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A Message from Costa Rica to the Sons of Al-Qaeda

Crazy from the Heat by Matt Cassedayby Matt Casseday

On the other side of the globe suicide bombers are blowing themselves up more than ever, and although it may sound politically incorrect, even appalling, I must admit I typically feel a bit of sympathy for these desperate young men. I can not imagine what it must be like growing up in that part of the world, living an existence so cloistered, so bleak, so futureless, that the notion of blowing ones self up to kill other people because you have been promised 72 virgins in the afterlife seems a good option. Any time I read or hear about yet another of these acts of terror committed by relatively innocent kids, I consider what, in a perfect world, could be done to dissuade them.

If I could travel safely to that region, and somehow gather every prospective suicide bomber for a talk, I have a presentation in mind that would go along the following lines: “Greetings muchachos. Allah akbar. To all of you I first must ask, why do you consider the idea of 72 virgins to be enticing? I mean, really—OH MY GAWWDDD!—do you have any idea what you would be getting into?  Seventy-two virgins? That sounds more like a prescription for afterlife insanity. Wouldn’t say, three or four really experienced women bring more eternal fun? I know, I know, you have been taught that these women are somehow unclean, damaged goods. But I can’t help but observe that the teacher delivering this message of uncleanliness is so often some demented-looking guy with a ratty, hummus-encrusted beard hanging down to his musty crotch.  Please, put those Korans aside for a moment, banish the thought of self-flagellation from your minds and stop worrying so much about the afterlife. Instead, ask yourselves why you want to continue propagating a lifestyle that seems to have been heavily influenced by Spanky and Alfalfa’s He-Man Women Haters Club. No offense, but I think one of the problems you guys have is the absolute denial of the natural attraction between the sexes. Instead of embracing it, you blame the poor females in your culture for stirring up feelings of excitement. You make them cover themselves up as much as possible.”

Here is where Costa Rica comes into the picture; it would be my ace in the hole to change the perception of these young men. Because Costa Rica is the antidote for the repression inherent in the Islamic world. I would point out to all the young potential human bombs the following: “I understand the frustration you feel. You live in a place where the norms dictate that your women go about as covered up as possible in public. You consider that normal. But wouldn’t you really much rather be in a place like Costa Rica where the young women uncover themselves in public as much as is legally allowed? Of course you would. The acceptance of this perfectly natural male desire to see the female form liberated would likewise be the first step in your liberation.”

Admittedly, my task would not be an easy one. The following is a true excerpt from an article about beauty pageants in the Middle East:

There are few (beauty pageants) in the largely conservative Arab world. The most dazzling is in Lebanon, the region’s most liberal country, where contestants appear on TV in one-piece swimsuits and glamorous evening gowns and answer questions that test their confidence and general knowledge. There are no such displays in ultra-strict Saudi Arabia, where until Miss Beautiful Morals was inaugurated last year, the only pageants were for goats, sheep, camels and other animals, aimed at encouraging livestock breeding.

I can not imagine, do not even want to think about what life must be like where a young man is chastised for thinking about young women……and must be satisfied with instead admiring the fine form and graceful lines of ….livestock. (Joke: A man survives a shipwreck and finds himself on an island inhabited only by other men, all the survivors of other shipwrecks. He soon learns that if he wants to stay on this island he must pass the initiation, which consists of carnally knowing one of the thousands of sheep that graze on the island, while everyone else watches from a bluff above where the sheep gather. On the appointed day, he enters the field, finally manages to stick it in one of the sheep, and to his surprise, anger and humiliation, all the men gathered burst into hysterical laughter. The man withdraws and angrily shouts out, “I thought this was what I was supposed to do!” The island leader responds, “It is what you are supposed to do. We are all laughing because you picked the ugliest sheep.”)

So listen up Aziz, Abbas, Ibrahim and Mahmoud; heed my call Farouk, Shareef, Hassan and Fawzi. The outside world will forgive you, indeed welcome you if you put aside all this ‘72 virgins if I blow myself up’ nonsense and come enjoy all the bountiful goods Costa Rica has to offer. Rise from your prayer rugs, ignore your weird and hairy mentors and use that money that is supposed to go to your family after you turn yourself into a human guided missile on a one-way ticket here. I promise you, after the life you have lived, you will indeed swear you have found paradise.


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