E Street Fighters
FH2007- E STREET FIGHTERS
By 449 Quentin
Last Spring I took advantage of the balmy weather and walked around Manhattan. I started along Fifth Avenue in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The steps of the museum were filled with crowds of people enjoying the sunshine. Everybody looked polite, decent and very non confrontational. These folks didn’t need peace buttons, pacifism was written all over their faces. There wasn’t a street fighter in the crowd.
Later when I turned left and headed over to Madison Avenue walking by the boutiques and art galleries again I was surrounded by the gentlest of folk. Not only was it a given that none of my fellow strollers was packing a concealed weapon, it was indeed a surety that they had never seen a gun outside of the big screen at the local multiplex. Later when I hopped in a cab and headed for Soho the streets were also packed and there wasn'’t a single sign being carried vowing that the citizen was willing to die for Christianity. Vainly did I scan the hordes looking for anyone who would be willing to fall on a hand grenade to pull western culture out of the fire pit it was falling into.
Every bus that passed by was intact. Not one was a twisted blackened hulk loaded with newly minted corpses to proclaim the sanctity of The Chase Manhattan Bank. No group was rampaging through the crowd waving daggers and screaming, “speak English or die”. Mothers were shepherding their toddlers through the hordes and not one was strapping a bomb belt on the tyke. No jack booted thugs were marching down the avenues proclaiming “America Uber Alles, god gave us Coca Cola and Arid Extra Dry”.
Later when I crossed over into Brooklyn I passed school after school that was not taken over and their children held hostage to protest that the “Fed” had again raised the prime by a quarter of a point. During my tour I had missed the Foreign embassies all over Manhattan but somehow knew none had been mortared or taken over by hostile crowds. No diplomats would appear on the evening news cuffed and hooded and led around by teenagers pointing pistols at their heads. No foreign flags were burning or foreign tears flowing. Out in the harbor any foreign Navel vessels were probably not smoldering while their sailors lay burned and bleeding. Out at J.F.K. International airport plane after plane filled with Americans landed safely without one of our citizens detonating himself along with the plane to protest the inroads Islam was making on our shores.
Oh sure somewhere out there from sea to shining sea we had thugs of our own and street fighters too. But not along the road I traveled that spring day. Besides those Neanderthals held no power in America. They lived in places like Nebraska, wherever that was.
They didn’t own any newspaper or television stations. Guys like Pinch Sulzberger who got to own The New York Times along with his first drivers license were the ruling elites. They called the tune and their acolytes walked along museum row in Manhattan enjoying the tranquility of a balmy spring day.
A minor point missed by the museum and boutique crowd is that everything has a cost. Everything has to be earned and paid for and even a swell spring day to run amok in Manhattan with your Visa card has a price. It must be defended and protected by someone. Even when George Bush and Dick Cheney are marched off in handcuffs by Barbara Boxer and Nancy Pelosi someone will have to walk the wall and man the perimeter.
Contrast all of the above with the boys on the other side of the wall. When little Abdul is blowing out the candles on his fourth birthday cake dad hands him a real Kalashnikov Rifle and explains the inner workings of a hand grenade. After the party our boy is shipped off to a madras so that he can learn how to kill infidels. In addition if none of the non believers is available he can always blow up a Shiite mosque if he happens to be a Sunni. You see these guys are not just street fighters they have attitude.
Recently two factions of Hamas were going at it in the Gaza Strip, which despite what liberals will tell you is not at all like Westchester. One of the guys wanted to settle a score with the leader of the other faction but alas he couldn't‘t find him. Not to worry, our boy was a multi tasker able to improvise on the fly. He found the three young sons of his adversary. The lads were three, six and eight if memory serves me. But don’t trust my aging cerebrum look it up in Pinch’s Times where it was buried on page seven hundred while Israeli soldiers adorned the front page hassling Palestinian women at a border crossing.
Regardless of their ages suffice to say they were surrounded and shot to death. Which is barbaric but somewhat quicker in the ways to die category than say the two Israeli reservists who made a wrong turn about ten years ago on the West Bank. They did not die as quickly. They were dragged by a crowd to a local police station and butchered like cattle with knives before being hurled out the window to the pavement below. We could turn our attention to the three hundred Christians in Africa who were burned and hacked to death in a church this month by a Muslim Mob. After that we could visit Dafur where the liberals want us to do a mini Iraq. Is the shoe of pacifism on the other foot? Just who do they think is doing all the rape, murder and pillaging there, the Methodists?
Hardly. That same mob is emblematic of the Muslim Street, that nebulous threat that burns American flags from Algeria to Pakistan. They do it on television for all the world to see including men who are floating on aircraft carriers just off their shores. Men who could fly over that very street in mere minutes and blow it and its army of thugs into oblivion. Men on ships that our tax dollars pay for. Men who are forbidden to obliterate our enemies by a craven Congress that has the distinction of being the only thing in the Solar System with a lower approval rating in the polls than George Bush.
Now these two very different streets are racing towards each other on waves that began over a thousand years ago. It will be Fifth Avenue in collision with the Arab Street. Pacifists versus Thugs. Those that sip pomegranate juice against those who drink blood. History has shown that when such forces meet one must leave it’s stage.
Who would you bet on?
