O’Bamagh’s Irish Stew
by Mary Jackson (June 2011)
The Telegraph’s James Delingpole:
the most Irish US president that ever set foot on the Emerald Oisle, so he is, so he is.
talked turkey in Turkey, Harold Wilson backed the Royal Navy while in Chatham docks, and Margaret Thatcher, who could afford the best caviar, commiserated with the “ordinary” housewife-voter over the price of fish fingers. They all do it. Even our Queen has worn a headscarf, albeit like a crown, and has applauded more cavorting Maoris than she can shake a stick at.
Shallowness is appropriate in the shallows. Photo-opportunities are skin-deep – how much Obama, and his indulged mediocrity of a wife have made of their skin colour is another matter but the mind beneath, the mind of the man charged with defending the West, should be deeper, and he should see through his enemy. To judge by his comments on Northern Ireland, it is more than a Guinness that Obama sees through a glass darkly. From the Belfast Telegraph:
Quizzed over the deadlock in talks between Israel and Palestine, the US leader said he was optimistic, though not naive, about a resolution.
Good Friday Agreement.
As a complete way of life, Islam has no separate sphere in which compromises can be made. This is the main reason why comparison of Jihads like the Arab-Israeli conflict and conflicts like the Troubles are foolish. Here are some further differences, most of which arise from the eternal and all-encompassing nature of Jihad.
Secondly, Irish grievances against the British, from Cromwell to Bloody Sunday, are real. The Irish are aggrieved that their countrymen have been dispossessed and slaughtered. The point may be argued, but they have a point. Do Muslims? We hear much of Muslim grievances, for which we non-Muslims must apologise, and which we must heed if we are to remain in one piece. These include cartoons, unveiled women, novels, music, and, above all, the very existence of non-Muslim nations, free and thriving, in contradiction to the word of Allah.
assimilated into an originally hostile London — would you rather live in Kilburn or Tower Hamlets? The Irish may go on and on in a funny accent, but we inhabit the same world, and it is not that of Islam. Forget Flann O’ Brien, could Edna O'Brien or even Dara O'Briain exist in a Muslim country? Could William Trevor’s Ballroom of Romance, or Riverdance? And could there ever be a Muslim Father Ted, a comedy about three priests sharing a parochial house? “Yer Man’s an Imam” or “Five Guys Named Mo”? Don't be such an eejit. Catch yerself on.
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