A couple of years ago, I wrote about the pure hate I
felt I saw in the eyes of this lost cause of a President whenever he spoke
about Israel. It was extremely evident when in a very famous incident while he
was standing with Bibi and at that time the pure loathing Obama has for the Prime
Minister was definitely on full display.
We have seen this same look from comrade Obama in regards to his
political foes and when questioned (not enough I might add) for his open
disdain for the Laws of Our Land, our basic ideals and let’s not forget his
open Racism as is evidenced by his own words and actions as well as those of
his lawless Attorney General.
At the time I wrote of that, I mentioned that there
was once a time in which someone years ago had in my view really abused my
wife. At that time I mentioned that after the event (which luckily ended up as
nothing more than a “bad mouth my wife and I will hurt you” statement by me,
she mentioned to a friend that she had never in her life seen a look in someone’s
eyes as hateful and dangerous as to what she saw in my eyes that day. While she
agreed the guy got the message, the look itself scared her as she felt she had
seen my dark side. And she was correct. Even now, I cannot and will not put up
with things such as lazy ass employees as an example who want to be paid for
doing nothing and the looks I can give can be quite withering to say the least
but nothing compared to the day my beautiful wife saw that side of me.
I go back to that day for a reason. Today we have
Radical Islam and the open hate it spreads towards other religions, women and
the West in general. In the eyes of our President and far to many, we see open
admiration for these people. Yesterday, Sheik Obama warned Congress not to
enact sanctions against Iran and if they did, he would veto them. I saw again
the same hate aimed towards Congress I saw in his eyes that day with Bibi. Make
no mistake of this! One can indeed see hate in another’s eyes and this
President shows it openly when the narrative is not to his liking. Worse, his
hatred is aimed at us, not at the enemy that is Radical Islam!
I ran across the following at the Diogene’s Middle Finger blog.
The lady
below hits the nail square on the head. The hatred these people have for us is
real and has been around for eons. The
fact that the people involved were Muslims should not be a surprise. The fact
that the hate and rage she saw was real and hurtful should not be a surprise.
The fact that they attacked a mother protecting her daughter should not be a
surprise. The fact that she sees the same hate when she sees the Muslims of
today should not be a surprise!
The fact that this President and his moronic minions do not see this
hatred should be a surprise, but sadly it is expected from the radical scum
that is this President and his administration. And the fact that as she states
below, the Europeans have done this to themselves,we also have allowed the Anti-American loathing bastards that now
permeate our leadership to allow this to happen to us.
Read below and think of this. The hatred and rage of the Radical Muslims
is real! The Evil is real! Worse of all, the evil and hatred that comes from
the White House, State Department and more is real!
My heart goes out to her as well as my thanks for in a few words, she has stated the reality that is the hatred as espoused by Radical Islam. How sad our President cannot and will not even name it!
From
Diogene’s Middle Finger:
I'll
Attempt to Explain......
"I have recently
received email from two different regular reader of this blog about the
apparent turn to a darker more serious tone. For this I apologize, and I will
attempt in as short a way as possible to explain.
Every year I write a letter to my mother, a letter that will not be sent. She did not live long enough to see me grow to be a woman. Its cathartic for me, gives me time to reflect and ask myself "would she be proud of who I've become?"
For those who do not know, I am a product of a wonderful Scottish born musician father many of you over 40 might recognize his voice, but not his name, and an American mother. My father's work kept them in Europe most of the time and they chose to settled in a small quiet Belgian town for privacy. I was born in Brussels.
My earliest memories of childhood are of picking wild flowers with my mother in the gently rolling hills above the Flanders Military Cemetery near where we lived. These grassy hills became our favorite picnic spot, and where she taught me the things a mother teaches her daughter; why the sky is blue, how to braid you hair, and in my case, why those 500 white crosses lay below us.
She never let me forget the fact she was American, and so was I to be. She taught me the Pledge of Allegiance, and me and my friends the game of baseball. We had watermelon and strawberry shortcake on 4th of July.
Every year I write a letter to my mother, a letter that will not be sent. She did not live long enough to see me grow to be a woman. Its cathartic for me, gives me time to reflect and ask myself "would she be proud of who I've become?"
For those who do not know, I am a product of a wonderful Scottish born musician father many of you over 40 might recognize his voice, but not his name, and an American mother. My father's work kept them in Europe most of the time and they chose to settled in a small quiet Belgian town for privacy. I was born in Brussels.
My earliest memories of childhood are of picking wild flowers with my mother in the gently rolling hills above the Flanders Military Cemetery near where we lived. These grassy hills became our favorite picnic spot, and where she taught me the things a mother teaches her daughter; why the sky is blue, how to braid you hair, and in my case, why those 500 white crosses lay below us.
She never let me forget the fact she was American, and so was I to be. She taught me the Pledge of Allegiance, and me and my friends the game of baseball. We had watermelon and strawberry shortcake on 4th of July.
In the summer she would take me to the open air markets to
buy fresh fruit and flowers she loved to filled the house with. I also remember
many times dark haired, dark eyed men in the market, men who dressed and spoke
differently than my father, watching me and sometime felt them touching my
hair. One day, as a young teenager
shopping with my mother, two of these dark haired men touched me
inappropriately. My mother turned and slapped one of the men in the face. He
began yelling words I did not understand and knocked my mother to the ground.
It was while recuperating from that incident that doctors found the cancer that
would eventually take her from us a little over a year later.
What I saw in those men’s faces that hurt my mother was evil rage that I had never seen and did not understand.
They were Muslims, immigrants from a nearby enclave.
The events in Europe this past week have brought feeling to the surface I did not expect. The letter to my mother has made my mood somber, yet angry. I have tried to write about other thing here to no avail. I have been consumed by anger at the memory of what was done to my mother, and the growing concern for my childhood friends and their young children.
I have seen many angry men, none like I saw that day. I was raised by my parents to be compassionate and later by my aunt to be the proper Southern Belle I believe I've become. But when I see scenes of Muslims men in the news, I recognize the same soulless evil I saw that day in the market.
I have a deep affinity for the European people that most Americans will not understand. I lived among them and was one of them as a child. I don’t expect anyone to understand. What we see happening in Europe now is no one's fault but their own, it's self inflicted. It is now up to us to make sure we don't place ourselves in evil’s way as they have.
It hurts me deeply to see it happening, and to put it into words to my mother……"
What I saw in those men’s faces that hurt my mother was evil rage that I had never seen and did not understand.
They were Muslims, immigrants from a nearby enclave.
The events in Europe this past week have brought feeling to the surface I did not expect. The letter to my mother has made my mood somber, yet angry. I have tried to write about other thing here to no avail. I have been consumed by anger at the memory of what was done to my mother, and the growing concern for my childhood friends and their young children.
I have seen many angry men, none like I saw that day. I was raised by my parents to be compassionate and later by my aunt to be the proper Southern Belle I believe I've become. But when I see scenes of Muslims men in the news, I recognize the same soulless evil I saw that day in the market.
I have a deep affinity for the European people that most Americans will not understand. I lived among them and was one of them as a child. I don’t expect anyone to understand. What we see happening in Europe now is no one's fault but their own, it's self inflicted. It is now up to us to make sure we don't place ourselves in evil’s way as they have.
It hurts me deeply to see it happening, and to put it into words to my mother……"
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