize from minute to minute what he’s done. We call it Poetic Justice.
We fed him, let him rant for a while before we actually did sedate him, and went back to our poker game and joints and Whisky.
We went against the sun over the Pacific. The sunlight and clouds were in beautfiful combination. Which reminded me of my ex. last exhebition before she threw me under the brigde. And before I came out of my retirement. It was called “Heads in the Clouds”…
Memory serves. I’m sure she would not approve of my choice in career. But I don’t care. She’s fucking someone else now.
I was just looking forward to see a lynch mob of poppy farmers and goat herder smile as soon as the saw whom we were bringing with us, and get this dirty business over with. We had our dr. Jones to cure some illness in a country destroyed by our own forces and raving hypocricy.
We all shared a bong, and the fell asleep for a few hours. We would be in Kabul in only a few hours. There was still another journey to take. We were taking him to the heart of Pashtun land, Kandahar. Once a place of peace, tranquility, hashish smoking, and a place for Writers, travellers, hippies and adventurers. How things can change.
The heart of the resistance against our troops.
We were few. And we needed to travel in utter secrecy. We landed in darkness. There was as I said, no need for any great greetings.
The airbase was quiet. Once we drove out the van, some officer greeted us, and a man in civies. Apparantly a CIA man. I never liked those cloak and dagger creeps.
“Alrgiht! Is the subject with you? Everyting intact?”
“Yessir. We’re al ready and set to go!”
My small platoon and I got seated in the van. Our subject was still under. I couldn’t help myself. But I almost felt sorry for the bastard. In core, he was just as ignorant as the mountain dwellers. Still, he had not the same excuse. Now, we were going ton throw him out to the wolf pack..
We drove for hours on end through a barren landscape. How the hell can people make a living here? We all sat in silence. Deep in our own thoughts.
Small woodlands. Majestic mountains. We knew that the Taliban was up there somewhere. And they would all be better trained than us for war. We only have done our tour of duty. For them, it is a way of life. Only an Apache or a Navajo would be able to fight these people on their own turf and win. White skins like us, growing up with a kitchen sink, and a hot stove and a warm bed could never measure up even if we tried. And we have all seen battle. We have all slept on hard ground before.
This was different. As we would be sent back to a hospital bed, a shrink, and durgs that would make us either insane, or to zombies, thse people lived this way. Grwoing their own medicine. Having their own sense of justice. Unchanged in more than a thousand years. How do you kill a thousand year old culture?
By killing all of them?
These are questions that our subject never bothered to ask. He’s had his head in another equally disgusting book held in reverance by two billion people according to statistics. But I know statistics lie. At least in this case. I’m still a member of my church. But I spit on it, like I spit on any dogma that I find repuslive. Now, we were going to serve up a priest to the ones he have pissed on. to someone whom have the same core values I despise.
But there was no turning back. Obama and CIA have paid us shitloads of money to not only play the Devils Advocate, but to do his bidding as well.
As discusting the task was, it was still the right thing to do. Can you make an omelette without breaking some eggs?
We held our guns ready at all times.
Kandahar lay before us. An ancient city that have seen thousands of years of conquest. Alexander the Great! The Muslim Army! The Mongols. The English. The Russians. And now a dozen different countries represented by UN. We were all a part of the American Plan.
I lit up another joint, and took a line of speed. I needed the jumpstarter for this. I was going to talk to the insane lynch mob. And I needed to have the spunk to deal with it.
Even if some US. forces was there, we were far from safe. But that was not the point either. We were there to give them what they wanted. The wicked witch of Florida.
It was almost midday when we dragged our subject to the footbal field. We passed the old hotel that was reserved for hippies, pot smokers and journeymen on our way. I sudden urge to turn back the clock 40 years rose up in me.
“Where are you taking me” good ol’e Dr. Jones whimpered. He was waking up.
“We’re taking you to face the ones you have insulted.”
“But why? Do you want me dead?”
“It’s about time you grew up son! It’s easy to play hero for an audience of adoring sheeples, is it not”, Mike, my colleague sait to him.
“Now you wil face a different crowd. And it will serve you good! If there is a god, then I’m sure he will understand both you and the stone throwers.”
Terry vomitted. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He was having a nervous breakdown.
His whimpers didn’t stop until we came to the field. There was already 10 000 people gathered there. A cleric and a local official met us. Off course this slick freak was instated by Captain America. Corrupt as hell, and porbably beating his wife just because he couldn’t get it up.
For a moment, I found my whole job disgusting. For once in my life, I would do something that strode against all my principles.
But I knew it had to be done. We had to carry our corpse up to the gallow.
The crowd seemed ready to kill us.
Jesse, the mayor and I stood together.
Why we had to go through with this, I don’t know. We have done our dirty deed. We brought the Christian “lamb” to the slaughter house.
Since I was the Writer, they have given me the task to talk to them. Bastards!
The mayor interpreted.
“Listen up my fellow planet dwellers! I used to be a soldier! Protecting Muslim lives in Bosnia! Now, I am turing this man over to you, to save lives! This is the man whom burned your holy book! It is a despicable act to burn books! No matter what!”
The crowd murmured. They wanted to see blood. And was not in a mood to listen to BS.
Terry was sinking down in fear. My mates had to hold him up.
“Books can be replaced. Just because a book is burning, does not mean that it’s ideas dies. Book burnings are a poor attempt to kill those ideas!. But if your Allah is as omnipotent, then a simple copy cannot destroy the ancient ideas of your forefathers! Remember! You once held the Buddha Statues in reverence! Yet you blew them up! does that generate any respect?
Those Buddha statues were a part of your legacy even more so than the Quran!
Yet both you, and this blasphemour share the same intolenrance towards other ideas that you grew up with!
Yet you grew up with war, invasions, and supression! Now you have become the opressors! But I will still hand to you this man to your justice! Give him the same quartes as Allah wants to show all of His creation! No matter what htey believe in!
A great God shows mercy and love and compassion to all his creation. He is a part of all of us! When we kill, then we kill a part of God! When we burn books, we only burn pages and words that cannot die!
People die! Ideas, when they are not imposesd or forced, but live on through the minds and hearts of human beings, these ideas will live on no matter how many books that is burned, or human beings are being sacrificed to either spread the idea, or the idea to be suppressed!”.
The crowd seemed more leniant.
“Here is the man that wants to destroy your religion in the name of his own! Show him the same mercy you hope to be shown when you meet your own maker!”
I knew I was pushing my limits of luck ot even consider challenging their whole train of thinking an dogma. But I took a shot. Somehow, I wanted to save this piece of garbages life!
I turned Dr. Jones over to the mayor and left the whole thing behind me.
I could not stand what was going to happen. They tore him a part.
I went to the old hotel that once kept old hippies and writers alive. The name of the hotel was Peace Hotel. I ordered a bottle of whisky and a bong.
I was woken up the next morning holding a splif and a bottle in a bed somewhere. It was Dr. Jones!
He said: Thank you for saving my life and soul!