Letter To Islam

I received a letter through a chain mail and I thought it worthy enough to share with you. I do not know the person or even the name of the person who wrote it, but it’s someone writing to a family member in Iraq.

“Are we fighting a war on terror or aren’t we? Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on September 11. 2001?

Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan, across the Potomac from our nation’s capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania?

Did nearly three thousand men, woman and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn’t they?

All that and I’m suppose to care that a copy of the Koran was “desecrated” when an overworked American kicked it or it got wet?

Well, I don’t. I don’t care at all.

I’ll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.

I’ll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi Arabia.

I’ll care when Abu Musab al-Zarqawi tells the world he is sorry for hacking off Nick Berg’s head while Berg screamed thought his gurgling slashed throat.

I’ll care when the so-called “insurgents” in Iraq come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques.

I’ll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within the range of their suicide bombs.

I’ll care when the American media stops pretending that their First Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution’s Bill of Rights.

In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this: I don’t care.

When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliated in what amounts to a college-hazing incident, be rest assured that I don’t care.

When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the when he is told no to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank that I don’t care.

When I hear that prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed “special” food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being “mishandled”, you can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts that I don’t care.

“If we ever forget that we’re One Nation Under God, then we will be a nation gone under.” – Ronald Reagan.




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