Thursday, April 30, 2009

A pearl beyond price

That is, an actual, bona-fide, THINKING Saudi Arabian.

Imagine: Actually giving credit to Western Civilization for most (if not all) of the comforts we enjoy today. To the expense of narrow-minded Islamist thought.

IN SAUDI ARABIA. The cradle of narrow-minded Islamist thought.

Please, God: Don't let him be killed. Let his ideas be fruitful, and multiply.

(via Covenant Zone)

5 comments:

Dag said...

You have a line above the comments box here as I type that reads: "what do you think?"

Well, what I think is that we should get together and come up with a blog named: "Shooting idiot anonymous commentators."

Always look forward to you stopping by. If ever you're short of fools slagging you, I've got a ton of comments directed at me that I'm more than happy to share with you. Unfortunately, read one, you've read 'em all.

Eowyn said...

Ha ha!

Dag, you'll perhaps never know how well you've helped me feel :)

"Shooting idiot anonymous commentators."

Hahahahaha!

*Getting control of self*

Yes.

*a ~kiss~ thrown your way~

Dag said...

What else do I think, now that you've asked?

Well, I think I love the rolling forested hills of Pennsylvania and the piebald farmscapes in full bloom and the tufted sandy shores and the smell of the air in the autumn when the harvest is in. I think I love the look of old brick-faced fine mansions with stone porte cocheres and shuttered windows and dormer roofs and English sunrise windows.

Yeah, like my childhood memories of living a the trailer court in Idaho. But better. Way better.

Good.

Pennsylvania is lovely. That's what I think.

Eowyn said...

Pennsylvania is the land of promise for short-sighted and narrow-thinking Eastern Europeans.

Not that they ought not to have happiness. But, well, let's face it, they're not optimized for upward spiritual growth.

Still, they're us. And so I give them a break.

Dag said...

Less Penn, more sylvan?

I don't know the west of Pennsylvania at all, but the coast and the farms of the east are lovely. If the state had the Rockies and the Big Sky, the forests and the openness, then it'd be pretty nice.

There's a novel I haven't read and a movie I saw a few minutes of on tv, Red October, in which a Russian sailor wants to move to Montana to be a cowboy. Good move. It's the right place for Dostoyevskis and Herzens and Pushkins and those spirits who need a lot of space to be. Like Russia without the devastated culture and the brutal history and the Cossack memories of the Steppes.