My calculated risk
February 27, 2015 by Thomas Wictor
Every now and then I’m reminded that what I do is dangerous. However, for me it’s a calculated risk, as I’ll explain in a moment. Today the American writer and blogger Avijit Roy was murdered in Bangladesh. He was killed by Islamists with machetes as he left a book fair. His wife was seriously injured.
Roy was an outspoken atheist. Here’s a mindset I find unfathomable.
Hardline Islamist groups have long demanded the public killing of atheist bloggers and sought new laws to deal with writing critical of Islam.
Imagine saying with a straight face that you have the right to murder someone because he isn’t religious. Murder committed over insults to Islam is savagely retrograde, but at least such crimes have an understandable if perverted rationale. I had no idea that Islamists also reserve the right to murder those who simply choose to not believe in any deity.
When I first began debunking Pallywood videos, I got deaths threats. In response, I wrote posts reminding people that I’m heavily armed at all times. The death threats from Muslims stopped. Now the only such messages I get are from an eighty-two-year-old Nazi whose wagon I will shortly fix. Though I’m not concerned that he’ll follow through on his promises, he deserves to have what’s left of his life destroyed. One of my credos is to always give people what they work so hard to achieve.
Last night I discovered one of the most brilliant writers I’ve ever come across. Her pen name is Kola Boof.
She asked me to call her Kola, so I will. Kola has agreed to an interview for my Website, which I’ll post on March 24, 2015. That’s the day she’ll publish a book on her passionate support for Israel.
What stunned me about Kola is that she has no formal education, which means she’s an advanced being from the future, come back here by time machine, I guess. She writes the way I always wished I could.
“Everybody Lied on Me”
Walking up the icy concrete
You see the snow on the fences
On your face so young…
The cleanest blue ever-clear/all outdoors
Dough Roller says:
You tell the truth
and yet telling the truth doesn’t set you free.
It makes you sick.
In fact the more you tell it, the sicker you git.
Paper boy throws.
Computers done wrote a newspaper.
Paper boy throws. Somebody’s power.
To publish a newspaper.
There are all kinds of truths and all
kind of tellers.
The truth can get you killed.
Rolling Pin/Dough Hands:
There are all kinds of lies and all
kinds of listeners.
Sometimes lies ring true.
It takes truth to make up a good lie.
There are all manner of bikes and
all kinds of paper boys.
All kinds of brain waves for all kinds of channels.
It’s your dream…this beautiful truth.
You are walking up the icy concrete.
You see the Snow on the fences.
You feel the earth move beneath your icy feet.
Whispers tickle like hair in your nose.
Don’t plant your garden in the Snow.
In the “Night of the Living Dead” section of Diary of a Lost Girl, Boof asks the question, “What was it like to hear the murder of your parents—how did it feel?” She answers, “It was so overwhelming and so traumatic…that I can only describe it as being like a kind of birth…I couldn’t believe in anything. I call it the ‘living dead’ because in the morning it was like birth…I felt myself becoming fearless…That’s what fearless is—being ready to leave this life behind.
I know we’re all supposed to think that Sarah Palin is stupid, but when she was asked how she felt when her son Track was about to deployed to Iraq as part of the 25th Infantry Division’s 1st Stryker Brigade Combat Team, she said, “We’re ready.”
Easily one of the most elegant answers I’ve ever heard from the mother of a child about to go to war.
My brother Tim and I are fearless for the same reason Kola is. We’re ready. That doesn’t mean we want to go; in fact I’d love to hang out for a few more decades. But we just aren’t afraid. Only one thing scares me.
I can’t shake my terror of flying. Actually, my terror of crashing. If I had 100 percent assurance that the aircraft would arrive safely, I’d love flying. It’s not a rational fear, because dying in an airliner crash would be much less painful than being beheaded by a Muslim terrorist. It’s probably a control issue. I want to fly the airliner.
Did you know that I can knock you out by kicking you in the thigh? I can also break your neck with the heel of my hand. By using the palms of both hands, I can kill you. You’d never guess where I’d hit you to do that. I studied martial arts for years, and I inherited my father’s freakish physical strength and ability to inflict massive bodily harm.
Well, in reality I taught myself how to inflict massive bodily harm. I inherited the desire to hurt. In my case the lust for violence arose out of all-encompassing fear. Now I’m fearless. Except for aviophobia.
Becoming fearless had a strange side effect: It made me even more likely to utilize lethal force. The death threats, hate, and abuse have convinced me that I’d have no problem whatsoever taking the life of an attacker. I’d shoot him in the mouth. Since a Jew-hater trying to kill me would likely be shouting, the open mouth would be a perfect target.
I’d sleep like a baby afterward. As I said, I’m not afraid that terrorists will hunt me down. Avijit Roy told the New York Times about a message posted on Facebook.
Avijit Roy lives in America and so it is not possible to kill him right now. But he will be murdered when he comes back.
Kola Boof tells me that she’s been banned from Facebook seventeen times for defending Israel. What are the odds that the Islamist who openly announced the coming murder of Avijit Roy was banned? But I’ve been informed that being in the US offers a measure of protection for a variety of reasons. People shouldn’t worry about my welfare. The FBI is aware of the threats made against me, as is the sheriff’s station down the street.
Mainly, however, everyone knows that Americans tend to be armed. Being the object of so much hate and seeing what’s done to completely innocent people in the name of hate has strengthened my resolve to survive any kind of assault on me and to cause as much unnecessary pain to my attackers as I can. The notion that people are murdered because of words fills me with rage.
That’s why I load my guns with hollow-point bullets. I imagine that a hollow point fired into someone’s mouth will ruin his day.
I’m sorry, Avijit Roy. They feared your words, and even though they knew you had no defense against their blades, they ambushed you from behind. After they killed you, they ran.
You had more courage than all of them put together.
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