And, we are helpfully told,
the Muslim birthrate is roughly three times higher than the non-Muslim one.Commenter "goodbye_natalie" at LGF has promulgated the following new approved spelling of Britain's new favorite name, combining three simple yet related concepts:
Got the prophet, the pig and the shit all in one name. Excellent...goodbye_natalie elaborates:
Origin and Meaning of MohammudLearn it, Love it, Live it.
boy's name Mohammud mo-ham-mud pronounced MO-Ham-Mud
Variant spelling of Mohammud: Mohammed, Muhammad, Mohammad, Muhammed, Mohamed, Mohamad, Mahammed, Mohammod, Mahamed, Muhammod, Muhamad, Mohmmed, Mohamud
Mo - most commonly prophet of doom but can be associated with cut grass, money, or a bad hair cut;
Ham - pig butt; yummy tasting McDonald's breakfast; clumsy individual; show boat
Mud - common Muslim suffix; shiite (slang;) as in dirt ball; occasionally shit in Arabic
Mo-ham-mud (meaning) - provider of death, foot and mouth disease, and botulism.
What? Am I being mean?
Here is a slice of life from the bandit kingdom where they practice the "holy" instructions of mo-ham-mud:
I stood outside a Riyadh bank, sweating in my black cloak while I waited for a friend. The sidewalk was simmering, but I had nowhere else to go. As a woman, I was forbidden to enter the men’s half of the bank to fetch him. Traffic screamed past on a nearby highway. The winds tugged at the layers of black polyester. My sunglasses began to slip down my glistening nose.Explain to me please how anyone who chooses to follow or celebrate mo-ham-mud isn't a servant of incredible evil?
The door clattered open, and I looked up hopefully. But no, it was a security guard. And he was stomping straight at me, yelling in Arabic. I knew enough vocabulary to glean his message: He didn’t want me standing there. I took off my shades, fixed my blue eyes on him blankly and finally turned away as if puzzled. I think of this as playing possum.
He disappeared again, only to reemerge with another security guard. This man was of indistinct South Asian origin and had an English vocabulary. He looked like a pit bull — short, stocky and teeth flashing as he barked: “Go! Go! You can’t stand here! The men can SEE! The men can SEE!”
I looked down at him and sighed. I was tired. “Where do you want me to go? I have to wait for my friend. He’s inside.” But he was still snarling and flashing those teeth, arms akimbo. He wasn’t interested in discussions.
“Not here. NOT HERE! The men can SEE you!” He flailed one arm toward the bank.
I lost my temper.
“I’m just standing here!” I snapped. “Leave me alone!” This was a slip. I had already learned that if you’re a woman in a sexist country, yelling at a man only makes a crisis worse.
The pit bull advanced toward me, making little shooing motions with his hands, lips curled back. Involuntarily, I stepped back a few paces and found myself in the shrubbery. I guess that, from the bushes, I was hidden from the view of the window, thereby protecting the virtue of all those innocent male bankers. At any rate, it satisfied the pit bull, who climbed back onto the sidewalk and stood guard over me. I glared at him. He showed his teeth. The minutes passed. Finally, my friend reemerged.
A liberal, U.S.-educated professor at King Saud University, he was sure to share my outrage, I thought. Maybe he’d even call up the bank — his friend was the manager — and get the pit bull in trouble. I told him my story, words hot as the pavement.
He hardly blinked. “Yes,” he said. “Oh.” He put the car in reverse, and off we drove.
Choices have consequences.
Not all belief systems are equal.