/lit/ - Literature

>>17832255
>Musa wasn't always musa. Italian on his dad's side, Anglo-Aussie on his mum's, Musa was christened Robert. Musa became fascinated with religion at his Catholic primary school. His family wasn't observant, so he was out on his own on this spiritual journey. In 2000, he visited the Vatican with his school.

>"I mean, looking at the Sistine Chapel, seeing this old man with a beard, and they're telling me that's the God they worship? I'm like, 'The Ten Commandments says you shouldn't make images of God.' I realised when we'd pray back in primary school, we'd say, 'Holy Mary, mother of God', and I was sort of like, 'Hold on a moment. Mother of God? God doesn't have a mother.' And I was like, 'Damn ... this is pretty weird.' I realised that the Catholic Church were absolute nut-jobs." At the age of 17, he converted to Islam.

>Musa seems to know everyone in Footscray. He moseys down the street with his hand in his pocket, shooting "Salaam alaikums" and small talk to the perfume salesman in the mall and the old men in a Sudanese restaurant. He's like the Fonz. We chew on Sudanese meat dishes in the restaurant. He's ranting about a woman, a left-wing activist from his uni days.

>Musa had enrolled at Victoria University in an arts course, majoring in media and history, and on Orientation Day he found she had set up a stall next to his Islamic Society table. "She came over and dropped this pile of flyers for an event they were having, something pro-Palestine," he recalls. "So I said to her, 'Please take them off. I don't want them here.'"

>This is the first time I've seen fire in his eyes. This is a different Musa to the one at the house. "She was giving me this confused look, like, 'Why not? I mean, it's for Palestine.' I said, 'Look, you're not a Muslim, you don't agree with Islam. As for us, that's what we want for Palestine. We want Sharia, we want Islamic law. You don't want that, so let's admit we don't want the same thing.' She started to get a little bit offended. She's like, 'Oh, but, you know, we have to work together,' and I'm like, 'No, we don't have to work together.'"

[....]

>["...]The vast majority of Muslims are clear on 95 per cent of matters. You have to pray five times a day - nobody is saying it's six or four - we all agree. The punishment for adultery for a married person is that they are killed. It's clear; nobody debates this."

>I find this difficult to believe. "Surely people, like Muslims in Australia, would ... if I went to Nazeem at Triple J and said, 'Do you think adulterers should be stoned?' he'd go, 'No', wouldn't he?"

>"They don't have to be stoned," Musa says. "You could also cut their head off."

>Musa wasn't always musa. Italian on his dad's side, Anglo-Aussie on his mum's, Musa was christened Robert. Musa became fascinated with religion at his Catholic primary school. His family wasn't observant, so he was out on his own on this spiritual journey. In 2000, he visited the Vatican with his school.

>"I mean, looking at the Sistine Chapel, seeing this old man with a beard, and they're telling me that's the God they worship? I'm like, 'The Ten Commandments says you shouldn't make images of God.' I realised when we'd pray back in primary school, we'd say, 'Holy Mary, mother of God', and I was sort of like, 'Hold on a moment. Mother of God? God doesn't have a mother.' And I was like, 'Damn ... this is pretty weird.' I realised that the Catholic Church were absolute nut-jobs." At the age of 17, he converted to Islam.

>Musa seems to know everyone in Footscray. He moseys down the street with his hand in his pocket, shooting "Salaam alaikums" and small talk to the perfume salesman in the mall and the old men in a Sudanese restaurant. He's like the Fonz. We chew on Sudanese meat dishes in the restaurant. He's ranting about a woman, a left-wing activist from his uni days.

>Musa had enrolled at Victoria University in an arts course, majoring in media and history, and on Orientation Day he found she had set up a stall next to his Islamic Society table. "She came over and dropped this pile of flyers for an event they were having, something pro-Palestine," he recalls. "So I said to her, 'Please take them off. I don't want them here.'"

>This is the first time I've seen fire in his eyes. This is a different Musa to the one at the house. "She was giving me this confused look, like, 'Why not? I mean, it's for Palestine.' I said, 'Look, you're not a Muslim, you don't agree with Islam. As for us, that's what we want for Palestine. We want Sharia, we want Islamic law. You don't want that, so let's admit we don't want the same thing.' She started to get a little bit offended. She's like, 'Oh, but, you know, we have to work together,' and I'm like, 'No, we don't have to work together.'"

[....]

>["...]The vast majority of Muslims are clear on 95 per cent of matters. You have to pray five times a day - nobody is saying it's six or four - we all agree. The punishment for adultery for a married person is that they are killed. It's clear; nobody debates this."

>I find this difficult to believe. "Surely people, like Muslims in Australia, would ... if I went to Nazeem at Triple J and said, 'Do you think adulterers should be stoned?' he'd go, 'No', wouldn't he?"

>"They don't have to be stoned," Musa says. "You could also cut their head off."

https://archive.org/details/thefilthofnationalismandthehaqofjihadbysheikhmusacerantonio

>Musa wasn't always musa. Italian on his dad's side, Anglo-Aussie on his mum's, Musa was christened Robert. Musa became fascinated with religion at his Catholic primary school. His family wasn't observant, so he was out on his own on this spiritual journey. In 2000, he visited the Vatican with his school.

>"I mean, looking at the Sistine Chapel, seeing this old man with a beard, and they're telling me that's the God they worship? I'm like, 'The Ten Commandments says you shouldn't make images of God.' I realised when we'd pray back in primary school, we'd say, 'Holy Mary, mother of God', and I was sort of like, 'Hold on a moment. Mother of God? God doesn't have a mother.' And I was like, 'Damn ... this is pretty weird.' I realised that the Catholic Church were absolute nut-jobs." At the age of 17, he converted to Islam.

>Musa seems to know everyone in Footscray. He moseys down the street with his hand in his pocket, shooting "Salaam alaikums" and small talk to the perfume salesman in the mall and the old men in a Sudanese restaurant. He's like the Fonz. We chew on Sudanese meat dishes in the restaurant. He's ranting about a woman, a left-wing activist from his uni days.

>Musa had enrolled at Victoria University in an arts course, majoring in media and history, and on Orientation Day he found she had set up a stall next to his Islamic Society table. "She came over and dropped this pile of flyers for an event they were having, something pro-Palestine," he recalls. "So I said to her, 'Please take them off. I don't want them here.'"

>This is the first time I've seen fire in his eyes. This is a different Musa to the one at the house. "She was giving me this confused look, like, 'Why not? I mean, it's for Palestine.' I said, 'Look, you're not a Muslim, you don't agree with Islam. As for us, that's what we want for Palestine. We want Sharia, we want Islamic law. You don't want that, so let's admit we don't want the same thing.' She started to get a little bit offended. She's like, 'Oh, but, you know, we have to work together,' and I'm like, 'No, we don't have to work together.'"

[....]

>["...]The vast majority of Muslims are clear on 95 per cent of matters. You have to pray five times a day - nobody is saying it's six or four - we all agree. The punishment for adultery for a married person is that they are killed. It's clear; nobody debates this."

>I find this difficult to believe. "Surely people, like Muslims in Australia, would ... if I went to Nazeem at Triple J and said, 'Do you think adulterers should be stoned?' he'd go, 'No', wouldn't he?"

>"They don't have to be stoned," Musa says. "You could also cut their head off."

>>17518620
>Musa wasn't always musa. Italian on his dad's side, Anglo-Aussie on his mum's, Musa was christened Robert. Musa became fascinated with religion at his Catholic primary school. His family wasn't observant, so he was out on his own on this spiritual journey. In 2000, he visited the Vatican with his school.

>"I mean, looking at the Sistine Chapel, seeing this old man with a beard, and they're telling me that's the God they worship? I'm like, 'The Ten Commandments says you shouldn't make images of God.' I realised when we'd pray back in primary school, we'd say, 'Holy Mary, mother of God', and I was sort of like, 'Hold on a moment. Mother of God? God doesn't have a mother.' And I was like, 'Damn ... this is pretty weird.' I realised that the Catholic Church were absolute nut-jobs." At the age of 17, he converted to Islam.

>Musa seems to know everyone in Footscray. He moseys down the street with his hand in his pocket, shooting "Salaam alaikums" and small talk to the perfume salesman in the mall and the old men in a Sudanese restaurant. He's like the Fonz. We chew on Sudanese meat dishes in the restaurant. He's ranting about a woman, a left-wing activist from his uni days.

>Musa had enrolled at Victoria University in an arts course, majoring in media and history, and on Orientation Day he found she had set up a stall next to his Islamic Society table. "She came over and dropped this pile of flyers for an event they were having, something pro-Palestine," he recalls. "So I said to her, 'Please take them off. I don't want them here.'"

>This is the first time I've seen fire in his eyes. This is a different Musa to the one at the house. "She was giving me this confused look, like, 'Why not? I mean, it's for Palestine.' I said, 'Look, you're not a Muslim, you don't agree with Islam. As for us, that's what we want for Palestine. We want Sharia, we want Islamic law. You don't want that, so let's admit we don't want the same thing.' She started to get a little bit offended. She's like, 'Oh, but, you know, we have to work together,' and I'm like, 'No, we don't have to work together.'"

[....]

>["...]The vast majority of Muslims are clear on 95 per cent of matters. You have to pray five times a day - nobody is saying it's six or four - we all agree. The punishment for adultery for a married person is that they are killed. It's clear; nobody debates this."

>I find this difficult to believe. "Surely people, like Muslims in Australia, would ... if I went to Nazeem at Triple J and said, 'Do you think adulterers should be stoned?' he'd go, 'No', wouldn't he?"

>"They don't have to be stoned," Musa says. "You could also cut their head off."

How would a Rawls go about addressing Islam? Does he ever have an answer to the discrepancy in it between laws for men and women, slave and free, and biggest of all, believer and unbeliever?

>Musa wasn't always musa. Italian on his dad's side, Anglo-Aussie on his mum's, Musa was christened Robert. Musa became fascinated with religion at his Catholic primary school. His family wasn't observant, so he was out on his own on this spiritual journey. In 2000, he visited the Vatican with his school.

>"I mean, looking at the Sistine Chapel, seeing this old man with a beard, and they're telling me that's the God they worship? I'm like, 'The Ten Commandments says you shouldn't make images of God.' I realised when we'd pray back in primary school, we'd say, 'Holy Mary, mother of God', and I was sort of like, 'Hold on a moment. Mother of God? God doesn't have a mother.' And I was like, 'Damn ... this is pretty weird.' I realised that the Catholic Church were absolute nut-jobs." At the age of 17, he converted to Islam.

>Musa seems to know everyone in Footscray. He moseys down the street with his hand in his pocket, shooting "Salaam alaikums" and small talk to the perfume salesman in the mall and the old men in a Sudanese restaurant. He's like the Fonz. We chew on Sudanese meat dishes in the restaurant. He's ranting about a woman, a left-wing activist from his uni days.

>Musa had enrolled at Victoria University in an arts course, majoring in media and history, and on Orientation Day he found she had set up a stall next to his Islamic Society table. "She came over and dropped this pile of flyers for an event they were having, something pro-Palestine," he recalls. "So I said to her, 'Please take them off. I don't want them here.'"

>This is the first time I've seen fire in his eyes. This is a different Musa to the one at the house. "She was giving me this confused look, like, 'Why not? I mean, it's for Palestine.' I said, 'Look, you're not a Muslim, you don't agree with Islam. As for us, that's what we want for Palestine. We want Sharia, we want Islamic law. You don't want that, so let's admit we don't want the same thing.' She started to get a little bit offended. She's like, 'Oh, but, you know, we have to work together,' and I'm like, 'No, we don't have to work together.'"

[....]

>["...]The vast majority of Muslims are clear on 95 per cent of matters. You have to pray five times a day - nobody is saying it's six or four - we all agree. The punishment for adultery for a married person is that they are killed. It's clear; nobody debates this."

>I find this difficult to believe. "Surely people, like Muslims in Australia, would ... if I went to Nazeem at Triple J and said, 'Do you think adulterers should be stoned?' he'd go, 'No', wouldn't he?"

>"They don't have to be stoned," Musa says. "You could also cut their head off."

>>17333811
>We can trace it all to economics
No, it's a spiritual malaise, and it can only be fixed in jihad. The spiritual disorder has economic perversion as its symptom, not cause

>Musa wasn't always musa. Italian on his dad's side, Anglo-Aussie on his mum's, Musa was christened Robert. Musa became fascinated with religion at his Catholic primary school. His family wasn't observant, so he was out on his own on this spiritual journey. In 2000, he visited the Vatican with his school.

>"I mean, looking at the Sistine Chapel, seeing this old man with a beard, and they're telling me that's the God they worship? I'm like, 'The Ten Commandments says you shouldn't make images of God.' I realised when we'd pray back in primary school, we'd say, 'Holy Mary, mother of God', and I was sort of like, 'Hold on a moment. Mother of God? God doesn't have a mother.' And I was like, 'Damn ... this is pretty weird.' I realised that the Catholic Church were absolute nut-jobs." At the age of 17, he converted to Islam.

>Musa seems to know everyone in Footscray. He moseys down the street with his hand in his pocket, shooting "Salaam alaikums" and small talk to the perfume salesman in the mall and the old men in a Sudanese restaurant. He's like the Fonz. We chew on Sudanese meat dishes in the restaurant. He's ranting about a woman, a left-wing activist from his uni days.

>Musa had enrolled at Victoria University in an arts course, majoring in media and history, and on Orientation Day he found she had set up a stall next to his Islamic Society table. "She came over and dropped this pile of flyers for an event they were having, something pro-Palestine," he recalls. "So I said to her, 'Please take them off. I don't want them here.'"

>This is the first time I've seen fire in his eyes. This is a different Musa to the one at the house. "She was giving me this confused look, like, 'Why not? I mean, it's for Palestine.' I said, 'Look, you're not a Muslim, you don't agree with Islam. As for us, that's what we want for Palestine. We want Sharia, we want Islamic law. You don't want that, so let's admit we don't want the same thing.' She started to get a little bit offended. She's like, 'Oh, but, you know, we have to work together,' and I'm like, 'No, we don't have to work together.'"

[....]

>["...]The vast majority of Muslims are clear on 95 per cent of matters. You have to pray five times a day - nobody is saying it's six or four - we all agree. The punishment for adultery for a married person is that they are killed. It's clear; nobody debates this."

>I find this difficult to believe. "Surely people, like Muslims in Australia, would ... if I went to Nazeem at Triple J and said, 'Do you think adulterers should be stoned?' he'd go, 'No', wouldn't he?"

>"They don't have to be stoned," Musa says. "You could also cut their head off."

>Musa wasn't always musa. Italian on his dad's side, Anglo-Aussie on his mum's, Musa was christened Robert. Musa became fascinated with religion at his Catholic primary school. His family wasn't observant, so he was out on his own on this spiritual journey. In 2000, he visited the Vatican with his school.

>"I mean, looking at the Sistine Chapel, seeing this old man with a beard, and they're telling me that's the God they worship? I'm like, 'The Ten Commandments says you shouldn't make images of God.' I realised when we'd pray back in primary school, we'd say, 'Holy Mary, mother of God', and I was sort of like, 'Hold on a moment. Mother of God? God doesn't have a mother.' And I was like, 'Damn ... this is pretty weird.' I realised that the Catholic Church were absolute nut-jobs." At the age of 17, he converted to Islam.

>Musa seems to know everyone in Footscray. He moseys down the street with his hand in his pocket, shooting "Salaam alaikums" and small talk to the perfume salesman in the mall and the old men in a Sudanese restaurant. He's like the Fonz. We chew on Sudanese meat dishes in the restaurant. He's ranting about a woman, a left-wing activist from his uni days.

>Musa had enrolled at Victoria University in an arts course, majoring in media and history, and on Orientation Day he found she had set up a stall next to his Islamic Society table. "She came over and dropped this pile of flyers for an event they were having, something pro-Palestine," he recalls. "So I said to her, 'Please take them off. I don't want them here.'"

>This is the first time I've seen fire in his eyes. This is a different Musa to the one at the house. "She was giving me this confused look, like, 'Why not? I mean, it's for Palestine.' I said, 'Look, you're not a Muslim, you don't agree with Islam. As for us, that's what we want for Palestine. We want Sharia, we want Islamic law. You don't want that, so let's admit we don't want the same thing.' She started to get a little bit offended. She's like, 'Oh, but, you know, we have to work together,' and I'm like, 'No, we don't have to work together.'"

[....]

>["...]The vast majority of Muslims are clear on 95 per cent of matters. You have to pray five times a day - nobody is saying it's six or four - we all agree. The punishment for adultery for a married person is that they are killed. It's clear; nobody debates this."

>I find this difficult to believe. "Surely people, like Muslims in Australia, would ... if I went to Nazeem at Triple J and said, 'Do you think adulterers should be stoned?' he'd go, 'No', wouldn't he?"

>"They don't have to be stoned," Musa says. "You could also cut their head off."

Is he, dare I say it, /ourguy/?

>Musa wasn't always musa. Italian on his dad's side, Anglo-Aussie on his mum's, Musa was christened Robert. Musa became fascinated with religion at his Catholic primary school. His family wasn't observant, so he was out on his own on this spiritual journey. In 2000, he visited the Vatican with his school.

>"I mean, looking at the Sistine Chapel, seeing this old man with a beard, and they're telling me that's the God they worship? I'm like, 'The Ten Commandments says you shouldn't make images of God.' I realised when we'd pray back in primary school, we'd say, 'Holy Mary, mother of God', and I was sort of like, 'Hold on a moment. Mother of God? God doesn't have a mother.' And I was like, 'Damn ... this is pretty weird.' I realised that the Catholic Church were absolute nut-jobs." At the age of 17, he converted to Islam.

>Musa seems to know everyone in Footscray. He moseys down the street with his hand in his pocket, shooting "Salaam alaikums" and small talk to the perfume salesman in the mall and the old men in a Sudanese restaurant. He's like the Fonz. We chew on Sudanese meat dishes in the restaurant. He's ranting about a woman, a left-wing activist from his uni days.

>Musa had enrolled at Victoria University in an arts course, majoring in media and history, and on Orientation Day he found she had set up a stall next to his Islamic Society table. "She came over and dropped this pile of flyers for an event they were having, something pro-Palestine," he recalls. "So I said to her, 'Please take them off. I don't want them here.'"

>This is the first time I've seen fire in his eyes. This is a different Musa to the one at the house. "She was giving me this confused look, like, 'Why not? I mean, it's for Palestine.' I said, 'Look, you're not a Muslim, you don't agree with Islam. As for us, that's what we want for Palestine. We want Sharia, we want Islamic law. You don't want that, so let's admit we don't want the same thing.' She started to get a little bit offended. She's like, 'Oh, but, you know, we have to work together,' and I'm like, 'No, we don't have to work together.'"

>["...The vast majority of Muslims are clear on 95 per cent of matters. You have to pray five times a day - nobody is saying it's six or four - we all agree. The punishment for adultery for a married person is that they are killed. It's clear; nobody debates this."

>I find this difficult to believe. "Surely people, like Muslims in Australia, would ... if I went to Nazeem at Triple J and said, 'Do you think adulterers should be stoned?' he'd go, 'No', wouldn't he?"

>"They don't have to be stoned," Musa says. "You could also cut their head off."

Is he, dare I say it, /ourguy/?