I’ve reached one of those phases where I’m up to my ears in xenophobic arseheads and have no idea where to start rebutting them. Every reasonable method seems to end in a who-can-shout-louder match and believe me, I have much better things to do with my time.
There is a well-known hadith that goes: God was preparing to destroy a town full of evildoers. The angels came to Him and said, “There is one believer living here, should we save him?” God asks, “Did he speak out against the evil deeds of his fellows?” The angels reply, “No.” God says, “Then he is of no use to Me.”
I struggle to understand why, when a simple google search turns up thousands of results on “Muslims against terrorism”, that people ask why my brothers and sisters aren’t speaking out. When there’s been a convention meeting since 1998, when, lengthy fatwas have been written against the act, when you look beyond your blood-tinted glasses, when you see that there are so many linkspams dedicated to refuting this, you have no excuse. When our voices try to be heard, we are drowned out by those who think they know better than us, project all their convenient Stereotype of the Week on us, and push us out of a conversation that — rightfully — we should be having. And then complain that we are not assimilating, or keeping our heads down, or concluding that our so-called silence means complicity with the ~jihadis. Well guess what. These extremists? Their Muslim body count is much higher than yours. (Oh wait. We’re not civilised. Sorry, forgot.)
We are sick of being your cultural go-to for convenient targets, especially when innocents are being physically and emotionally scarred because of your xenophobia. And when you have the licence to write in major newspapers and trumpet your lack of pants to the world, you don’t get takebacks.
P.S. Someone tell that Burn a Qu’ran pastor-chap that he might not want to buy too many — or it’ll jump to the top of the bestseller list.