web analytics
April 19, 2014 / 19 Nisan, 5774
At a Glance

Posts Tagged ‘feelings’

More on the ‘Religion of Permanent Offense’

Friday, August 9th, 2013

Transcript: A word to rioting Muslims



Well, once again we see multiple violent tantrums from the religion of permanent offence. Some things never change, do they?

Once again we see Islam self-detonate (if you’ll pardon the expression) and show once again why it’s about as welcome on this planet as an asteroid. Once again we see thousands of Islamic nutcases take time out from beating up their wives to show their sensitive side. How? By smashing up the towns they live in, egged on by clerical ignoramuses whose motives are even lower than the literacy level of their followers. And once again we in the civilized world are being urged to censor ourselves out of respect for a religion that violates the human rights of half the people on the planet and that doubles as a political ideology indistinguishable from Nazism. It would be funny if it wasn’t so obscene. Or should that be the other way round?

To call these riots infantile and imbecilic is to give them a dignity they don’t deserve. They can only be described as Islamic. Let me get this straight. We’re supposed to show tolerance and respect for a religion that doesn’t know the meaning of either word and goes out of its way to prove it every day? We’re supposed to amend our values to accommodate a religion that accommodates nothing and nobody? Dream on, people. It’s not going to happen, because with Islam it’s always a one way street. We’ve learned that lesson the hard way.

We can’t afford any more tolerance and respect. We’ve been sucked dry. And we’ve become weary of manufactured Islamic grievance. It’s such a bore that now when we hear some bearded buffoon or some bag-headed bimbo telling us how offended they are we can’t even be bothered to laugh any more. Not even when the Turkish prime minister hilariously demands that “Islamophobia” now be made a crime against humanity, when, given the evidence, there’s a much stronger case for making Islam a crime against humanity. Besides, Turkey is already hypocritically guilty of one of the worst crimes against humanity in history, the Armenian genocide, a crime it doesn’t even have the balls to admit to.

When Muslims start showing the same level of outrage about things that are genuinely offensive, like the thousands of women and girls who are murdered, mutilated and raped every year in their countries then we might take them a bit more seriously. As it is, there is nothing on this planet less deserving of sympathy or respect than Muslim outrage. Indeed, there’s something deeply comical about it. It’s so contrived and so cringingly un-self aware it’s impossible to take seriously, even if we wanted to, and nobody in their right mind wants to any more.

There was a time when Islam was given the benefit of the doubt by many people in the West. Now we think it’s poison and we wish we had never heard of it, because 20 years of baseless grievance mongering and knee-jerk offence have shown us this religion for what it really is, and now we don’t like it, we don’t trust it, and we are never going to respect it. And we don’t care how Muslims feel about that. Everything is an insult to this religion. Everything causes offence. Well, nobody gives a damn any more, people. You’ve done it to death. You’ve killed the goose that laid the golden egg. So now, if you’re an offended Muslim, go stick your head in the oven for all we care. And if you think that if you keep up the violence the West will eventually cave in, it’s not going to happen. Even if the politicians want it to, the people won’t allow it. We’ll carry on speaking our minds openly and freely because it’s our birthright, and it can’t be taken away from us. It can only be given away. And we are giving Islam nothing, because Islam gives us nothing. It’s a religion permanently on the take. Gimme gimme gimme is all we ever hear. Give me respect, even though I haven’t earned it. Give me special treatment or I’ll be offended and you’ll be a racist. Well, we’re sick and tired of hearing it, we’re sick and tired of Islam, and we’re sick and tired of the needless conflict and intimidation that comes from this religion at every turn.

All week we’ve heard Muslims telling us that we in the West need to understand how important the prophet is to them. We do understand, and we don’t care. That’s the point. We don’t care now, and we are never going to care. Get used to it. We don’t give a damn about your feelings. Our feelings are more important, and our feelings tell us that we’re sick to the back teeth of hearing about your religion, so stick a sock in it. And no amount of violence is going to change a thing. The more you riot and scream and shout, the less we’re going to listen. It will simply stiffen our resolve not to be bullied and pushed around by people whose values we don’t respect because you’ve given us no reason to respect them, and, more to the point, because you are incapable of giving us such a reason.

In short, we will not be told what we can and cannot say, not by you, not by anybody, not now, not ever. No matter how many flags you burn, no matter how many embassies you attack, free speech will prevail, and you’ll suck it up and like it.

Taking the Words from my Mouth (Poem)

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2013

Taking the words from my mouth,
Twisting them, stretching them, turning them round and round,
Negating their true meaning, as it was meant to be heard,
You hear what you want without really listening.

Although I squeak and stutter when I have to speak,
And I get so nervous, confused, and completely terrified to say the wrong thing,
One wrong word can alienate others, and make them stay away,
One ill placed word can alter completely what I meant to say.

Sometimes when I come near them,
People turn around and walk the other way,
Never speaking, never caring just how much joy
Hello would bring me, how much light it would bring to my life.

Every time I’m around others,
The need to monitor words, expressions, the language of the body
A conscious effort, a constant analyzing of others,
Prevents me from feeling comfortable, stops me from ever relaxing.

I would give so much, just to know, just to feel
What it would be like, just once in a lifetime,
Once, and only once for an hour
To be able to see as others see, learn as others learn, hear as others hear
The in between the lines of any given conversation.
Being me is like a scientist who can’t experiment,
A mathematician who cannot count,
An author who cannot write,
A teacher unable to teach,
A competitive runner being unable to use his feet.

Everything I want with all my heart,
Falls into the space of those things I miss,
The mannerisms, nuances, facial expressions, body language,
When talking to others, teachers, bosses, friends, parents of students,
All these things others take for granted, I practice, I sweat over,
Til I no longer feel incapable, I rehearse my lines as if I have a role to play,
This is my life, this is why I feel so disconnected, as if an observer, an outsider.

This is a description of what it feels like to be me, a girl with Asperger’s Syndrome,
Every conversation, every word thought over,
Analyzed under the finest microscope,
Before they, words, are spoken, uttered aloud,
Sometimes, mostly never, see the light of day,
Because its too late,
The time has passed to say them,
Their usefulness expired, as if never needed at all,
Always, forever, missing the boat,
Only ready to sail further when the boat’s 10 miles ahead,
Docked at new pier,
Ready to go to a new destination.

Forever on the outside looking in,
Never on the fast track,
Always slow, never have an in,
Feels like a piece is missing,
As if I am a puzzle, missing a piece,
A boat with no sail,
A snail without shell,
A butterfly with no wings;
Forever longing for the missing part of me
To take its place,
To be on the inside looking out with a smile,
To look out over the water and know that this time,
The boat and I will arrive together at a new point; in harmony at last.

Always wondering if what I see and interpret is right,
The emotions, signaled through a look, a motion of the body,
For those missing all these little signs, considered an insignificant skill by most,
For those without the ability, to discern, to differentiate,
Between one look and the next,
One motion from the other,
A challenge, a war waged, a battle ensues
Constantly, consciously taking note of every reaction, translating;
Working so hard to follow, to give the illusion, of sameness, belonging.

Wanting to share for the first time a genuine reaction to a joke,
Ironic statement, contribute a comment, observation,
Without missing the point is the opposite than its literal meaning,
Because of seeing one dimensional instead of three,
Thinking of it as flat not round,
Circle instead of sphere,
Imagining your emotions crumbling inside,
wanting to cry, as you once again realize-
You have missed the true meaning,
Getting away, tears streaming, truly defeated:
The feelings, you know once again, how much was overlooked,
How little you truly know about it all,
Life, that is, the way others are, the way others feel, conveyed
By the nonverbal aspects, the things people like me can’t seem to observe,
People like me miss the obvious to others,
In plain sight to see, but to have no clue of the how, the why,

It’s heartbreaking to know how simple others find it,
This skill that gives everyone, but people like me the ability to function,
To understand the whole of a conversation, read between the lines,
Sometimes, the tears come before I can hide,
Before I can imitate, be like everyone else,
Sometimes the tears, are the only way to show I don’t know,
Don’t comprehend, the confusing mess that to everyone else is the simple interaction amid the throng of humanity.

Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/blogs/guest-blog/taking-the-words-from-my-mouth-poem/2013/01/02/

Scan this QR code to visit this page online: