The people are high on opium - III

My uncle is another example

I explore further my Muslim heritage. As you will recall, I paid tribute to the religious pragmatism and tolerance of my paternal grandfather. My uncle, who is my father’s kid brother, also took up Islam.

My memories of him are quite fond, I even remember when he celebrated his 22nd birthday asking if he would wait for me to catch up; I was just coming to 8 then.

I have not in anyway matched the fondness, love and dedication between siblings that my father has with my uncle, they may not worship each other but they are certainly close and do really look out for each other.

My uncle also took after his father in marrying a very beautiful lady with a strong Christian background. In their case, the children both had Muslim and Christian names, however, only the first son; now of blessed memory took up Islam.

Exceedingly worthy of emulation

My uncle in his demeanour is probably the friendliest, approachable and considerate Muslim gentleman I have ever met. He defers, respects, acquiesces and concurs with disarming humility that conveys strength where nominally one would expect weakness.

Selflessness in consideration for others dictates how he sues for conciliation and peace in soft-spoken tones that appeal to reason and common-sense. It makes him an unwilling mentor and more so, a person exceedingly worthy of emulation.

This man lives out the qualities and essence of being a Muslim; in whom one would find no bitterness or rancour; a person who exercises self-control and comportment in all circumstances.

The sacrifice – faith and belief - personified

On the maternal line, I also had cousins who with a strong Muslim heritage through their paternal grandparents. In that setting, I participated more in the Muslim festivals which during my secondary school days fell during term time.

The main festival involved the slaughter and preparation of the sacrificial ram which re-enacts the sacrifice that Abrahamic sacrifice of his son, Isaac; at least the context is that Abraham was willing to sacrifice his son in the service of God.

God’s acknowledged that selflessness by providing a ram to replace Isaac on the sacrificial altar. The same selflessness in service to God is required of followers of Mohammed’s doctrine.

However, that should also be viewed in the light of Abraham’s complete personality and conduct which allowed him to belief first and then exercise faith in God being able to revive back his son; if the sacrifice did take place.

Blades for rough hairs

All of us got involved the preparations; after the Imam from the mosque cut the throat of the ram, we had to shave the ram before the butchering of the flesh.

This involved making a tourniquet round the neck and then from a slit in the back legs, after clearing pathways with a stick, the carcase was filled and bloated with air like a balloon.

This made the skin taunt allowing for soap to be applied for shaving the rough hairs, by holding the blades with fingers as the shaving stick.

I think, I was quite a dap hand at the job; it was an activity I relished.

The silent majority of reason

The Muslims I knew then, at home and at school, would hardly have been part of the fracas that occupies our streets around the globe.

It is however, unfortunate that they constitute the silent majority of reasonable and likeable Muslims. Their religious diet definitely does not consist of opium.

The martyrdom of the cartoon

The martyrdom of the veal

Just about 11 years ago, passions were running high about the transportation of animal for the production of veal, however, as an omnivore with a carni-philia (sic – love of meat) palate, I could see the need to protest. [1]

Animals do need to be kept in healthy and considerate environments that cause them no undue distress, but I shy from the word humane; that is reserved for humans.

On principle, I do not eat veal because I feel that the flesh of meat should attain a quality of maturity or aging before slaughter, just as one would not eat unripe fruits.

As it transpired, this whole frenzy lead to the death of one of the activists; a martyr for the welfare of veal calves – the incredulity still amazes me.

In other respects, this person gave more consideration to animals than to the effect it would have on humans regardless of the cause, I am of the strong opinion that the only cause worth dying for is ascendancy of mankind and that has long been done by someone else – thankfully!

However, people do choose their causes and some do sacrifice themselves to the cause; good for them, I would rather see the cause through to fulfilment and the consequent celebration.

The martyrdom of the cartoon

So today the propensity for unbridled passion continues unabated as the anger towards the Mohammed cartoons fuel protest, dissent, aggression and disorder.

Within that disorder, lives have now been lost as community and religious leaders fail to quell the hot-headed mob with a call to reason.

One wonders how it took a good four months for the cartoons drawn in an inconsequential European backwater to become global news.

The questions come flooding out, but the loudest ones would be …

+                                How does this anger help win converts to Islam?

+                                How can reasonable discourse between civilisations be fostered with one side resorts to inordinate violence that challenges common civility?

After all the boycotts, burning, rampages and name-calling, all parties would be losers and the animosity between different peoples would foster greater intolerance.

The pain of consciousness

I note with poignancy that a usually firebrand state is not participating in this activity. Just as some governments need to be seen to be reacting negatively to this cartoon saga.

Opium can stupefy as the drug of religion fills the cravings for a paradise in some probable future, however, the slap of unfortunate tragedy in Egypt has left people pre-occupied with seeking information about their loved ones than burning flags of unloved ones.

Contextually, it shows that a reality check that grounds people to consider more pressing and dire circumstances removes them from the opportunity to foment trouble and discord. Sad as it may seem, it probably is a welcome distraction if the voice of reason will not prevail.

It is a Viagra death

The other angle on this martyrdom issue stems from the activities of suicide bombers who do so, on the promise that their martyrdom would be rewarded with 72 virgins as they arrive in heaven. [2][3][4]

I pause to refresh my understanding of what a martyr is –

1 : a person who voluntarily suffers death as the penalty of witnessing to and refusing to renounce a religion

2 : a person who sacrifices something of great value and especially life itself for the sake of principle [5]

Methinks a whole lot of young men have been duped by unscrupulous manipulators of the good words of the Al Quran.

It is very doubtful that suicide bombing is covered in the first definition because it pertains to suffering death inflicted by others; the second pertains to dying for a cause and I can confidently say it cannot be by taking the life of others.

Another good book views suicide as an abomination, but I would not develop that any further.

The only attraction of 72 virgins is wanton sex of lascivious magnitude that it would make a prostitute blush – to arrest and entice the virility of an adolescent or sex-crazed but deprived male in the quest of a suicide mission leaves me lost for appropriate words of disdain.

The benefactors seemingly do not want to avail themselves of those virgins having tasted the forbidden fruit on earth and probably now tire of the demands they have to meet with their tiny harem of just four wives.

If all I had to wish for was 72 virgins; I seek a better heaven than one that could as well be a brothel of squealing sexual ecstasy.

The reason of lesser men

One can really kick up the fuss about the cartoons, we can also temper our anger with a better goal of trying to win over the infidels with the example of patience, mercy and discourse.

But we would not be moved by flimsy cartoons that are hardly representative of the faith, the people and the principles we revere and honour.

If they knew better, none of this would happen, however, we would seize this opportunity to educate, enlighten and proselytise Europe with the message of peace.

Who is speaking up for peace because great men and messengers of God would definitely be doing what is right?

References

[1] Activists Rally Around 10th Anniversary of Death of Jill Phipps

[2] Grapes? Virgins? Does That Explain Suicide Bombers? A commentary

[3] FactsOfIsrael.com: 72 Questions about the 72 virgins Some comments could be rather offensive – approach with care.

[4] Telegraph | News | 'My dream was to be a suicide bomber. I wanted to kill 20, 50 Jews. Yes, even babies'

[5] Definition of martyr - Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary

Hitler on a spit-roast

Dastardly comparisons

In trying to keep ahead of issues, events and people I regularly check my news on three sites – BBC News, TheWorld News site – a news aggregator that takes topics from local media in a global context and Expatica – a news site in English for Expatriates in the Netherlands, Belgium, Germany and Spain.

However, in the space of just a few days, the name of Adolf Hitler has been invoked in comparisons by Donald Rumsfeld, Hugo Chavez and Angela Merkel.

It brings to mind the saying about turning in one’s grave, which indicates that a person now dead would have been utterly displeased if the event had happened in that person’s lifetime.

By inference, Adolf Hitler having turned thrice might as well be in a spin on a spit-roast {You can read more into this as to burning and fire}.

The rise of Chavez

Mr Rumsfeld speaking from an Unknown, Unknowns perspective raises hackles about the elections in Latin America that have favoured people who would appear to be hostile to the American hegemony.

As far as Latin America is concerned, America has not been able to transfer the quality of their economic progress beyond their borders; Mexico and Cuba are case in point.

The history of American intervention in Latin America is long, varied and unsavoury. We have the good fortune of the world being a bit more civilised than the 1970s or we would have had a Chilean putsch deposing Hugo Chavez for some puppet to America’s liking.

For a country that just over 200 years ago fought imperialism, their imperialist credentials rival those of other empires and are ever so recent.

The people’s leader

In a nutshell, Hugo Chavez was elected the President of Venezuela by popular consent having once served a term in jail for plotting an unsuccessful coup.

Whilst he many not be to anyone’s liking, I can contend that this is the first developing world leader who is ploughing profits of oil back into the country to help his people, regardless of how populist his ideas and tirades are.

His liaison with Fidel Castro stems from the fact that just being 90 miles south of America, the overwhelming force of sanctions and blockades still has Cuba as a country able to evacuate its people out of the way of disaster in time and efficiently, they also have probably the best medical services in the world.

Probably, the question Hugo always asks Fidel is “How can I keep America out of my backyard?” Well, the evidence is America is miffed that they cannot influence events in Latin America just as they once did.

Good on you Hugo.

Hitler is a baby

I have sometimes wondered about the even-handedness of the United States in world affairs. It is sometimes difficult to find instances where America has not acted in complete self-interest regardless of the platitudes that eventually emerged to just the ends.

The raid on Afghanistan did free the people of Afghanistan but it was really to go after Al Qaeda and the Taliban.

The all-encompassing mirage of nuclear annihilation wrought by Saddam Hussein’s weapons of mass destruction formed the basis of war in Iraq to inadvertently secure oil which does not seem to flow as much as when he was in power.

We have a similitude of democracy but it would not be in the flavour that America likes, just as they learnt of the Palestinians.

America has form, creating fear

However, Hugo’s diatribe links so many American activities as the failed coup to overthrow him that American seemed to acquiesce, the continued animosity between both countries and the veiled threats that come from senior officials of the government.

Just as countries of Europe feared the invasion of the Hitler armies, it is probably plausible that some governments in Latin America might fear the invasion of Bush armies.

This however, might not happen because the US forces are a bit pre-occupied with sorting out the Iraqi quagmire.

Hugo, that comparison is a bit far fetched, Bush has only polarised his people he is far from hypnotising them.

The Nile (denial) of the Holocaust

Dr Ahmadinejad has been quite instructive in a number of pronouncements as he has poured scorn on the half-baked solution that created Israel at the expense of Palestine.

We are still nowhere near a solution to that problem, as Europe helped the Jews reclaim the land of their fathers; they left the cousins of the Jews bereft of land which is also of their fathers.

As history would have it, the land belongs to the children of Abraham, to the line of Isaac and Jacob (Israel) by promise but then the other significant children as Ismael – purported to be the scion of Muslims of Arabia – and Esau who gave up his birth-right for a pot of porridge, hence losing the right to sire the promised nation.

The victorious powers after World War II assuaged their guilt by helping create the nation of Israel, but left it in perpetual turmoil by displacing others and not setting in clarity the status of Jerusalem and Palestine.

An Israel in Europe

Dr Ahmadinejad takes-off from this perspective as he berates Europe for having created a problem and solution in the Middle-East and lays bear in more graphic detail the injustice that represents itself as the new world order.

One can then see why he has adopted an all-or-nothing perspective which is Israel cannot exist at the expense of Palestine, the prevailing circumstances give no encouragement toward a ready solution.

In that light, it might sound plausible that the nation of Israel as a people which was so decimated by the Hitler should exist somewhere else in the West, as a recompense for the Hitler atrocities and the European indifference at the time.

However, Israel does need to exist in the Middle-East, if Dr Ahmadinejad’s comments force Europe and American to resolve the Israeli-Palestinian crises with more impetus, it would have been a thing done right.

Defence of the realm

Finally, when you are surrounded by your sworn enemies in Iraq and Afghanistan, the defence of the realm becomes the paramount objective, even if it includes nuclear weapons, and as long as those prime powers think they are more deserving of nuclear exploitation than you are, well, the debate would continue.

Another oil crisis looms probably with Angela’s help.

The people are high on opium - I

I have a Muslim heritage

My interaction with Muslims is a lot deeper than appears in my commentary. I never knew my maternal grandfather; he passed on over 4 years before I was born.

My paternal grandparents however, I did know well, I even once had a great-grandmother in that scion and whilst many thought she was old and near death, she went on and on after falls and sicknesses bouncing back stronger that by the time she died she had long lost all her contemporaries.

Many wondered how we just got on so well, as we chatted about everything imaginable for hours on end. They have all since departed, but the memories of their lives abide.

It appears only my maternal grandfather was literate, he kept journals of all sorts of stuff that I have not had the time to examine.

In my early years, we met up with cousins in the long holidays by visits to my ancestral village which had my mother’s people as indigenes and my father’s people as settlers.

No more village people

My father’s enthusiasm for those village visits and patriarchal patronage did not however become the passion of first my mother, then my siblings and ultimately myself.

We are driven to distraction about it, that it made us completely averse to anything to do with that village – a reconciliation of views seems a little bit far off for now.

Whilst my other grandparents were not literate; they were smart, knowledgeable and interesting.

They traded farm produce and ready-prepared labour-intensive foods at the weekly market which was every 5 days, when traders from far off came round with their produce to indulge a microcosm of globalisation – trade still matters for the emancipation of village and country alike.

Muslim marries Christian

My grandfather was a Muslim, he was married to a Christian, they had six children, without duress or prompting; half turned out Christian and the other Muslim.

In a time when women’s rights was completely unheard of; my grandmother was able to go to church without hindrance, whilst my grandfather went to the mosque.

Their children celebrated both religious festivals without prejudice and neither were they ostracised for being who they were.

My father, for instance was the first born; in a setting that meant you carried on the mantle, he is Christian, his only brother, however, is a Muslim.

Pragmatism worthy of emulation

The pragmatism of my grandfather even goes further; they all realised that education was essential and ploughed all their resources into my father’s education – my great-grandmother being the person who did the most to get him through the early schooldays with the help of her brother who was a school teacher.

He became a qualified and certified accountant, a trail-blazer amongst his contemporaries and those after; we ended up with just fewer than 10 certified accountants from our village.

My father was allowed to select a surname that had no religious connotations and when I was born, my grandfather offered a name that had no religious leanings even though it was his prerogative to offer a purely Muslim name.

I see in my grandparents an understanding of religion; tolerance of other faiths; a willingness to accommodate and live in peace; an example worthy of following.

Instruction for others

This quality of religious pragmatism unfortunately did not extend down to my parents in dealing with their affairs and children. It is probably the most divisive element of our relationships; it has caused ructions to the extent that reason cannot gain prominence over entrenched beliefs – this especially from quite well-educated people.

Sometimes, I wonder if this schism with my parents also affects my ability to foster a strong God-son relationship the context that views God as father – Christianity.

My grandparents were not under the influence of opium, driven by dogma, instructed by unscrupulous religious leaders or educated beyond the capability of instructive reason, they were people who worshipped God and were considerate of other people.

My grandfather was a model Muslim; I doff my hat to him.

Remo Secondary School (RSS) at 60

Early through school

Time passes as the 4th of February marks the 60th anniversary of Remo Secondary School in Sagamu, Ogun State, Nigeria.

I had the interesting advantage of doing a lot of things early, such that I was a year below the class average age in primary school and almost 2 years below that average in Secondary School.

My immediate sister even finished secondary school at an earlier age; she was only under 15, whilst I finish in 1981 at just 15 and a half.

We were up North in Kaduna when my parents agonised about where I should have my secondary education.

There were lots of options in the North and a very close friend of my mother really wanted me to school nearby, but there was a feeling that I needed to learn more of our traditional Yoruba background and hence, the South West offered the best opportunity.

More so, I was not that fluent in Yoruba, and with the entire commendable grasp I now have in Yoruba, I find that I speak Yoruba to almost everyone except my parents with whom I mainly converse in English.

Selection selects the worthy

Sometimes I wonder about the debate about admission selection that dominates the political debate in the UK when it comes to education.

For six months, I was in home school in Lagos with a relative who ensured I had what was necessary to do well. In one instance, as we were on our way to one of those entrance examinations we had an accident as our old banger ran into a rather expensive car.

That gave my guardian the impetus to acquire a new car which with the help of my father happened to be a Peugeot model 504 that was the car of the middle classes in the mid 1970s.

I attended a number of entrance examinations and in the end had a number of choices, but realised that whilst we did Arithmetic in the North, they did Mathematics in the South; the concept of negative numbers was alien to me, but I survived with a few lessons from an aunt.

Spooked in decisions

Odogbolu Grammer School was the nearest to my ancestral village Ijesha-Ijebu, but declined the offer when I noticed that the school literally shared its grounds with a graveyard.

I have seen a few ghosts; the experience was terrifying though the phenomenon sometimes begs for lucidity in explanation.

Mayflower School in Ikenne was considered the cream of the crop, but I was not successful in achieving the grade, so the next choice was Remo Secondary School.

As it happens it was the very first co-educational school in Nigeria, previous attempts at that model had foundered that no one expected it to work.

However, on the fourth day of February 1946, it opened its doors to new students, and I was in the class of 1976.

Admissions selection ensured we had a mixed bunch of students from all works of life and experiences, which was both wholesome and healthy.

Privilege of a good start

I was indeed a child of privilege, many who travelled from the North did so by train, which could be a very unhealthy exercise and probably unsafe for young ones too.

I flew in, was chauffeured around and kept well supplied with provision and necessities. I definitely did not lack for anything; my parents did almost too well in ensuring comfort in a wild place.

Certain events of terrifying nights which had me reading Psalm 23 aloud for hours on end lead to my being called Holy Ghost by some but more popularly Pastor.

One had to deal with the shame of bed-wetting on the one hand and just the desperation to carry on and out live that foible.

A hard life out there

The first two friends I made were just I was, born abroad with quite a bit of the tenderness that indicated we were not used to the hardships of boarding school, it probably made us ready targets for bullying, but we did have our wits about us.

You have to be wily and smart to survive in a setting where abuse could be meted out with importunity and some seniors did get their kicks out of that.

Part of the orientation included the selection into school houses; I was in Adedoyin house which came last for my  first three yearly inter-house games, the other houses were Falode, Mellor and Igimisoje all of which were names of founders or pioneers of the school.

Reverend Mellor who was a Methodist minister died in his eighties just at the end of 1976.

An academy for life

I did well in most subjects except Yoruba which was a compulsory subject until after the third year.

In the fourth year, my scores in the sciences were poor such that I had to do arty subjects like history and literature, but after the first term, it just was not my vocation and immediately, I switched to the full sciences and did quite well there.

Between the fourth and final year, we had summer school which was to help us prepare towards the West African Examinations Certificate, and in one of the most unfortunate cases of co-educational co-existences, some of my colleagues went on the rampage and attacked the girl’s hostel which left quite a few with injuries and material damage.

Judgement was swift, pervasive and indiscriminate; the summer school closed, we were sent home and not allowed to board in the fifth year.

A last year of lasting injustice

The fifth year is the most crucial year in any secondary school student’s life, the experience definitely marked everyone, especially those of us who had nothing to do with that fracas.

The board of governors then in their “all-knowing” and parochial manner did not even seek evidence from anyone, but it was also evident that the vice-principal then knew that many of us were not involved and would not get justice.

I barely did as well as I was able in my finals, however, it was enough to move on, I somehow still hold it against the school with regards to the way we were treated.

My last year was also quite interesting because then, the selection process had been abolished for just moving all the pupils from local primary schools to neighbourhood secondary schools.

Only once did I hear any of those new intakes complete a sentence in English flawlessly, it made me weep.

Schoolboys and pranks

I was quite adventurous, we went swimming in a quite notorious river at which we saw a medicine woman walk on water that much we observed as we could have broken the 100m dash record – heels touching heads – back to school, we could hardly tell the tale.

The worst times were the “mass attack” events which really meant the cutting of grass around the school which was just etched out of a forest, I never completed my allocation, sometimes, I got a good friend to help out, if he was not being feted by the girls.

We read so much pulp written by James Hadley Chase even made statements out of the book titles such as “You’re safer dead” and “The dead stay dumb”.

This in fact got other guys into trouble when they were suspected of being members of the Bucknor and Bucknor Chambers of Inquiry, I being Philip and my co-conspirator being Larry.

Well, we made our mark, in one instance; I posted a letter to the authorities about activities that involved us being forced to contribute money for voodoo amulets which would help us win the inter-school football competition.

Unfortunately, we were always second-best to Mayflower School, no matter how hard we tried.

Looking to celebrate at 70

As memories are recalled about those days, it is a shame that I did not make enduring friends of the boys I met at school; I suppose my strict upbringing forced my focus to educational pursuits to the exclusion of other adolescent pleasures.

As the school does wax older and more mature, I hope to be able to visit for the 70th anniversary, as the injustice meted out 26 years ago mingles with the joy of seeing all those whose lives were moulded as they passed through the school and the school passed through them.

RSS – Happy Birthday!!!

Reasoning without cartoons

Is it me you are painting?

In this day and age, a likeness indicates a quality of similarity from which a difference from the original cannot be found.

There have been instances where a pictorial representation of a criminal can drawn by a police artist though based on the evidence of an eye witness.

Except by some inspiration, it is unlikely that an artist would be able to produce the portrait of any particular semblance to anyone the artist has not encountered by reason of some sensual stimulation.

Again, if any did produce a piece of work it is within the prerogative of that artist to give it whatever name to express the content, intent and concept.

Art is what you make it

The appreciation of art is however a personal understanding of the subject or object being observed; the enlightenment that ensues could be influenced by interpretation that one may or may not subscribe to.

If anyone, having scribbled carelessly or with determined genius with a pen or brush presents a portrait of yours truly, it is still left to me to validate that piece of art as my likeness.

If I do not acquiesce to the artist’s fantasy of having described in art, my likeness, no expert can convince me otherwise even though more people see me than I see myself in a mirror.

Probably nothing like the real article

“Nothing like the likeness of Him” and “No man has seen His face” are from the Mohammedan and Judeo-Christian books of religious instruction – these should put paid to any artist who assumes the idea of depicting God in pictures.

After God, we probably can assume that no contemporary man can depict in accuracy the visage of either Jesus Christ or Mohammed.

If we are conscious of that fact, then reason should suggest that any attempted work of depiction can as well be classed as charlatans striving at what they know not; and hence be ignored.

Reasonable doubt is enough doubt

Just as one would reject any depiction that does not suit our recollection of facts or details, a depiction that has no clear basis in fact should of course be dismissed.

Why then are cartoons which have no basis in fact, no proof of likeness, no authentication by the subjects or consideration for reverence the topic of rancorous commentary?

It is high time that our quest for greater faith in God allowed humanist doubt to dislodge the misrepresentation of innocuous scripture which excites many into becoming rather feeble-minded.

Let reason prevail

For those who have whipped up the frenzy that encompasses this saga, it is a unfortunate that men could be herded like cattle into a cause that would normally have had the reasonable well involved in more profitable things.

References

BBC NEWS | World | Middle East | Q&A: Depicting the Prophet Muhammad:

Thinking Cap – Seeing God

In search of a humorous God

Messengers are not the message

The religious fervour that feeds activism leading to disorder as emotions becloud reason brings great concern.

It transpires that the adherents of Mohammedanism have taken serious exception to a number of cartoons depicting the pioneer of their following in sometimes unpalatable poses.

It makes one wonder though about the message, the messenger and who it is all about. When the messenger becomes the message and story, there is need for a reassessment of priorities.

Authority of the messenger

With Christianity, the message comes through a messenger that is part of the fulfilment of the message itself. The claim that Jesus Christ makes as first the Son of God and then a first son of God gives him that authority.

Comparatively, no other messenger lays such a claim, hence, they probably should be less vilified by the machinations of men and seek less validation since the message itself comes from some higher authority – as it were.

Basically, a son delivers a message in the name of the father whilst an adopted but honoured servant delivers the message as a representative of the master.

In both cases, if the messengers do then encounter difficulty, they are either empowered to act on authority of the father/master or the father/master takes the slight and makes adequate redress for the son/servant.

Let the master defend his integrity

It brings to memory a story in the Great Book where someone had desecrated the altar of a god and all the adherents of that god came out in arms to take the life of the desecrator.

Some elders intervened and said, if the said god were so incensed about the desecration then the god should act; however, it might appear the god was merciful because the desecrator lived. [1]

Jihads and crusades which in principle are well-meaning have done much to excite plunder, destruction and misery such that the good news is lost in the suffering that then portrays the message as that of sorrow.

Religious activism wins no converts

In many of my blogs I have strongly suggested that religious activism is a lightning rod for social ills, it does coalesce adherents but does nothing to help in proselytising.

The best message any religion can give is the power of example from the adherents; examples that make people ask questions about your happiness, your amazing success, your overwhelming peace of mind, your enduring patience and manifold wisdom.

Brawling, flag-burning, singing, boycotting and shouting insults at pickets and rallies are for all other kinds of endeavour but definitely not religion.

The matter is simple; if you want people to believe as strongly as you do;

·         show us the example that makes you a disciplined and reasonable family person even if your family consists of just one person

·         show us consideration, courtesy and comportment in all your undertakings

·         show us you are a respected and valued member of your community as an externalisation of your beliefs

·         show us, you practise what you preach

In search of a humorous God

As for the cartoons, let the messengers and the message they preached speak up to the shame of the irreverent cartoonists.

Showing up in anger and rage would do nothing to win the argument, rather, others like the press and haters of your religion would use your raw emotion very well against you, your message, the messenger and the father/master.

For once, let us see the lighter side of the insults and humour the ignorant into realising that our adherence is of sterner stuff than their cartoons can enrage a mouse.

References

[1] Let the gods fight their battles

BBC NEWS | Europe | Muslim anger at Danish cartoons

BBC NEWS | Europe | France enters Muslim cartoon row