In Part Two of her confronting essay on terrorists, sex and violence, contributing editor-at-large Tess Lawrence throws some verbal IEDs into the mix and again emphasises that no terrorists were harmed in the making of this article.
SUICIDE BOMBERS. MASTURBATING BLOOD IN THE DARK (Part Two)
TERRORISTS — TERRIFIED OF WOMEN AND WHAT’S BETWEEN THEIR LEGS—AND EARS
Let’s face it, the terrorist fraternity, whilst not homogenous, in all its desperate and disparate forms is predominantly a single sex club.
I say, without fear of contradiction, that these murderers are not only terrified of women — they are terrified of what is between their legs and they are terrified of what is between their ears. And they are terrified of sex. And at the same time, obsessed by it.
Nowhere is this more prevalent than in Saudi Arabia, home of the wannabe Wahabis.
If ideologues would like to debate this issue with me at any time, I’m up for it.
But they are too gutless; they couldn’t cope; they wouldn’t cope; wouldn’t risk it. They’re too frightened.
So are their ideological brothers who preside over so many brutal despotic regimes, and under so-called benign, even ‘soft diplomatic’ governments in other countries.
They kill their own women who speak out. They kill their mothers, their sisters, their daughters.
There have been reports of young men and women being raped for the sole purpose of brainwashing them into believing the only way they can regain respect and ‘forgiveness’ is to become a suicide bomber.
They bury alive 11 year old girls, bind their hands behind their backs, dig holes and place them in a sitting position because they talk to boys. They stone and behead women and girl children, and marry them off underage to ageing gits. They bomb schools and music and art and ballet and sport classes.
And sometimes ‘we’ do too — with our drone planes and drone politics and outsourced hypocrisy.
They kill little ones and with them dies hope for the future. I think of them, and foolishly light candles for them in a lapsed Catholic way, to stop myself going mad with grief for young lives extinguished by adult executioners whose problem-solving talents extend no further than the blade of a sword, the barrel of a gun, or the detonation of a bomb.
These brave child killers – who murder kids because they are frightened that education will render them resilient to brainwashing and dictatorship – paradoxically, and according to the
‘Muslim street ‘ are taking more children as brides — they make more sexually compliant fodder and are now the equivalent of a trophy bride; read bridette.
It is not religious practice. It is not even cultural. Although both excuses have historically been used around the world in its defence.
It is sexual expediency — and it is time we stood up to help our sisters, who get killed, imprisoned and tortured and threatened, for speaking and writing the truth.
And before ‘we’ – whoever ‘we’ are – get on our highly strung thoroughly overbred horse, we need to acknowledge that the history of the ‘West’, like all points of the global compass, is tragically imbued with child slavery and sexual abuse, both in Britannia and all the waves she once ruled — including those that lap the bleached shores of Terra Australis.
And it still goes on.
As for child brides, you need look no further than the British and European monarchies and remember that Juliet Capulet was in her first year as a teenager and may not even have been menstruating (probably not, since a boy would have been playing her role in Sheikh Speare’s day).
And of course almost daily, media in this country and elsewhere file reports of vile abuse and neglect and incest and rape of children and babies and all such things that preclude any of us the right to point our fingers in an ever outwardly direction only.
BEAUTY PAGEANT MOTHERS DRESS TODDLERS LIKE WHORES
Consider those mothers who pageant pimp their toddlers, who are dressed like whores and taught to simulate sexual and coital thrusts and to perform raunchy hard core dance moves to provoke a paedophile’s wet dreams.
By any measure such sexploitation constitutes child abuse, despite attempts by organisers and adult participants to promulgate the facile notion that such pageants do not exist solely for the gratification of needy mothers with transference issues.
What do the Moms of these kids do for foreplay? Dress up in their toddler daughter’s blonde wig and pink sequins to turn Daddy on?
For the most part, the seductive and suggestive moves of these performing well-trained toddlers are far more explicit — and more publicly sanctioned than similar activities taking place in other parts of the world.
A while back, the ABC’s Four Corners featured a courageous documentary by the British-based Clover Films. ‘The Warlord’s Tune‘ that dealt with the torrid paedophilia practice of Bacha Bazi (boy play) — the buying and selling of Afghani dancing boys by Warlords and others.
Courageous Afghani journalist Najibullah Quraishi, now based in the UK and part of the Clover Team, managed to gain extraordinary access and footage shot by the team proved invaluable viewing for Radhika Coomaraswamy, charged by the United Nations to raise awareness of children in war zones, and also interviewed in the show.
These kids are sexual slaves. No two ways about it. They are also known as Bacha Bareesh (beardless boys).
The modus operandi of the Warlord and Taliban paedophile is no different to our homegrown sexual terrorists.
TALIBAN TOY BOYS — IN GIRLIE MAKE UP
These boys are sexual slaves. They have minders, managers, music teachers — ergo pimps. Parents are cultivated and lured to release their children in exchange for monies such as a monthly stipend.
These families are invariably impoverished. Some of the children don’t want to go with the pimp. They have no choice. No voice. Some of them are murdered or simply disappear. They get too ‘troublesome’ — and too old as soon as they start showing a beard.
Reminds me of the Castrati where, in the so-called age of enlightenment, we used to castrate choir boys so that their voices could never break, even though their spirits did. But it was an honour, don’t you know. Oh, yes, some Popes even insisted on them being in their Holy choirs. Holy orders. That’s proper culture for you. European style. Little more than body piercing, n’est ce pas? A cut above.
God’s men, it seems, are by no means immune from leading kids into temptation and so often have delivered them into evil — our Courts are full of it. And the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland, once thought impervious to outside scrutiny, has convulsed over its sexual transgressions upon little ones.
The dancing tableaux and filming techniques in the Clover doco reminded me, at times, of a Caravaggio painting; the filming done in such difficult and strained circumstances.
These beautiful boys in full girlie make-up, ironically wearing the dancing vestments of a young girl — whirled and twirled in a circle ringed by desperate, arousing squatting men, whose wide eyes and mouths spoke openly of lust and love in the same breath and boasted of how their wives would basically have to put up with their husband coming home from a hard day at the child sex slave procurement office, with a good looking, smooth faced toy boy he’d bought for a song. To say nothing of the diseases and drugs that come with the package. For the boys, as well as the wives.
And note that the Bacha Bazi are dressed as girls. Hmmmmmmm. Still, look at Mardi Pate de Fois Gras. We all feed on this stuff, don’t we?
Note that we run our paedophile rings and sex tours to Asia with equal predatory alacrity as the Afghanis — or anyone else.
These men also spoke openly of their desire to purchase and possess these boys — and some of these boys were no more than little kids. Haram. The authorities are totally aware of what is going on — and it is certainly not confined to the Northern provinces. It goes on in Kabul and elsewhere.
What is more, people have known about it for years and international reports have been posted on the net for years. We have all known about it.
And get this, not only do the Afghani Government and police known about this trade in child sex abuse and trafficking – and some of them condone and participate in the vile practice – so do the Americans, Australians, British, Pakistanis, Indians, French, Italians — just to name a few of those who remain complicit.
But, hey, we’ve got to get our priorities right — there’s a war going on and we’ve got to win the hearts and mindless over. We can’t interfere in religious and cultural affairs. Not our problem.
Well, the Q’uran in fact, doesn’t advocate sodomising little boys any more than it advocates sodomising little girls or mutilating their genitals.
Nor are these crimes confined to Muslims and we need to remind ourselves that chopping off the clit and sewing up the labia has been going on for centuries and butchering clits was prescribed in Victorian England as a cure against insomnia — the reasoning being that if they weren’t sleeping, then little girls must be playing with themselves.
We all know that one of the first things that little boy bubs do after finding Mum’s breast, is to find their willies – and henceforth they rarely let go of it, the little dears, and continue to do so into adulthood – and we don’t chop off their little saveloys because they can’t sleep. Do you see where I’m going with this?
Surely all children should be held dear and sacred and of equal value — wherever they may live or die.
And surely we adults should strive to protect them whether they are in our own backyard or offshore. This is a constant and universal struggle.
Afghani children are no less important, nor of greater importance than a child in Balmain, Redfern, Double Bay or Berwick. We should not only protect our own kids and bring paedophiles and perpetrators to Justice, but we should work hard to assist and protect children at risk in other countries — and exert political pressure on our leaders to have the courage to speak out in protest.
CHILD SEX ABUSE — INTERNATIONAL SPORT WORTHY OF OLYMPIAN CITATION
All countries have a shared history when it comes to child sex abuse and trafficking. You would be forgiven for thinking it was an international sport worthy of Olympian citation. And sadly, we in Australia may well be a contender for a Gold Medal or two.
If you think that online paedophilia is a victimless crime then think again. There are babies posted in these sex galleries. And often their images are posted by their parents.
This child pornography is a multi-billion dollar industry and Australian Task Forces assigned to break these online paedophile rings will confirm that perpetrators are not always the stereotypical redneck trailer trash you may suppose — but are often professional men in white collar professions whose work dress may be a pinstripe suit rather than overalls, with extremely high incomes and access to the best of modern technology. Often they are married and have children. Several have suicided once exposed and questioned about their activities.
We live as we humans always have, in times of abject hypocrisy. Where if a Pope indulges in a bit of sadomasochism and whips himself into a loud frenzy, then that is regarded as a cherished penance and bearing the sins of the world upon the Papal shoulders.
If that same Pope keeps a special belt in his wardrobe for these self-inflicted flagellations, it indicates his capacity for pain and cleansing the universal soul; a sign of love for humanity. Giving himself the strap. Not at all getting his rocks off. Peter or no Peter. This type of self-harm is okey dokey.
And yet, if an English politician was caught doing similar things to bring themselves to ecstasy or climax, wearing fishneck stockings and perhaps an orange plonked in his gob – and certainly at least one such pollie has inadvertently killed himself performing this one trick – then there is public outrage and ridicule.
No-one is going to believe it was holy penance for the sins of a wicked, wicked world.
If we’re going to put the Blunnie boot in — put it in all round. That’s if we’re going to be fair dinkum about issues of human rights, freedom of speech and justice, natural or judicial. Why does Justice really wear that blindfold?
When Kevin Rudd was Prime Minister, he released a white paper on counter-terrorism and affirmed what we already know — that terrorism has become a persistent and permanent feature of Australia’s security environment. Yeah, right. Do you want fridge magnets with that?
But he was right when he said the biggest threat is from those who are Australian born. The enemy within is always the more dangerous.
The bottom line is that as a people and as a community, we shouldn’t be frightened of speaking out — even loudly and in a shrill tone. Vigorous debate does not automatically translate into racial or religious vilification.
AUSTRALIA — DAILY FIGHT FOR FREEDOM OF SPEECH
Even in Australia we have to daily fight for freedom of speech, freedom of thought, freedom to write, to hold a differing opinion without being denounced as a traitor, a troublemaker, a terrorist, or being bombed, knifed, or having your throat slit or your car tyres slashed because you hold a specific point of view.
Giving access in the mainstream media to those who are displaced in our complex communities; giving voice to the voiceless, dismantling the walls of ignorance between ‘them’ and ‘us’ and working towards ensuring that ‘we’ can remain individuals but part of the human family; cherished and valued by our society – and dealt with justly if we transgress – and protected from bullies and bigots — that’s fair, isn’t it?
I am no forensic psychologist but from my discussions with experts – and observations in the field – it is clear that the psychological ‘DNA’ of the ‘terrorist’ (depending on the definition) is an endemic profile found in various countries and spawned for various reasons.
And let us not forget that some countries are ruled by competing and marauding gangs of despotic terrorists — but if those same terrorists post a video on the net describing the likes of George W. Bush as a war mongering President whose mates in Halliburton/KBR and Blackwater made an awful lot of moolah out of the Iraq War, they are not going to get much of an argument from me. They have a point.
Does that make me a terrorist? Hell, no. But would my scribblings or talks denouncing Dubya’s defiling of Presidential office be noted by the authorities? Hell, yes!
I guess I am just a scared little guyette. So often we are herded into dancing to the tune of warlords, whether they rule Wall St, Wadis or multinationals.
True dissidents (not poseurs) are critical to community debate — in the same way that stronger Oppositions up the ante and make for stronger Governments.
THE HYMEN HAS LONG SINCE FOSSILISED
I just can’t seem to get motivated about saving my soul, but. I’m more concerned about saving my body. Not in a virginal way. The hymen has long since fossilised and, of course, I have a barren womb — that must mean a barren heart. You there Bill? Where is a decent Heffernan when you need one?
No, my body is too ravaged by time and neglect. I mean in a metaphorical way, here on earth.
It’s called instant gratification. I want it all and I want it now. Peace, that is. Not the perfect shade of lipstick, although I think I’ve found that now.
Some of my Muslim sisters in Afghanistan put me onto a few blood red shades. It’s a bit of fun and nonsense between us — but in the communities in which they live, such nonsense could be deemed disgusting and anti-Muslim and could result in them being beaten, even killed. Even by the very pious men who would lay with and sodomise young boys wearing lipstick and kohl. Go figure.
It is time that the links between terrorists, suicide bombers, sex and violence is properly investigated — and funds need to be allocated to what, in fact, may ultimately hold some of the keys to defusing this complicated and menacing omnipresence.
The current military colonising and corporate management acquisition of wars and related infrastructure, the importation of foreign armies drawn from both the public and private sector and deployed into the likes of Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, continues to be done in such a thoughtless and non-cohesive way that it leaves ordinary and decent men and their families bereft of any input into their community and into their collective future.
Such men feel so isolated and emasculated. So many former breadwinners are now bred losers. Big time. Unemployed and unemployable because they can’t afford to buy their way up the corrupt human food chain. They make perfect fodder for insurgents and sometimes make compliant suicide bombers since they have nothing to lose; their self-esteem long since dissipated.
These young fathers, brothers and sons who become suicide bombers are the disposable frontline stooges — terrorism for dummies.
YOU HEARD THE CAJOLING HANDLERS OF THE MUMBAI ATTACKS
You heard the older handlers of the 2008 Mumbai attacks, as they constantly cajoled and issued instructions to their younger and clearly frightened charges. Prompting them as they busked their dance of death.
You must have noted their irritation at times with the slowness and hesitation of the death squad — there it was again, that grooming, the paedophile technique, supplanting fear with authority, replacing hesitation with certainty; replacing doubt with absolutes. They were good handlers, brothers. Talk you down in a disabled plane, no sweat. Leave our footy coaches for dead. Literally.
You could tell by their voices that the handlers would never be the types to place themselves in the line of fire. You could hear the growing excitement in their voices as the death count increased and the mayhem and blood flowed more freely — and the fire and explosions increased.
You could feel them getting off on the violence of it all, as psychopaths do. I have no doubt they were masturbating whilst they called the shots. And that’s how I’d like us to think of these punks. All of them, AQ and the rest. Yup, and you can put Dubya in there with that lot. These types are neither lovers nor fighters. They are haters. They even give psychopaths a bad name.
You knew that the handlers, like many of us, were watching the carnage that they choreographed unfold on the telly in real time before their/our very eyes. Mumbai was dancing to their macabre tune.
They were starring in their own Bollywood movie, the ultimate reality show, listening to their own voices on air to the world; watching those demonic tongues of flame devour the Taj Mahal Hotel, named for that shrine of Love built for Mumtaz by her Beloved Shah Jahan.
On that day, cowards ruled but heroes overruled.
Where are those voices now? To whom do they belong? Strip them of their mobile phones and their acolytes and they are no more than hollow and gutless men.
These men are not excited by either lust or love. Fear, power, violence, watching others in the throes of death, subjecting others to torture, watching prisoners, captives and frightened villagers wetting their pantaloons and cowering in fear, raping the women in another man’s household, skewering babies, ripping open pregnant stomachs, planting IEDs under non-military targets, killing innocent civilians — mediocre and pro forma items on the average terrorist’s CV.
We saw this thread of sadism, of human bondage and dehumanising exposed in the notorious Abu Ghraib photos.
It is curious how often sexual subjugation features in political subjugation.
Often these assaults are promulgated by distant third parties, sometimes far removed from these crimes against our shared humanity but who drink greedily from the fountains of blood spilled by others on their behalf and on their orders.
And who are able to brainwash others into believing that theirs is a religion to die for.