And now, an interlude from the Jihad Watch Art Department. "Allah's bullet" is a poem by Oskar Freysinger, a member of the Swiss parliament. It is part of a German-language book he is writing (for which he is looking for an English publisher), and this English version comes to us courtesy Gabrielle Goldwater:
It took Umma a long time to file me. A very long time.
She took great care in shaping the metal jacket that covers me.
Tenderly she filled me with the powder of her hatred.
Now I am ready. In golden lustre I await the great day when my
destiny will be fulfilled.
Motionless and with infinite patience I mark time, ready to slash
through space, exploding the all-powerful word of Allah in the world
of the infidels.
The desert of the godless will once again blossom under his redeeming
thunderbolt.
Finally it has come, the day of the big sacrifice.
With soft, yet emphatic pressure of her delicate fingers Umma pushes
me into the cartridge case.
For the last time I see her black eyes through the loading slot, then
I become engulfed by utter darkness.
In front of me lies the runway to the holy war. At its end the
glaring light towards which I shall propel myself without feeling
in order to unite myself with it.
And to enrich it with truth.
The overwhelming power of faith pushes me forward. The tunnel
disappears, the friction of the air particles makes my head
glow.
Finally I see the target:
Two arms, two legs, a head: an infidel. A soft target.
With a tremendous impact I throw my hard core against his chest,
splitting it, penetrating the infected heart, bringing his blood
covering my shell to the boiling point.
And already I am through.
A triumphant victory.
And it was very easy.
As if there were no resistance.
But before I have time to really feel the joy about my successful
flight, a wall emerges in front of me.
I was not programmed to stop.
So I crash with full force against the white concrete slabs and fall,
to remain in the dust with a crushed head.
A spent piece of the human will, encapsulated in a battered metal
jacket.
But I know that Umma is already shaping my brothers.
I was but their harbinger.
They have their voyage to come.
When the time comes, thousands of them will throw themselves through
the same tunnel into the light.
They will make a void in the air that can never be closed.
And Allah's enemies will be absorbed by it.
Oskar Freysinger
member of the Swiss parliament
Allah-Freysinger-Text-05.04.05
Copyright © Oskar Freysinger
I'm not sure if this is bad poetry or just badly translated.
I am sure the muslims are seething. Will they scream "islamophobia" next?
Herr Freysinger seems to have woken up. Yet he writes:
The desert of the godless will once again blossom under his redeeming
thunderbolt
There is nothing redemptive about Islam. It denies original sin (if the da'wa-men in the West are to be believed), and hammers this at all of us Christian-influenced folks (whether believers or Rousseau- or Jefferson-influenced rebels against it). With no original sin vitiating human effort, there is no need of any redeeming sacrifice.
Not a bad bit of James Dickey-esque verse.
It reminds me of his poem about the true story of an airline stewardess, in the 1960's, who fell from a plane by accident, and in which he describes her experience of an Icarus-like descent to Earth.
If it helps remind the Swiss that 'you need to keep your identity and be aware of those who want to obliterate it', then let the poems bloom.
A spontaneous haiku of my own:
Islam is lame.
At the center of the Kaaba
A maggot pulsing.