Blasphemy

The murders at Charlie Hebdo continue to generate fears both in Europe and in America, so here’s a suggestion. I think the FM (f*cking morons–see previous blog) should inundate their newspapers and websites with insulting caricatures of the Pope,  the Dalai Lama, any important Jewish religious figure and, of course, Jesus Christ himself. This might make the FM feel better and less likely to rely on firepower to avenge the alleged blasphemy washed upon their deity. A sort of tit-for-tat, if you will.

 

But here’s the thing I don’t fully understand. According to Fareed Zakaria, perhaps the best-known Muslim in the States, “the word blasphemy appears nowhere in the Koran. Nor, incidentally, does the Koran anywhere forbid creating images of Muhammad.” Zakaria quotes Islamic scholar Maulana Wahiduddin Khan who states that, “In Islam, blasphemy is a subject of intellectual discussion rather than a subject of physical punishment.”

 

Personally, I think even the FM would be better off trading their semi-automatics for a set of Primacolor colored pencils and a good quality sketch pad. There are untold numbers of offensive caricatures available to them. The Pope on the potty might be a likely subject. Or perhaps the Dalai Lama butchering a steer? And there are jokes. My favorite horrible Christian joke was told to me by a hardcore born-again Catholic friend: Christ, on the cross, turns to one of the two thieves crucified with him and says, “Hey! I can see your house from here!” (F*cking Morons: You can use this with attribution.)

 

This is probably as close to blasphemy as one can get within Christianity, a humorless faith when it comes to punishing the sacrilegious. According to Leviticus 20:14, “Anyone who blasphemes the name of the Lord is to be put to death.”  Yikes. In spite of this, to the best of my knowledge, no one in recent times has been executed for tasteless Christian humor. Which I am sure is not the case for the radical Islamist with a penchant for decapitation, which is not funny at all.

 

Since I live in the Washington, D.C., area, I have followed with minor interest the saga of our hapless pro football team, the Redskins. Their name has come under mounting criticism since the word “Redskin” is pejorative, say a growing number of Native Americans. There have been peaceful protests, petitions, legal proceedings, and an untold number of newspaper editorials, and it does look as if in the near future the team owner will cave. It won’t be because he has qualms about using a racial slur, but because the continued use of the word will cost him money.

 

What has not happened is a bunch of pissed off Native Americans with automatic weapons invading the office of the team owner and assassinating the staff. I’d be willing to bet that the Reskins name is as offensive to them as anything Charlie Hebdo has printed.

 

One of the things that must happen to stem the atrocities committed by various BFMs is community policing.  It’s hard to believe that in Cherif and Said Kouachi’s Muslim neighborhoods near Paris, not a single person knew what the brothers were doing. Their parents and family claimed the two men had no radical ties and showed no signs of extremism. Yet the Kouachis had traveled to Yemen and Syria and trained in the open. They even named their cell after a nearby public park. 

 

If indeed others knew of the assassination plans and failed to report them, then they too are guilty of murder.