Raw HTML code for 3-13-10 blogburst post: Crocodile tears from the parents of Jihad Jamie?

Just copy and paste into your HTML editor. (Alternatively, you can copy the formatted HTML from my Error Theory blog post.)

Crocodile tears from the parents of Jihad Jamie?
Alec Rawls noticed something not quite right about Jihad Jamie's mother and father. Compare these two snippets from their Wall Street Journal interview:

Ms. Paulin-Ramirez's interest in Islam "came out of left field," said her mother, Christine Holcomb-Mott, in an interview at her home Friday, wearing a blue sweatsuit with a silver cross around her neck.

How out of left field?

Mr. Mott, a convert to Islam himself, says he went to Denver to find his stepdaughter but couldn't track her down.

This woman is married to a Muslim, but neither she nor her husband can grok where in the world their murder-plotting daughter/step-daughter ever got exposed to this worrisome religion that subducts so many of its followers into terrorism.

Their disgust at daughter Jamie sounds sincere, but their blatant dishonesty about how she could have gotten interested in Islam suggests otherwise. It is possible, however, that the Journal's paraphrase is not precise. If put on the spot, Holcomb-Mott would likely clarify that she has no idea how her daughter ever got interested in murder-cult Islam.

There is a way that this could actually happen: if Mr. Mott is some kind of multiculturalist do-gooder who converted to Islam in sympathy with the idea that "Islam was hijacked too" on 9/11. Such a person could have converted without comprehending the well established Islamic pedigree of violent aggressive jihad.

Don't scoff. This same "Islam is a victim too" sentiment is right now allowing a giant Mecca oriented crescent to be built on the Flight 93 crash site. After all, it would just be too horrible to reject the Crescent of Embrace memorial simply because it is in the shape of a giant Islamic crescent, not when Islam itself was amongst the victims on that terrible day. No, we must do the opposite and embrace Islam.

If Mott is thinking the same way, he has hardly gone any further than the Memorial Project. But then it seems that his step daughter took one step further still and actually read the Koran, with its endless commands to slaughter the unbelievers. Thus did an unhappy misfit finally find a home for the vicious vindictiveness that the religion of her birth had kept in check.



To join our blogbursts, just send your blog's url.

BURNT BISCUITS

When I was a kid, my mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. And I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work.    On that evening so long ago, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that biscuit and eat every bite! When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits. And I'll never forget what he said: "Honey, I love burned biscuits." Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your Momma put in a hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides - a little burnt biscuit never hurt anyone!" Life is full of imperfect things.....and imperfect people. I'm not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else.  But what I've learned over the years is that learning to accept each others faults - and choosing to celebrate each others differences - is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship. And that's my prayer for you today. That you will learn to take the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of your life and lay them at the feet of God.  Because in the end, He's the only One who will be able to give you a relationship where a burnt biscuit isn't a deal-breaker! We could extend this to any relationship. In fact, understanding is the base of any relationship, be it a husband-wife or parent-child or friendship! "Don't put the key to your happiness in someone else's pocket - keep it in your own." God Bless You.....  Now, and Always.... So Please pass me a biscuit,  and yes, the burnt one will do just fine.!.!.!.!   And PLEASE pass this along to someone who has enriched your life....  I just did!

REFLECTION OF LIFE AT THE WORK PLACE!

Reflection:
Looks like some, people will never be satisfied with what they've got.

When it comes to the work place, Employers do not know how to appreciate their people who have served them loyally through the years. I've seen companies lose good people for the simple fact their leaders failed to show appreciation. Employers with big egos enjoy the fact that they have more power and authority than others. They show, in the way they give orders and directions, that they think they are superior. They get a kick out of displaying this superiority. People who do this are fools, and everyone but them knows it. They are never satisfied because they could not be satisfied even if their people perform well.

They don't listen to the opinion and ideas of their subordinates.

Why? Because of their stupid pride and insecurity.

People of this kind will never be satisfied. Why? Because they are so busy wrapped up in themselves and, fact is, the self can never be satisfied. Happy and productive people are always those who are "others-centered" rather than "self- centered." The greatest idea of leadership is not someone who throws his weight around. Rather, he is a servant. As Bible would say, "He who wish to be a leader should first be a servant."

His joy is derived from delivering a job that others benefit from his contribution. Aim for service and success will follow.

HOW TO CHANGE IN FIVE EASY STEPS!

Chapter 1.
I walk down a street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. It takes forever to get out. It's my fault.

Chapter 2.
I walk down the same street. I fall in the hole again. It still takes a long time to get out. It's not my fault.

Chapter 3.
I walk down the same street. I fall in the hole again. It's becoming a habit. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

Chapter 4.
I walk down the same street and see the deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

Chapter 5.
I walk down a different street.

"JUST FIVE MORE MINUTES"

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground.

“That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.

“He’s a fine looking boy” the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the white dress.”

Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “What do you say we go, Melissa?”

Melissa pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes.”

The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. “Time to go now?”

Again Melissa pleaded, “Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.”

The man smiled and said, “OK.”

“My, you certainly are a patient father,” the woman responded.

The man smiled and then said, “Her older brother Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I’d give anything for just five more minutes with him. I’ve vowed not to make the same mistake with Melissa.

She thinks she has five more minutes to ride her bike. The truth is, I get Five more minutes to watch her play.”

Life is all about making priorities, what are your priorities?
Give someone you love 5 more minutes of your time today!

GOLD AND BLACK BOXES!

I have in my hands two boxes
Which God gave me to hold
He said, "Put all your sorrows in the black,
And all your joys in the gold."

I heeded his words, and in the two boxes
Both my joys and sorrows I store
But though the gold became heavier each day
The black was as light as before.

With curiosity, I opened the black
I wanted to find out why
And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole
Which my sorrows had fallen out by.

I showed the hole to God, and mused aloud,
"I wonder where my sorrows could be."
He smiled a gentle smile at me.
"My child, they're all here with me."

I asked, "God, why give me the boxes,
"Why the gold, and the black with the hole?"
"My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings,
the black is for you to let go."

GRIEVANCES!

GRIEVANCES!