Right here and right now!! pt. 3

The journey ends with us arriving in Mecca. While everyone else was straining at the windows trying to get a look...I was barely aware that we had arrived. I seriously needed to lie down fully stretched out and could think of nothing else I wanted or needed in life but a space large enough to do so. I dont really have any memories of our arrival in Mecca...I was in the middle seat and couldnt really see anything anyhow and it held no interest for me at that moment...I just couldnt bring myself to care that I had arrived in the holiest Muslim spot on the planet...a spot I had dreamed about for years...I just wanted a soft pillow and some quiet.

When we arrived at the hotel the lobby was a madhouse of people and luggage. It turns out our rooms werent ready yet and so all the luggage was piled up in a corner and my fellow bus travelers went off to perform Umrah...I collapsed on a couch in the lobby and Im unable to tell you what went on around me for the next 2 hours. I slept the sleep of the dead...dont ask me about my modesty...its possible something showed that shouldnt have etc...I didnt have the strength to care about such formalities. I discovered later that my son had stayed behind and "kept guard" over me. I also discovered that the cousin (brother to my friend) had also stayed behind to watch over me (as he would do for the remainder of the trip...and still does to this day)...my unofficial brother. He is one of the best men I have ever had the honour of knowing.

As soon as the first room was made available...Kaleefa (unofficial brother) made sure that I was escorted to it...and I crawled into a bed fit for a queen and slept a further 4 hours. My son stayed outside the door. Eventually Kaleefa had my son wake me up and said I needed to perform Umrah before the day was over since that is what I had come for...was in a state of ihram (I believe thats the word) as well as himself and my son. So I prepared myself and Kaleefa led us from the hotel. I anticipated a long walk to the Kabaa but it turns out our hotel was practically in the shadow of the mosque...we stepped out from the hotel and the mosque was right there on the doorstep pretty much. I was pretty shocked to say the least...but had to keep moving as Kaleefa was striding ahead...barely looking back...sigh. My son was helping me along but boy was I exhausted. I was already out of breath and we hadnt even got to the actual mosque yet.

Once we entered the doors (after passing security that made sure we didnt have cameras etc) (which was funny considering so many people were taking pics with their phones) I was amazed at just how long it took to get from the door area to the actual prayer areas and the Kabaa itself. The place was packed with people and Kaleefa was holding himself back Im sure to keep an eye on us...but he was still keeping up a good pace. I barely had time to register the beauty of the mosque and the cosmopolitan atmosphere...I was concentrating on not losing sight of him and not falling down as my abaya was too long and I was too tired to lift my feet properly.

When we finally reached the main area of the mosque that had the Kabaa...I just stood there in awe. To actually be face to face with something I had only ever seen on tv was surreal. People were bumping into me...voices all over the place...birds over head...sun shining...kids crying...you name it...but none of it registered...I was in a state of awe...and wanting to enjoy it to the full. However, Kaleefa had other plans. He handed over a mobile phone to my son...gave us some instructions about how to deal with the crowd...how to perform the Umrah itself...and what to do if we lost sight of him (which was a given of course). He instructed my son not to let go of me under any circumstances...and while I know my son would try his best...I had little hope in all that throng that he would manage it. (I was amazed later that he really did keep hold of me throughout...the multitudes of people seemed to have only one intent..pull us apart)

And off we went...we flowed into the crowd of people and immediately I felt like I had been there before...I felt a sense of deja vu so strong...I stopped in my steps to take it in...but of course you cant stop while circumventing the Kabaa lest you get run over...so on we went.

I cant really tell you much about going round the Kabaa...I was concentrating too hard on not getting trampled by the crowd...I was much slower then most of them as I was plain exhausted. I sort of went into a robotic like mode...one step...one step...one step...while chanting the same words that Muslims through hundreds of years had gathered and chanted as well. I was also trying not to lose track of how many times we had went round the Kabaa...its kind of hard to keep a mental note of that...as every side of the mosque looks pretty much the same...so in a small corner of my mind I also chanted...3...3...3...or whatever circle we were on...and watched for the corner of the Kabaa that had the black stone as a marking spot. It took my son and I nearly 2 hours to do our circumventing...I found out later it took others just under and hour or so. I was tired...did I mention that?

When we finally finished Kaleefa was long gone so we made our way to Marwa and Safwa to begin our 7 trips back and forth. I spent a further hour and some shuffling back and forth between these two spots...trying to keep track and wondering when it would all be over. My son stayed with me for awhile but felt he should be jogging it like so many other men were...so he left me with promises to find me when he was done....sure...ok...whatever (2...2...2...2). The hardest part of that particular trek was that at each end, the spot where you did a Uturn of sorts and headed back the other way...the ground was cemented with little bumpy protrusions. Im assuming so that people could get a grip with the toes and climb up the incline without slipping. What it meant for me and my very swollen sore feet was agony each time I reached one end and had to traverse this spot in order to begin the journey back. (3....ouch.....3....ouch....3.....oh my feet). (later many of the women asked me why I didnt allow my son to push me in a wheelchair like many others...but I felt that as long as I could actually still walk...I would...no matter how long it took)

Finally....I was done...after what seemed to be years of shuffling, counting, agonizing and chanting...I was finished with my first Umrah. My son was nowhere to be seen so I weakly made my way to the side out of the way and waited for him to find me. Oh to get off my feet at last was heaven!!! even if it did take me 5 minutes to actually make my way down to the floor. I felt like I was 100 years old and couldnt imagine a time when I didnt feel like this. (I want my bed and I want it NOW!!!)

My son finally found me and he had Kaleefa with him. They needed to go shave their heads now as a final ritual....which meant I had to get up off the floor. With nothing to lean on to aid me...it was an ordeal all by itself. My knees were grouchy...my ankles were hollering...and my feet had gone off on vacation apparently as Im sure I couldnt feel them. I realize that men are reluctant to touch females that are not related to them in the Muslim world...so I was greatfully surprised when Kaleefa offered me a hand up, which I readily accepted. It still took me some time to gain my feet...and even then I wasnt sure I would stay upright...I was down to my last ounce of strength...and we still needed to get back to the room....OMG!!! OMG!!!! OMG!!!

I did manage to finally make it back to the room...to find my room mates on the way out. Now that Umrah was out of the way...many were excited to start on the second most popular reason for coming to Mecca...Shopping!!! I was happy that the room would be quiet so I could sleep without the constant babble of chatter in the back ground. I crawled back into my lovely sweet smelling soft bed and slept without regaining conciousness until fajr prayer. The ladies were waking me to go down to the mosque for prayers...but my legs just wouldnt hold me properly. I was wiped out. They all left and I struggled to wash and perform my prayers and crawled back into bed once again. Where I would remain for much of the next 5 days.

*to be continued

Right here and right now!! pt. 2

(Taking up where I left off)...

Sitting down finally on the bus. I was exhausted by then and just wanted to lie down...but bus seats are not made for lying down thats for sure. It was about 10 minutes down the road when I realized there was no bathroom on that bus...it was about 10 seconds after that when I realized I was going to either embarrass myself in front of all these strangers (except for the 3 people I knew) or manage in some small way to control myself until the next stop. Thankfully my stomach had settled down...all though it was still hurting me...it had nothing further to offer up to the "gods". My nether regions were a different story...they had plenty to complain about and werent shy to vocalize....(ahem...sorry).

As if not having a bathroom was not bad enough...the a.c. on the bus was not working properly. The darn thing was dripping in numerous places up and down the bus onto passengers. Before long there were a myriad of contraptions designed to send the dripping water somewhere else...usually on your neighbor. And to top it off...for some reason the floor of the bus was almost too hot to bear. Many of us removed our shoes for the long journey but ended up either putting them back on or placing a bag or something for our feet to rest on...otherwise they were toasted.

Since I was the last person on the bus...I got the "crap" seat. The very back of the bus has an entire row of seats that go all the way across. Two window seats and two center seats. I was in one of the center seats. So there I was...exhausted...in serious pain from vomiting...continuously cramping which meant I seriously needed a bathroom again (ASAP), my feet were being scorched, my head dripped on...and to make matters worse...because I was in the middle I couldnt lie against the window or even down in the seat...so I made most of that journey unable to even really relax because to do so would have probably meant falling asleep and falling over onto one of my seat partners. I also had a sneaky suspicion to fall asleep would have resulted in me losing control of my shaky bowels...ouch! No thank you.

Our first stop was for fajr prayers in a small town with a medium sized mosque. I was barely able to walk well enough to get off the bus. I found it strange that all though many of the women seemed sympathetic to my plight, enquiring as to my well being numerous times...none of them volunteered to switch seats with me to allow me maybe rest against the window...and none of them offered to help me from the bus or asked me if I needed anything from the cold store that everyone rushed too. As soon as everyone got off...my son came back and helped me off then ran to bring me water etc.

As I hobbled my way towards the back of the mosque where I heard the bathrooms were I was finding it more difficult to "maintain control" at the thought that soon I wouldnt have too. However, once I came around the corner it was as if I had hit a wall...a powerfully putrid smelling wall. Many of the ladies were hanging around outside unwilling to enter...others were plugging their noses and going for it. I had no choice, so to speak, and stepped hesitantly in. Oh the horrors of what I faced. I have never seen such a filthy and disgusting bathroom in my life. The floor was unspeakable...the sinks and walls were likewise...and the toilets were just holes in the floor that were either overflowing...or looked almost too dangerous to even approach as you felt it might break away and you would end up somewhere under the dark recesses of the mosque. Under any other circumstances I would not even had thought twice about turning around and getting back on the bus and waiting for the next stop...it was that bad...but I was absolutely positive I would not make it to the next stop without dire consequences...so I swallowed my disgust...lifted my abaya (way high) and found the least horrible cess pit of the lot.(it didnt win by much but it did have a workable lock). It was then I realized it had no water...no kleenex...nothing to facilitate proper cleaning.(thankfully I had a bottle of water and some kleenex in my bag...all though the way I was feeling I would have had to have "gone" anyhow and cleaned up best I could) Sorry for the graphics people but it was that bad.

Navigating my way through the bathroom ordeal was exhausting and extremely frustrating. Several times I nearly fell into the muck...and when I reached out to grab something to save myself...I would end up grabbing something equally horrible...(shoot me now ...please). Ugh!! Eventually I noticed it had gotten very quiet and than realized I was the last one in the bathroom. When I exited the bathroom my son was anxiously waiting outside wondering if he should risk it and come inside and see if I was ok...everyone else had finished prayers and were headed back for the bus...and I was barely able to shuffle towards the mosque. Thankfully my friends brother was in charge of the crowd and made sure a headcount was done each time we got on and off...or I feel I might have been left behind..along with my son while he stood outside one bathroom or another waiting nervously for me.

Basically the rest of the trip to Mecca was just a repeat of that first bathroom experience...exhaustion...filth...no water or very little...even the mosques themselves were generally unkempt and in need of a good cleaning. We even found a group of ladies smoking hubbly bubbly in one mosque...the smoke and stink was horrible. I find it very strange that Gods Houses are allowed to go unmaintained like that...what a horrible thing to greet Muslims at nearly every stop.

A side note here...I am allergic to some insects...ants being one of them. In one mosque there were very large, chunky black ants roaming all over the place...inside and out. I even seen them crawling over some of the ladies that were praying. My first instinct was to not pray as I was horrified at the thought of one of those goliaths biting me and me dying in the middle of nowhere in a dirty little mosque (not much better than in a bathroom on the bridge is it) but I was worried I wouldnt get the chance to perform this prayer before the next one was due..so decided to take my chances. So I prayed as best I could (being exhausted and all) among the largest blackest ants Ive ever seen in my life. Im happy to say they did not bother me...thank you God.

I dont remember what town we stopped in in order for the men to don the white cloths and for the ladies to do their thing (I was basically a walking zombie by then) as most of that trip was just an exhaustive haze in which I was barely registering anything other than the need for a bathroom and desire to just sleep for a year or two...but we finally arrived among much excitement and flurry of activity. The bus was parked in a large parking lot sort of at the bottom of a hill...and the showers and mosque were on an upward slope...waaay up there. While everyone else hurried off...I leaned against my son and hobbled up this Mt Olympus that took me nearly 20 min to summit.

I found all the ladies cheerfully engaged in the pre Umrah ritual of showering and donning plain dresses...no makeup...perfume or jewlery of any kind....then heading further up the hill to the mosque for the next prayer. I entered one of the shower stalls and was greeted with very very cold water and no hooks to hang my clothes from...not to mention I had forgotten my towel way back down the hill in the bus...try getting dressed again when your only tshirt dried and chattering so much from the cold your almost biting your tongue off (not to mention almost too tired to chatter). I was soooo dog tired that when a wasp flew into the shower stall I just blinked at it and wished it away rather than go into a "dont sting me Im allergic" panic and jump out of the shower naked as I might have done under other circumstances...he didnt like the cold water anymore than I did apparently as he flew back out the window just as quick.

It took me nearly 40 min to shower, change and trudge up the hill to the mosque and perform my prayers. Once in the mosque I needed the bathroom again and had to trudge back down...do my thing...and trudge back up again. That added another 20 min and everyone else was back at the bus by then. My son was patiently waiting...and escorted me back aboard. I dont recall hearing anyone complain that I was "holding up" the rest of them...but then again I have to really pay attention to Arabic to understand it...and in my zombie like state I wasnt understanding any of it...so who knows.

Next stop Mecca.

*to be continued

Right here and right now!!

Ive had a very stressful and hectic past few years...not many opportunities to claim that I was feeling "good"...feeling "right"...feeling "content and at peace" with myself and my life in general. Anyone that knows a little about my life from this blog will understand what Im talking about...but I dont want anyone to assume I havent had "some moments" too...some moments to just sit back and say "wow" or "cool"...or even "Im glad Im here... right here and right now"...doesnt happen often but it does happen...even to me...so heres my "right here and right now" story. (beware...I do not know how to get to the point without wandering far afield now and then...you've been warned)

Im going to write this in the present tense...all though it happened over two years ago...bear with me...Im like that.

Ive lived in Bahrain for 19 years now and Ive never been to Mecca...never been to Saudi for that matter. I have dreamed of going to Haj or Umrah for years but my husband has never even considered the possibility...there is always an excuse why we cant go. Its on my list of Things To Do...but also on my list of Things Im Not Likely To Ever Do As Long As Im Married To HIM!! That list is far longer than the first one...sigh!

My best friend came to me today and asked me something that I thought would never be spoken to me..."would you like to go to Umrah?" Excuse me...is that a trick question? She explained that her cousin was organizing a group to travel together...and she also knew another lady that was willing to pay all expenses for someone to perform Umrah that had never gone before and couldnt afford it. That lady wondered if my best friend knew anyone that "fit the bill"...that bill fits me so well...it was made for me!! She warned me though that nothing was for sure just yet...the bus was pretty full...they were not sure if there were two available seats left just then...my son having to travel with me for mahrem purposes (never even considered asking my husband...I knew he would refuse...and I didnt want him raining on my spiritual parade). So I have been waiting for two days...not really holding my breath...but feeling breathless all the same.

Both my best friend and her cousin came to see me today...with huge grins on their faces...it would seem that I am Umrah bound...Im left quite speechless...to be so close to something and not be able to actually see it or touch it...or experience, it is so much harder than to be on the other side of the world with an ocean or two between you...being close and yet so far...is so much harder. For several moments Im not able to say anything...but they understand completely and just quietly celebrate with me.

OMG! Now I have just 2 days to prepare myself for my Spiritual Journey of a Lifetime...how does one prepare for such a momentous moment? I have been dreaming about this every since I had reverted to a Muslim...but to be faced with the actuality of it was overwhelming...if you've ever felt like your floating...and about to throw up at the same time...its a little like that!

Well, Ive spent the last two days on a whirlwind of shopping for a suitcase, abaya and mentally preparing myself for what lays ahead....I keep thinking that Im in no way ready or even deserving to make such a trip...I mean really! is there like a Belief Meter or something at the border to indicate whether your actually spiritually deserving of entering Mecca? Im sure I would fail...positive...sigh! of course I have the sneaky feeling that there is some sort of divine intervention for such failings...like a bolt of lightening zapping me out of existence the moment I step foot on "hollowed" ground...(wondering what that feels like). Im definitely taking a chance here...my kids need a mother...but the risk is well worth it...no doubt.

It turns out that I am the only non-Bahraini travelling on this particular bus...and so apparently it would be easier for all concerned if I wasnt actually on the bus when it goes over the bridge and border...dont ask me why...Im just along for the ride. The plan is for my best friend and her husband to drive me and my son over the bridge...and then wait in the middle for the bus to come through. Everyone is thinking that the bus will be waiting for us...but it turns out that we will be waiting for the bus for nearly 3 hours (memo to bridge authority...there has got to be faster methods for getting people checked and through without waiting hours for the pleasure of entering or exiting Saudi...damn!).

I might mention that Im damn uncomfortable wearing this heavy abaya...I havent actually worn one in quite awhile...I usually wear long shirts etc...and this one is way too big for me...its dragging on the ground and falling over my shoulders even though its a snap on the shoulder type. Makes me want to pull some hair out the way I keep having to lift it up to keep from stepping on it...or pull it into place. Reminds me why I dont like wearing them in the first place....arrrgh! Oh how I wish an abaya wasnt a pre-requisite to entering Mecca...the things women have to wear to please men...uhm...I mean God.

Anyhow...while we are patiently waiting for the bus to get through...we decide to pass the time by eating a late lunch. We went to some place called Kudos, which Ive never been to before...and will likely never go to again. Bear with me...the next few paragraphs will not be pleasant for the faint of heart.

Half way through lunch I start feeling decidedly odd. Cant quite place it but I know something is "off" within me. At first I believed that my anemia was acting up and so my friends husband and my son raced on ahead to bring me back some folic acid. It generally perks me right up...if that was the problem...turns out it wasnt. My friend and I went to the nearby mosque and I laid down in the ladies section on the floor...with my head on her lap while she read Quran on me. My head was hurting and spinning...my insides were churning and cramping...and before long I would be fairly sure I seen Death waving cheerily from the window of the mosque...ugh!

It took husband and son quite along time to return and in the meantime I was busy alternating between sitting on the toilet bowl or facing it...depending on what needed exiting at that particular moment. I felt like death warmed over and was sure I was going to die in a dirty bathroom on the bridge to Saudi...and never even getting to see the Kabaa after all my suffering...poor me! In the meantime my friend was panicking believing pretty much the same things...and calling her husband to come back ASAP and running back and forth to help me and to see if the bus had come through yet. I forgot to mention that her cousin (brother to the cousin that arranged this trip for me) (also might mention he is the Muslim man I admired in a previous post about Sunni and Shias marrying and he behaving as a true Muslim throughout...sorry...still having problems with linking). She was wanting her cousin to go on without me...I was that bad...but when he and the bus eventually did show up...his words were this..."if she is going to die...what better place to do it in for a Muslim then in Mecca?" Cant fight that logic...all though she did...but eventually I was on the bus...husband and son came back finally and son got on with me...his concern for me was so apparent...but he was forced to sit in the front with the men while the ladies sat in the back...but I could see his anxious face searching for me every now and then...and each time we made a stop...he was right there ready to do anything for me...I love my son!

Now, for anyone that has ever had food poisoning (Im assuming that is what it is)...you will know exactly what I was going through...but what you dont know is that our original bus was supposed to have a bathroom on it...turns out that one broke down and the one we now had did not have a bathroom...I did not know that when I got on there and we set off...not sure if the cousin considered this when he hustled me up the stairs...I will give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he was unaware just how sick I was...and exactly what problem I had...but the next day and a half riding the bus all the way to Mecca was pure agony....and thats putting it lightly.

to be continued...

The Pedophile Prophets Latest Conquests

I've never been one to suffer the ignorance of people whose soul objective in life is to spew hateful words and create conflict and division where ever and when ever possible...I especially hate it when it concerns religion and prophets. Any religion and any prophet....

Now, as a Muslim, I must admit that the prophet of Islam holds a special spot in my heart but that doesnt mean I hold other prophets any lower in my eyes...they are all highly esteemed men who dedicated themselves to accomplishing a near impossible job....getting people to change what they believe...if you have ever tried to change someones mind about something they have spent a lifetime believing then you might understand, at least in a small way, what these men were up against. Throw religion into the mix and the "nearly impossible" part comes into play.

When it comes to the age old game of "my religion(prophet) is better than yours" ...history proves time and again it can be a dangerous game for the losers. However...men, those lovers of all things concerning bloodshed and death, have lost the lust for actual physical battles in the war on religion...they mostly stick to using words(which can be just as powerful and devasting)...and only battle and kill now...not in the name of God...but for more important idols, such as oil and "sacred land."

So it truly shames me for my fellow man(and I use the term lightly) that the war over religions has not only fallen to the written word but that slander, false accusations...and just down right evil is the best the "other side" can come up with. I say if you feel your right for whatever reasons...use your religion/prophet to prove yours is right...if all you've got as an "argument" are wild accusations and slander against the "enemy's prophet" then why even enter the fray to begin with? You just sound like a petulant child that has resorted to name calling when you realize the battle for strength or reason is lost.

Recently, once again while persuing a post about hijab(sigh), what started out as a fairly sound discourse quickly fell into the usual slanging match that basically boiled down to the "argument of last defense"....your prophet was a "bloodthirsty pedophile that rampaged and pillaged and created Islam just for his own sexual perversions."...or something along those lines. When I see this phrase...or something like it...pop up into the debate...I know hope for open dialogue is gone...along with reason...and there is no need to go on. You cannot debate with such closed minded individuals...so better to concede your "loss" and leave the scene of the accident...the accident being the complete inability of some to understand the completely basic assumption that while your religion and prophet maybe the "only right one" for YOU...it may not be for someone else. You know...that whole live and let live thing.

I'm currently in a little war of words with one such close minded individual...it was going along pretty good until he made the his last desperate claim for superiority....first he claimed that the Quran was ...."pornographically evil ...and then...., "Who knows how many other six years old girls Muhammad ogled and then, three years later, f*cked, as the old, dirty arsehole he was." ....when I read this(and a few other comments) I knew the battle of reason was lost...no need to continue....but I left one last post...hoping he had time to reconsider his stance and come up with something a little more intellectual and worthy of debate....here is what I posted.

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"pornographically evil quran"

Wow! I have to admit...havent heard it described quite like that. Thank you for a new addition to my growing list of colorful adjectives thought up to describe an otherwise colorless book(the book itself...not the contents). I know Islam haters hate the tit for tat kind of thing when it comes to arguing but correct me if Im wrong...doesnt the bible have quite a few explicit sexual scenes played out quite vividly for all and children to read...I admit its been awhile since I read the Bible...but I do remember the giggles we use to get as children reading certain passages. I do believe the passages describing Mary's eventual pregnancy could be read as rape considering the words used and the "overshadowing" that was happening to her. Oh my tender young ears could barely handle such pornographic scenery played out in the Sunday classrooms of my youth.

At any rate, you said, "Who knows how many other six years old girls Muhammad ogled and then, three years later, f*cked, as the old, dirty arsehole he was." Well considering you just claimed there was enough material written on him to condemn him to 100 death sentences...I dare say if he made it a habit of taking young girls for marriage and or into his bed...wouldnt there be lots more written on just that subject. I would venture to guess there would be whole books written about the "dirty ole arsehole"...and his harem of 6 year olds...yes? I can only surmise scribes everywhere would have kept the breathless public waiting impatiently for the next installment of The Pedophile Prophets latest conquest...best sellers one and all.

I'm curious as to why when Christians fought and killed(massacred) any old non Christian(whats that number again...millions...billions..hmmm) of any religion or country etc...they are doing the "Lords Work"...when a Muslim does battle in order to defend himself against his enemies and then ultimately wins that struggle...he is a horrific murderer? The Jews are wiping out Palestinians from existence...but thats ok....Mohammed allows a tribe of Jews that reneged on a treaty to be judged by one of their own...who sentences them to death(much to their obvious surprise Im sure)...and he is considered a horrific murderer? "A sadist"? hmmmm care to clarify that point. A rapist...who did he rape?

"holds perfectly good people under his demonic spell."

I see...so a billion people currently on the planet...not to mention the uncountable numbers that have passed since his time have all been duped into believing one mad mans ranting and all so he could get his leg over...now I realize men since Adam have been consumed with the idea that all women are there for the sole purpose of providing sexual entertainment and relief for their self inflated sexual egos...but to foster the belief that a entire religion that has lasted well over 1400 years is based solely on the sexual deviances of just one man...now thats something only another man could think up. Kudos to you for imagining that many men...and women for that matter...would consider one mans fantasy life worthy of their worship and practice. If it were that easy to dupe the population into believing such a thing...I dare say we would have a hell of a lot more "religions" based only on the sexual perversions of just one man. Your a man(Im assuming)...you know very well its a lingering fantasy every man has...complete sexual compliance by a harem of willing women...and all cause "God says so"...how completely sublime.

I find it interesting that Mohammed never ordered his people to worship him...seems only reasonable if the man had such an inflated ego that he "still holds perfectly good people under his demonic spell"...but then again...Jesus never said that either...but he's got billions of people worshipping him...so one man had such complete power over his followers that to utter the words "worship me" would have been seen as the next "logical" step(yet he never dared utter such a thing)...and the other man who continually preached to his followers about One God and only woship Him...ends up being burdened with the very thing he spent his life trying to change..."the best laid plans...." and all that.

Ok...then...what else you got. ;)

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So...what do you imagine he will come back with...or will he? I find most of these sort of "debaters" throw out slander like this like handgrenades...throw and run...and dont look back to see what damage you might have caused...if any. The more advances we make in technology...the further back we fall in intellect and reason...but thats just my opinion.

A real rib splitter...chucklelicious

Today in the GDN, Manama Municipal Council vice-chairman Tariq Al Shaikh, got fairly pissed that the Danish football team were allowed to come play the Bahrain national team. It seems this esteemed MP figures the football team are indirectly at fault for being Danish and therefore in cahoots(love that word) with the Danish newspaper that printed the "offensive" cartoons of our Prophet Mohammed a few years back. He says, "We can't accept anyone who makes a mockery of our Prophet."...I find this particular phrase absolutely hilarious considering the very mockery the Arabs themselves have done to the Prophet by ignoring his teachings in favour of their own culture based "religious" law. If that aint the epitome of hypocrisy I dont know what is.

We must ask ourselves as Muslims, would our Prophet be more ashamed at what some nonMuslims who dont believe in him or his message from God do to show their intolerance and idiocy...or would he be more ashamed to see the state of Islam today as perpetrated by his very own followers? Im thinking the second choice. I just find it so damned hilarious when Mr Muslim Anyone stands on his or her soapbox and manufactures outrage at what nonMuslims get up to...and then sit back down and suddenly become unable to garner the same amount of outrage when faced with honor killings, corruption, forced marriages, forced divorces, oppression of women...rapes etc...all in the name of "Islam"...hypocrisy thy name is Arab. You just sound like a horses ass Mr Tariq...so climb down off your soap box before you get a nose bleed.

I might also point out that one Mr Mohammed responded to my Bike Beef letter in todays GDN as well....he made the astounding statement that while Hidd people were kind and generous(no argument here) that they pretty much minded their own business and left people alone. Now if my ribs werent all ready split from the fall down on the floor laugh fest I had over Mr Tariq's comment...I would definitely give Mr Mohammed a few gigles as thats just plain rediculous. I have lived in Hidd for over 10 years...Hidd people do not leave people alone...they do not mind their own business...and they do let you know it when your own business puts a bee in their bonnet about what they consider the "real" Islamic practice...and what you might have the nerve to do in front of them...therefore tread on their sensitive "Muslim" sensibilities. These are the same Muslims who, while minding their business and not mine, deemed it proper Islamic behavoir to destroy the name and self esteem of my 13 year old daughter because she was taken by force by some grown men into their car...and yet everyone assumed she was a slut out for some fun. Those men are in jail now...where they belong...yet the Hidd people have not "forgiven" my daughter...and she was a victim...once by the men...and then by her own community...that loves to mind their own business. Mr Mohammed, I say to you...unless you walked in my Nike's keep you two cents(fils) in your hasala...riding my bike down the main street of Hidd is looking more and more enticing...I will keep you posted.