Saturday, September 22, 2007

Feel the Love, Shahids

Such trusting little souls. Here is what passes for an elementary school education in Hamastan.

You have seen the images before. I doubt they even shock anyone, nowadays.

They seem so commonplace, anymore. Such things have been going on for years, and no one at the U.N. says anything about the morbid abuse of children in the Caliphate of Dumb. No one in the press, no messenger of Jesus Christ cries out from the pulpits of Christendumb to invoke the words of doom that those who lead little ones into sin have a fate worse than death awaiting them. Affirmation by silence. Except for a few folks in the invisible etherea, no one pays attention.

Morgan Freeberg's thoughts via American Digest

Things I Know

222. People who tolerate evil, because of their hidden agendas, fear of consequences or retribution, knowledge of their limitations, laziness, whatever, want everyone else to tolerate it as well. Being allowed to make up their own minds, to opt out of any movement to oppose the evil, to be left alone while braver men confront what they will not, never seems to be enough for them. Always, or nearly always, there is this passion to stop others from doing what they lack the courage to do. They talk about this passion and the resulting frustration a great deal. But they won’t explain it. I wish they would.


I can remember - way back in the 70s - attending a Keith Green concert. Boy was he pissed. Seriously upset. Upset at the marketing of Christ. The Jesus kitsch racket. The tote bags, t-shirts, you name it. Green deplored it all. He was giving away his records by the time he died.
One record cover stands out to me more than any others. It was this one:

No Compromise. The picture says it all. One man standing up to the tyrant and false idol, while the rest just grovel and say nothing. So very like today.

One of my cherished pet peeves is the Christian Book Store phenomenon. Deplorable tacky bric-a-brac with whisps of scriptural admonitions. Ick.
My favorite token of ire is the whole Precious Moments crapfest. You see the stuff everywhere. Statues of blonde, blue-eyed tots with their eyeballs ALWAYS turned heavenward. Just. awful.

So how do we get these two odious children to play together? Hey, I know!

Badly rendered artwork by Ibn Karandash

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