Y’know, when I see videos of young Muslim young men slicing their heads with straight razors in a frenzied jihadic pep rally, and then I see videos of our young pimps and thugs, or our Queer Eyed for Straight Guy males and our Darwinian throw back Jack Ass 2 droogies, I get a real bad feeling. It’s the feeling that if our civilian teens/twentysomethings were ever to go toe to toe with post-pubertal Islamic terrorists that our young ‘uns would get hammered like a loose board at John DiResta’s house.
Our soft and stupid culture is setting us up to be no match for these Muslim youth who are being wet nursed in Islamic death cults, being fueled with Muslim madness in a land with zero economic opportunity and are feasting feverishly on a steady diet of Anti-American disdain.
Yep, all things being equal, I believe they will eventually clean our kid’s clock if we don’t get a pro-American, kiss-my-butt attitude back into our warp and woof. These Muslim boys who currently reside across the sea (and some across your street) are not your normal young men.
This is sort of a problem for me. Why? Well, once again, Muslim young men dig jihad, and our youth love hair gel, teeth grills and blue jeans that are 17 sizes too big. Al Qaeda operative Maulana Inyadullah put it succinctly, “[Americans] love Pepsi, and we love death.” This is not some moody, PMS phase Islam is currently going through. This is their MO.
I believe that if we, as a nation (especially young adults), don’t toughen up a bit—and do it quick—that we’re not going to have the long-term stuff to cudgel off these persistent zealots. As I begin to stare at my 44-year mark and try to see down the road regarding the land my girls and their kids will inherit, I begin to shake like Shemp when he didn’t have any cheese at the real possibility of the end of this great American experiment.
I believe our increasingly effeminate culture doesn’t stand a long-term chance in hell against Muslim mayhem—unless we beef up a bunch and get back some of the now-endangered American resolve. And that goes for every American—whatever your politics, sexual bent and musical taste. If we don’t recognize and realign spiritually, physically and politically to stave off these death dealers, then within 50+/- years we will be another head on Muhammad’s trophy room wall.
Don’t believe me? Look across the pond. Europe is history as far as their heyday goes. With diminishing birth rates and a thinning of skin, it won’t be too long before the EU is Islam’s prison chick . . . mop head wig, lipstick and all. For a more in-depth and disturbing look into how Europe is cooked, get Mark Steyn’s latest book, America Alone.
Having run out of analogies, adjectives and time, let me put this to you in a song I wrote (to be sung to the tune of “Imagine,” by John Lennon).
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