Monday, February 26, 2007

It doesn't matter

I wish I didn't agree with this - I've got enough drama in my life without getting all involved in a Greatest Generation 21st Century style deal.

After we've gone through it all, once, twice, however many times it takes, they'll still be at war with us. And eventually everyone who balks even a little, at surrender to and dhimmi status within a jihadists state, will be convinced.

And when that day comes, I shouldn't like to be living in any of the countries that supply jihadist recruits and covertly support them. Nobody wages war as cruelly as a pacifist who has finally been moved to violence. (Consider Woodrow "too proud to fight" Wilson.)

The day the man with the wide-brimmed hat nods over one of our cities, the day our people start to die in numbers comparable to the flu of 1918, the day a dirty bomb goes off in downtown Manhattan, is the day the world gets reminded that this fat, happy country of ours, this cheerfully hedonistic civilization, is also the most terrible engine of slaughter the world has ever seen.

And when that day comes the pacifists won't be condemning the slaughter - they'll be the butchers. There is after all, no prude like a reformed whore.
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