Monday, October 5, 2020

The Faithful Our Soldiers


 
Can a scowl be smug? It can be when it rests on the 
face of a megalomaniac convinced that the privileged 
puissance of his mission will encounter no obstacles 
too great for his energies of persuasion to transcend. 
The scowl is a permanent fixture, an outer reflection of a
deep-seated aversion to authority other than his
unquestioned own capable of storming the ramparts 
of reason and justice to forge his very own conquest 
in service to a sacred vision he has inherited from 
one to whom the mountain refused to move. To him
however, the mountain will shift accommodatingly 
in response to his skilled capabilities, his bellicose 
rhetoric, his belligerent threats, the very power and 
thrust of his unassailable argument of Islam as the
great slayer of false beliefs, the purveyor of peace 
in the raucous world of conflict. For as anyone with 
a single molecule of cerebral capacity is aware that in
the immortal words of Recep Tayyip Erdogan: The 
mosques are our barracks, the domes our helmets, 
the minarets our bayonets and the faithful our soldiers.  
Concise, clear and entirely reflective of the mission 
selflessly embarked upon by the man whose blessed
existence sparks the second coming of Mohammad.

 

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