Iraq`s Sexy Salad Days
When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.
When you or I look at a tomato we see a tomato. All over the world, tomatoes look exactly like tomatoes, but when you grow up under a sexually-repressed, female-enslaved, male-dominated system such as Islam, then tomatoes look like the image here or worse. Which is why vegetable stands in Iraq cannot have cucumbers and tomatoes together.
Here's why:
Islamic Law In Our Times, Stupidity and the Shari'a in Our Times
Buying vegetables in Baghdad, actually all of Iraq, feels like a trip through history. There are people with wooden stands that look as if they have been around for thousands of years, all containing various crates of vegetables. An old and dusty scale sits somewhere near the proprietor, and as vegetables are selected, he places them on the scale, along with some iron weights and announces a weight that always seems to be suspect, as I cannot determine the weight amount, or that it has reached equilibrium as he carries out this operation. As he was doing this, he let it be known he was in the Anbar while Al Qaeda controlled it, and I felt I had to ask him about their alleged prohibition of salad.
"Yes, yes, he replied." No cucumbers and tomatoes together. Even placing them side by side in these crates would have led at least to a whipping, maybe death. I was puzzled, my brother in law was not. He told me that in fact when he was in Kirkuk the graffiti forbade three things: salads (which in Iraq is basically cucumber and tomatoes), shorts and beauty products for men. This was hard to understand.
"Look at this," the vegetable seller said to me, holding up a tomato. "What does it look like?"
"A tomato," I said.
"No, it is a tomato, but what does it look like."
"It looks like a tomato, that's what leads me to conclude it is a tomato. If it looked like a horse, I'd say it was a horse. It does not. It looks like a tomato. It is a tomato." I think I am making a philosophical point, maybe Hume or something, but it's almost 120F outside and I don't want to be dilly dallying asking about Al Qaeda. If the terrorists don't get me, the police might. Hume can wait.
"Okay," he relents, "what else might it resemble? Notice it is red, like a woman's lipstick. It is soft and round. Get it? It reminds you of a woman's flesh."
"I see," I said. But I thought, man do you need a wife if you look at a tomato and think that.
Then he picked up the cucumber and was about to ask me what I thought it looked like, when I cut him off. That one I could follow better. If a tomato was a woman, I could well assume what a cucumber was.
Previously I posted an article that Muslims view unveiled women as sizzling, juicy steaks thus inviting rape and abuse.
Muslim men will tell you that contrary to the evidence of your own eyes, Muslim women enjoy many rights, that Islam was the first religion to treat women as the equal of men. Of course, Muslim women who escape the prison known as Islam report differently.
Middle East Report, On Women’s Captivity in the Islamic World
In the unprecedented flourishing of writings about Islam in the United States in recent years, one category of books—life stories of women—has been the most popular, attracting the attention of politicians, publishers, the media and the reading public alike. In an old narrative frame of captivity recast for the present-day reader, some of these memoirs and autobiographies portray the Muslim woman as a virtual prisoner. She is the victim of an immobilizing faith, locked up inside her mandatory veil—a mobile prison shrunk to the size of her body. She has no real voice or visibility, nowhere to escape to, no protection, no shelter, no freedom of movement. Captivity is her destiny. Ayaan Hirsi Ali, the bestselling author of Infidel and The Caged Virgin who was named by Time in 2005 as one of the 100 people who shape our lives, sums up this mindset when she describes Islam as “a mental cage,” a set of “mental bars,” and Muslim women as “trapped in that cage.”
What we in the West need to do is an intervention for one and a half billion brainwashed souls trapped in the cult called Islam.
Click here to see a downright nasty photo of peaches doing it.
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