Islamic Doublespeak

In comparison to Western ideals of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness which includes free speech and religious freedom, Islam is an evil antithetical to the American paradigm.

One example of this evil is how proponents of Islam will say one thing in the language considered holy to Islam as compared to the English translation of the same Arabic text. The obvious intent is to deceive with a sanitized version that is palatable to duped Westerners dedicated to the fallacy of multicultural diversity. Raymond Ibrahim discusses this deception in the essay “Shameless Islamist Doublespeak Rages On.”

JRH 12/27/09

The War on Terror continues...

Sept11_c540

Even though I do not get to do it as much as I would like, writing short stories continues to be something that I thoroughly enjoy. The story below took me in a direction that I had never been as far as my writing is concerned: The Korean War. I spent a lot of time researching this story and learned quite a bit about "The Forgotten War". When it was finally completed (it took over a month to write) I was very happy with the results. It is not typical of anything that I have written before, but I like it nonetheless. And it's a good thing when you can appreciate your own writing. Maybe I am alone in this, but a lot of times I finish a story and feel like something is missing, that I could have said something differently. I can honestly say that did not happen this time.

I am going to post it, knowing full well that most people will see how long it is and decide against reading it. If you do decide to read it, however, I would really like to know what you think.

1952 – North Korea  

Without warning all of the instruments went haywire. A plume of acrid, gray smoke filled the cockpit and Captain Billy Mitchell felt intense heat on his feet. He tried to make a call on his radio headset, fully aware that it had been malfunctioning for the past ten minutes, but the attempt was useless. With his vision completely obscured by smoke and his lungs screaming for fresh air he reached for the ejection handles, feeling his spine compress as the explosion blew him into the open sky. In a matter of seconds he was floating under a lofty, green parachute and he watched in eerie silence as his F-86 Sabre jet fighter slammed into the rugged terrain, erupting into a large fireball.

He pulled the parachute cord hard to the right so he could put as much distance between himself and the jet as possible. Spotting an open, level area he aimed for it, hoping to avoid getting caught in the trees. As he slowly drifted down the adrenaline began to wear off and he felt the effects of the ejection taking its toll on his body. A dull pain crept up his back and a distinct, high pitched ring echoed in his ears. He desperately tried to focus on steering the parachute toward the opening, but his arms suddenly felt weak and listless. From the edges of his eyes a curtain of darkness slowly closed in, but he fought it long enough to guide himself to his target. Just before touching the ground he finally passed out and his body collapsed and rolled, causing his head to strike the ground with a sick thud. 

When he woke up a blurry figure was leaning over him. He blindly swung a fist upwards, but in his weakened state the blow merely glanced off. Billy’s arms were quickly pinned to his sides and two bony knees were placed on top of them. Someone was straddling his chest. His vision cleared up enough to see that he was being held down by an older, Korean man. A tousled mass of black hair sat on top of a perfectly round head. Dark brown skin was stretched tight across his face, making his large brown eyes seem to bulge out more than they actually did. He wasn’t dressed in a uniform, but had on a tattered white shirt and some sort of dark colored pants. He placed one dirty hand over Billy’s mouth, pulled the other one up to his own so that a finger was pressed to his lips and quietly whispered, “Shhhhh.”

The man sat on top of Billy for a moment listening intently. Billy tried to listen too, but his ears were still ringing and his head ached from where he had hit the ground. When the Korean was satisfied that everything was okay he slowly pulled off of Billy and moved so that he was standing directly over him. Then, he extended a hand, gestured for him to get up and said, “We must hurry.”

Billy was confused. His mind was racing and his whole body was hurting, especially his head. Was this man really trying to help him? The Korean stood there, arm extended, scanning the area nervously. He gestured again for Billy to get up and then impatiently leaned over and placed an arm behind his neck. The man had somehow managed to remove Billy from the parachute while he was still unconscious, so he was free to stand up without hindrance.

Billy realized the only choice he had was to trust him. He was too weak to fight and if the man wanted to kill him then he would have done it already. Painfully, Billy stood up and the Korean moved his arm around his waist. Billy was six foot tall and weighed one hundred eighty pounds. The smaller, Korean was almost a foot shorter and fifty pounds lighter, but held up the injured pilot with little difficulty. As they stepped out of the opening and into the woods, Billy couldn’t help but wonder if he was being led to his death.

Billy had no way of knowing, but Chang Duk Yoon was on his side. He was North Korean, but only two days earlier his village had been attacked by nine soldiers from the North Korean Army. He returned from visiting a neighboring village only two hours after they left to find his wife on the floor of their home, badly wounded and barely breathing.

He gently picked her head up and through labored breaths she told him their sixteen year old daughter survived the onslaught, but had been taken by one of the soldiers. She whispered the soldier’s name into Duk’s ear, “Imugi.” Duk only had a few minutes with his wife of twenty-three years before she silently passed into the next life. As he pulled her lifeless body close to his chest he made a solemn vow that he would do everything possible to find their daughter.   

That was three days ago. He had been on the trail of the soldiers ever since and he knew they were close by, but he wasn’t sure how he would get past all of the armed men to save his daughter. He was thinking about it when a loud explosion rocked the forest and the parachute showed up in the sky. Now, as he helped the injured pilot through the trees, he pondered this strange turn of events.    

They had been walking for about five minutes when the silence was broken by machine gun fire and bullets tore up the ground in front of them. Seemingly out of nowhere, four North Korean soldiers appeared pointing their guns at the two men. The last thought that crossed Billy’s mind before the butt of the rifle slammed across his face was, I knew I couldn’t trust him. 

 The sun was just going down when they arrived at a small village. Two of the soldiers drug Billy away and the other two escorted Duk toward a large, mud hut. Inside the hut, a man sitting in a crude, hand-made chair motioned one of the soldiers forward. To his right, crumpled on the floor beside the chair, was Duk’s daughter, Min. Her clothes were torn and ragged, barely clinging to her body. Her raven black hair was disheveled and hanging around her face. Duk suddenly realized that he had unwittingly found a way into Imugi’s camp. Min looked up as he walked in and a spark of recognition registered in her eyes. Duk gave her a quick, stern glance and then looked away, praying that she wouldn’t say anything. Thankfully, Imugi was listening to the soldier and wasn’t paying attention to his daughter.

After the soldier stepped away Imugi barked out in Korean, “Why were you helping the American?”

Duk knew the lie had to be good or he was sure to lose his life.  “I was not helping the American; I was bringing him to you. I saw him fall from the sky and I knew your camp was here. I thought you would like to have some fun with him.”

Imugi studied him closely. “Tell me old man, why should I believe you?”

Duk tried to speak without fear in his voice, “I only have my honor to offer you. I hope that is enough.”

The edges of Imugi’s mouth turned up slightly and a perverse smile formed on his thin lips. His greasy, black hair was combed forward and it hung just above two hollow, black eyes. His face was emaciated, his cheek bones were high and his skin was somewhat pale, giving him the appearance of a skeleton with a hairpiece. He spoke callously, “I don’t believe in honor.”

A shaft of moonlight penetrated the small building and gently caressed Billy’s face. He was lying on a wooden floor with his hands tied behind his back, completely naked except for his underwear. He stayed there a moment without moving, slowly gathering his senses. He had no problem remembering what had happened: the aircraft malfunction, the parachute, the bug eyed Korean who offered to help and then turned him in. The events of the day came back with crystal clarity, but he quickly pushed the thoughts aside to take on the problem at hand. He was a prisoner. Somehow he had to escape.

Every muscle in his body seemed to revolt at the movement, but he managed to ease himself up so that he was sitting on his knees. His head was throbbing and he could tell that his face was swollen. His sides hurt as well. It was obvious that his captors had taken a few cheap shots while he was unconscious.

He looked around the room. By the moonlight he could see that the walls were plastered with mud and the roof was thatched, made from some kind of straw material. There was an open window just to the right of the door about three feet off the floor and through it Billy could see the outline of a soldier’s head. There was nothing in the room but a small chair and the air was damp. It smelled like the underbelly of a dirty, wet dog.

The soldier at the window moved and the door swung open. Two soldiers with lanterns stepped in and spread around the room. Then, a sickly looking man with hair hanging down into his face walked in. He wore a crumpled North Korean uniform. The stub of a cigarette was stuck between his lips and a wreath of smoke followed slowly behind him. He stopped directly in front of the prisoner and then nodded at one of the soldiers. The man moved behind Billy and placed a hand on each side of his face. Then he jerked his head back so that he was staring up at the ceiling. With his hands tied behind his back and his knees pressed to the floor, Billy watched helplessly as Imugi moved over him, fumbled with the fly of his pants and then proceeded to urinate on his face.

A wave of nausea swept over him as the warm fluid covered his face, went up his nose and trickled into his mouth. The room filled with laughter as he coughed and gagged, fighting to get away. Finally, when Imugi was done, the soldier released Billy and stepped away. Defiantly, Billy looked straight at his aggressor, fighting the urge to blink away the urine, his bright blue eyes boring deep into the dark, black orbs of the other man.

The bold stare of the American pilot caught Imugi by surprise. He studied the man’s face. It was badly bruised, but he could still make out the square chin and rugged good looks underneath the battered, swollen flesh. His blonde hair was cut close to his head and a contemptuous snarl rested firmly on his tightly pressed lips.

Imugi stepped back, slightly troubled. He yelled something and someone was violently pushed through the door. Billy recognized him right away as the bug eyed Korean who had turned him in. His hands were tied behind his back and his shirt had been removed. His face was bloody and there were angry, red stripes all over his chest and stomach.

Duk was forced onto the floor right beside Billy and Imugi began to speak irately, gesturing wildly with his hands and stomping his feet. To Billy, he looked like a toddler throwing a fit because someone had taken his toy away. When the outburst was over Duk translated, “He wants you to know that his name is Imugi and that you have become his prisoner. He says that starting tomorrow morning you will be tortured and killed in front of all of his men so that they can see just how weak America really is. He also says if you wish to beg for mercy he will allow it now.”

Billy looked at Imugi and then at Duk. With a hint of sarcasm in his voice he said, “You can tell him to piss off.”

Duk hesitated before translating his response. “He will not appreciate your humor. I would suggest that you choose your words wisely.”

“I don’t care what you suggest! Just tell him what I said.”

Tentatively, Duk relayed the message. The room became deathly silent and Imugi leaned over, placing his face only inches away from Billy’s. The stench of cooked cabbage, cigarettes and body odor permeated from the man’s skin and Billy had to fight the convulsion to gag. Sweat beaded up on Billy's forehead, mixed with the urine that was already there and dripped onto the floor, but he continued to stare into the eyes of the enemy. Finally, and unexpectedly, Imugi spit in Billy’s face.

Forgetting all the pain in his body, Billy shot to his feet and rammed Imugi with his shoulder. A girlish scream filled the air and Imugi fell backwards, slamming into the wall of the hut, but before Billy could do anything else all three of the soldiers were on top of him. He was thrown onto the ground and heavy boots started ramming into him from all directions. He could still feel the steady pounding as darkness once again enveloped him. 

Billy opened his eyes slowly. Pain gripped every part of his body and he could feel his swollen face throbbing with every heartbeat. He tried to sit up, but a sharp sting through the ribs made him think twice about it. Out of the darkness a voice whispered, “Try to keep quiet, the guard is asleep.”

Without success, Billy tried to remember what had happened. His memories were like a vaporous cloud, hovering just out of reach. Then the voice came again, “This could be our chance to escape.”

Escape. Yes, that’s it. He was a prisoner. His mind slowly cleared and the events of the day came flooding back. But who was here with him? A hand touched his shoulder, “I will help you up.” As he was being helped to a sitting position Billy recognized his fellow prisoner. Before he had a chance to say anything the other man spoke, “My name is Duk. I know you probably do not believe it, but I am not your enemy.” Then, sensing that he needed to explain his actions, he painfully went through his wife’s death, his daughter’s kidnapping and how he had been following the North Koreans when he saw Billy in his parachute. Then he explained how he had found his daughter, only to be beaten and scheduled for execution.

Billy listened, mostly because he lacked the strength to do anything else. He asked, “Then why did you lead me to them?”

“I did not know they were there. I was trying to lead you to safety.”

Billy didn’t know if he should believe him or not, but once again he found himself in the uncomfortable position of having very limited choices.

Duk continued in a hushed voice, “I was able to untie our hands and the guard is asleep. The sun will be coming up soon so we need to act quickly. I will take you to the Americans once we get away, but I will not leave without my daughter. ”

Billy hesitated a moment. “How many soldiers are in this camp?”

“Nine, including Imugi.”

“And just how do you plan to get past all of them?”

“I do not know, but I have to try.”

Billy thought through it. If he could get out of the hut then maybe he could get to the woods and away from the camp, but after that he would be lost. He needed Duk to show him the way. He wondered what he would do if it were his own daughter.  Finally, he said, “Okay, I’ll probably regret it, but I’ll help you get your daughter if you’ll help me get away. I’d much rather go out fighting than sit here and wait for death to come to me.” In the shadowy darkness Billy saw the relieved look on the older man’s face. He didn’t give Duk a chance to respond, “Do we have anything that we can use for weapons?”

Duk flashed a toothy grin and held up two pieces of rope.

Billy let out a heavy sigh. “Great.”

The sleeping guard never saw the rope as it went around his throat. Leaning out the window, Billy held on tightly and squeezed with every ounce of strength that he had, pushing through the searing pain that wracked his ribs. Before long, the man stopped thrashing around and his body went limp.

Duk vanished through the door and drug the lifeless guard inside. Like vultures they went through everything he had, ending up with a long knife, a .44 carbine cavalry rifle and a Colt .45 pistol. Billy recognized the pistol right away as the one he was wearing when he ejected from the plane. He picked it up and looked at it wistfully. “Good to see you again my friend.” Then, he took the guard’s pants and put them on. They were too short and too tight, but it was better than running around in his underwear.

The night was still dark, but they could see enough to get around. We’ll go straight for Imugi’s hut,” said Billy. “With any luck we won’t see anyone on the way and we can get your daughter and get out of here.”

Duk led the way as they crept through the village. Just as they passed one of the other huts they surprised a soldier relieving himself behind a tree. Before the man had a chance to recover from what he was seeing Duk jammed the knife deep into his chest. The soldier’s eyes opened wide and he crumpled to the ground. Duk pulled out the knife and walked on, leaving Billy dumbfounded.

Billy whispered, “That was fast.”

Hardly out of breath Duk answered, “I will kill them all if I have to.” At that point, Billy believed him.

The shadow of Imugi’s hut came into view and they slowed their pace, moving as quietly as possible. When they were less than fifty feet away the orange glow of a cigarette caught their attention and both men stopped. From the safety of the darkened tree line they watched as one soldier, and then another, stepped in front of the hut. They talked loudly, oblivious to the eyes watching them. After a short visit the cigarette was crushed out and they walked off in opposite directions.

“They must be patrolling the camp,” said Billy. “We need to take them out before they find out that we’re missing.” Without a word Duk slipped off toward the southbound soldier, knife in hand. Billy took the .44 cavalry rifle and moved to follow the other one.

Completely bored with making his rounds, the young North Korean walked along noisily, barely seeing his surroundings. He didn’t hear Billy sneak up behind him and never knew what hit him as the bayonet silently pierced his heart. Billy paused a moment over the youthful soldier, taking in the face of the first person he ever killed in hand to hand combat. Slightly disturbed, he picked up the man’s rifle and headed back toward the hut. Duk arrived at the same time, wiping the big knife on his pants leg.

A scream filled the air and Duk took off toward Imugi’s hut with Billy right behind him. Bursting through the door Duk found Imugi in bed and on top of his daughter. Startled, Imugi turned and saw him standing at the door. He swiftly moved off of Min and found the pistol that he kept by the bedside, pulling the trigger just as Duk leaped at him. Duk slumped to the floor and Imugi immediately fired toward Billy as he rushed into the door, but he managed to dive out of the way. Imugi continued to fire, sending pieces of the wooden floor flying through the air. When the gun was empty he jerked Min up by the hair and placed a skinny arm around her throat

As Imugi screamed obscenities in Korean, Billy moved out of the shadows pointing the Colt .45. The cowardly leader placed the frightened girl between himself and the American and slowly started toward the door. Excited voices came from outside and heavy footsteps drew close. Imugi smiled as the odds turned in his favor and he started barking orders to the soldiers.

Billy held his aim, refusing to back down. Just before the soldiers reached the door Imugi moved out from behind Min and Billy took the shot. Imugi flew backwards onto the floorboards, taking Min with him. 

Two soldiers rushed through the door and Billy turned instinctively, firing at the moving figures. Both men fell to the floor and then machine gun fire tore into the hut, striking the walls and thatched roof.

Billy dove onto his stomach and then heard shots ring out from inside the hut. He breathed a sigh of relief as he looked to see Duk on one knee, firing a rifle into the darkness. A line of blood ran down his face where Imugi’s bullet had grazed his head.

Outside the hut everything got silent. Billy stealthily crawled to the door and positioned himself behind one of the dead soldiers. Slowly, he peered over the lifeless body. One enemy was down and the other was crouched beside him, pointing his machine gun toward the hut, clearly confused about what he should do. Billy took aim and fired the pistol. The North Korean fell backwards, but jumped up and took off running. Billy got off one more shot before the soldier disappeared into the tree line, stumbling as he ran.

Billy heard voices behind him and he turned to see Duk helping Min off of the floor. She wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and joyful sobs from both of them suddenly filled the night air.

Concerned that Imugi might still be alive, he walked past the tearful couple and knelt down beside him. His eyes were wide open, as if he were in a complete state of shock. And there, in the center of his forehead was a hole where the Colt .45 bullet had entered into his brain. “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Billy whispered under his breath.

He thought about what had just happened. The odds were against them, but a battered and beaten, half naked American soldier and a skinny, bug eyed North Korean father had just taken on nine North Korean soldiers and come out on top. Together, they had been a deadly, two man army waging their own private insurrection against Imugi and his band of misfits. Billy wasn’t sure what else the Korean War held for him, but he knew that if he could make it through this, then he could make it through anything.

He hated to interrupt their reunion, but he wanted to get as far away from the village as possible. “Duk,” said Billy, “We need to get moving, one of them got away. Take your daughter and wait outside, I have a gift for Imugi.”

With tears of joy streaming down his face Duk looked toward Billy and nodded. Then he asked, “What gift could you possibly have for him?”

Billy smiled, “Let’s just say that I’d like to return a favor.”

As Duk led his daughter through the ransacked hut, Billy stood over the lifeless face of Imugi and fumbled for the fly of pants.    

PART 1 http://a12iggymom.vox.com/library/post/officials-northwest-airlines-flight-253-possible-terror-attack-on-northwest-jet.html

UPDATE 12 http://abclocal.go.com/wpvi/story?section=news/national_world&id=7189832

WASHINGTON (AP) - December 27, 2009 -- The Associated Press has learned that a second Nigerian man has been taken into custody aboard a jetliner in Detroit after locking himself in the airliner's bathroom.

A law enforcement official tells the AP that the incident took place aboard the same Northwest flight that was attacked on Christmas Day. The official spoke on condition of anonymity because the incident was ongoing.

A Delta spokeswoman says all 256 passengers have been safely taken off the plane. Delta operates the Northwest flight.

Truth About Islam

2 comments

Yesterday’s Ben’s Blog post could very easily be a comment to this post: “Midair “Mother of Satan Bomb” Attempt Fails”.

Ben writes about a petition to WAKE-UP about the threat of Islam to our society.

JRH 12/27/09

The tales of the privilaged jihadi, http://michellemalkin.com/2009/12/27/the-myth-of-the-poor-oppressed-jihadist/

Apparently, Being Dem Means Not Having to Pay Rent http://www.publiusforum.com/2009/12/27/apparently-being-dem-means-not-having-to-pay-rent/

Or paying taxes: Govt Tax Delinquents http://davegj13.wordpress.com/2009/12/16/government-employees-are-tax-delinquents/

December 23, 2009

And then there is this, more hatred for the military.

Dennis Kucinich says Generals who spoke publicly on Afghan strategy should lose jobs (aka Gen. Stanley McChrystal)

Leave it to the U.S. media to show what these far left “progressive” Congressman. Oh that’s right, the lame stream media didn’t mention it. We have to use an interview with “Russia Today” to hear his thoughts. According to The Hill, Kucinich says Generals who spoke publicly on Afghan strategy should lose jobs. While like a true liberal or progressive or whatever they call themselves today, Kucinich wouldn’t name names directly, who’s the one who spoke out while Obama dithered? Oh that’s right, it was General Stanley McChrystal!

“Some of his generals made remarks publicly, which is really unheard of,” he said. “You know, generals are subordinate to the president who is the commander-in-chief. He’s the boss. And when generals start trying to suggest publicly what the president should do, they shouldn’t be generals anymore.”

Omar Ahmad
Co-Founder of the Council on American-Islamic Relations
President and CEO of Silicon Expert Technologies.
Former Islamic Association for Palestine (IAP) Officer.

“Those who stay in America should be open to society without melting, keeping Mosques open so anyone can come and learn about Islam. If you choose to live here, you have a responsibility to deliver the message of Islam … Islam isn’t in America to be equal to any other faiths, but to become dominant. The Koran, the Muslim book of scripture, should be the highest authority in America, and Islam the
only accepted religion on Earth.”

http://loganswarning.com/?p=594

This is NOT the only school teaching this garbage to Middle schoolers, heck they start in nursery school now. You can not even take a bible or christian books into a school today without being expelled, and forced to undergo psyciatric evaluations! Is this the religion/government theology YOU want YOUR kids to learn and use? See the previous post for the peace and inclusiveness of this that is being taught to your kids.

While many of us are putting in every spare moment that we have trying to fight back against Islam taking over America, we have the Smitha Middle School of Marietta Georgia, actually promoting Islam to the students there. Here are some of the slides that are being shown. This is just outrageous.

Website Smith Middle School in Georgia http://web.me.com/smithaband/smithamiddleschool/Home.html

Here are some snapshots from the powerpoint used by the school and this teacher: