If there’s an attribute common to any zealot, it’s an overwhelming self hatred for impure thoughts. Inevitably about wanting to stick your dick into children or members of the same sex. A bulk of these Muslim terrorists are deeply closeted gay men desperate to make their internal conflict stop. Who blows themselves up at an Ariana Grande concert? That’s perhaps the queerest suicide ever. Tell me you were wearing the scarf your mom made you.
Imagine hanging around the mosque after hours for the jihadi chat and people throwing out ideas for killing non-believers. Soccer matches, military installations, and one dude tosses out, Ariana Grande tour stop. Years later people will remember how Muhammed was tittering that evening. What a Nancy martyr. Did they strap the bomb around his head simply because he was an embarrassment to his hookah klatch?
This is not a religious war, it’s a growing number of pot shots from remarkably cowardly men assembled often online under a Muslim fundamentalist banner. A thin veil for weak men indulging in a exit strategy of who can be the most submissive pussy before heading off to a better afterlife. What are the odds it could be worse than hating yourself this much in this world? Minus all your new Twitter followers with beards calling you a hero.
You can’t eliminate craven shit heels from this world. It’s an unsolvable defect in humanity. There will always be gutless men searching for a high-minded rationale to cloak their personal insufficiencies. Once you’ve convinced yourself you’re a jihadist and not merely a ginormous easily offended asshole, you’ve got zero touchstones left to assess your behavior. Combatting this lowliness is akin to stopping child molestation or dudes who beat their women or their dogs. Two in the back of the head helps some, but there’s an endless supply of losers with a giant chip on their shoulder. And building bombs is only going to get easier.