My Weapon, Bahrain

This looks vaguely familiar

This looks vaguely familiar

What’s interesting to me about this image is not so much its historical precursors as the fact that the image, in depicting a human hand, crosses lines of religious law that women in full abayas generally do not cross. It’s transgressive in unexpected ways.

And I like it.


Hippie demonstrates flower power

Hippie demonstrates flower power



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Goats eh?

Know Your Goat, just, you know, not THAT WAY.

Know Your Goat, just, you know, not in THAT WAY

This is a totally, completely, utterly gross story and you will love it. You will curl into the fetal position and cup your hands protectively over your bits, but you will like this story.

It’s a true story. For once. It comes from my mother, who was in charge of medical records at the King Fahd Hospital in Riyadh in the 80’s.

Saudi males who are not married are not supposed to notice they have penises. Seriously, they’re supposed to just pretend it doesn’t exist. So when a Saudi male who was not married was admitted the the hospital where my mother worked and the diagnosis was “ruptured penis” naturally all the typists in medical records were DYING to know how it happened. They were all Westerners and somewhat starved for scandalous sex gossip of this type, or even the sight of a penis, if only in their minds’s eyes.

What made it even more bizarre and in-your-face was, the doctors told him he needed some exercise and so every day he would get out of his room and go for a s…l…o…w… walk up the hallway. Down the hallway. Up the hallway. Down the hallway. With a determined look on his face and his legs bowed as if he were riding a Percheron.

My mother was not a shy woman. She was not what you could ever have called retiring. Or bashful.

So, one day she saw the doctor in charge of that patient in the hallway and walked up to him and said, “Doctor So-and-So, my typists can’t even concentrate to do their jobs, they are so distracted by this. How did it happen?”

He was used to my mother. He knew those western women were crazy and my mother was the craziest of all of them and, thus, not to be trifled with.

He looked up the hall. He looked down the hall. He looked up the hall. He looked down the hall. He leaned in and whispered, “The goat bolted.”

It’s International Draw Mohammed Day!

Mohammed demonstrates REAL radical Islam

Mohammed demonstrates REAL Radical Islam on Draw Mohammed Day

This would make an AWESOME tapestry, dude.

UPDATE: Facebook has taken down the Page of Draw Mohammed Day; apparently the Farmville revenue from Pakistan was worth more than their reputation as a platform for nonviolent groups to communicate. Who knew? (we all did, deep down). I’ll give five juicy Canadian dollars to the first person to do an image of Mark Zuckerberg as the Prophet Mohammed. I mean, it makes sense, right? It explains collusion, right?

Chris Crocker sez leave mohammed alone on Everybody Draw Mohammed Day

Chris Crocker sez leave mohammed alone on Everybody Draw Mohammed Day

UPDATE UPDATED: The WordPress.Com blog is still up, and holds nothing sacred (most particularly not the English language, but you don’t see Shakespeare telling Hamlet to off them, now do ya?

Update UPDATE UPDATED: I grabbed a cached version of the FB page, but it’s gibbled a bit gibbled to the point I had to delete it, sorry.

And here is an archive of images of Mohammed through history, including Islamic images of him. Is it like the Catholics and celibacy? Sometimes it’s in, sometimes the Pope has grandkids?

Yes, today is the day we stand in solidarity with terrified Danish ink addicts everywhere and scrawl out our best portraits of the Prophet Mohammed, a day born of controversy, of conflict, of (apparent) confusion. I mean…

Nihad Awad says “freedom of expression does not create an obligation to offend or to show disrespect to the religious beliefs or revered figures of others.”That is quite literally correct; it is important to note that freedom of expression does not create obligations: it creates freedoms.

Here I am exercising mine at Bunk’s invitation by posting this fine image by AdamCrazyPants (I hope I haven’t just sentenced him to death!) of a modern Mohammed, kickin’ it old skool, laying down the radical Islam. Paging Ali Eteraz

and, last but not least, this. Because it needs to be said as often as possible to those who would interfere with our fundamental freedoms.

there’s irony in those lyrics, if the fascists of one kind or another haven’t killed it off too

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Welcome to New York, Ahmadinejad

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad Totally Looks Like Jake Gyllenhaal
can not be unseen!

The NYC visit of the President of Iran is as good an excuse as we need to re-post this video. View it quick, before Lorne Michael’s little trolls pry it from the internet’s sadly un-tenacious grasp.

IRan So Far

Lyrics via JustJared

They say true love comes only once in a lifetime

And even though we’re from opposite ends of the earth

My heart tells me you’re the one for me

Mahmoud, I remember when it started, saw you on the news

You hating gays, I was eating food

I was feeling you, and even though I disagree with almost everything you said

You ain’t wrong to me, so strong to me, you belong to me

Like a very hairy Jake Gyllenhaal to me

Mahmoud, make my heart beating out of my chest

my mind says no but my body says yes

You ain’t no threat, the only threat I see, is the threat of you not coming home to me

Our love for each other is like when atoms collide

Can’t express how I feel, and yo Adam let’s ride

And Iran, Iran so far away is your home, but in my heart you’ll stay

He ran, for the president of Iran

We ran together to a tropical island

My man, Mahmoud is known for violence

Smiling, if he can still do it then I can

They call you weasel, they say your methods are medieval

You can play the Jews, I can be your Jim Caviezel

S&M, (?) when we’re wrestlin’

You can be the port that I put my vessel in

So I try to (?) but you can still see me

With your sleepy brown eyes, butter pecan thighs

And your hairy butt… Yeah.

And Iran, Iran so far away

Come home, and in my arms you’ll stay

Used to look at the stars and dream

Around the world the same stars we’re seeing

And a twinkle in your eyes Mahmoud

Talk smooth to me, in the night sky

With you pants high waisted, damn so fly

We can take a trip to the animal zoo

And laugh at all the funny things that animals do

Like Eugene, you got me straight trippin’ boo

Hope you look at my eyes and say I’m trippin’ too

You say (?) but they already do

You should know by now, it’s you

You crazy for this world Mahmoud

So give us another Holocaust all you want

But you can’t deny that there’s something between us

I know you say there’s no gays in Iran

But you’re in New York now baby

So time to stop hating and start living

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An Eight-Tentacle Salute to Octopi


This dude can take eight requests at a time, and refill your inkwell!

Perhaps we should set him up with this lovely Muslim octopus:

Just Call Me Habibibibibibibibi

and now, a haiku Twitter octopus joke from Chris Twitery:

knock knock knock knock knock

knock knock knock who’s there? Not that

octopus again

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