I am not one to usually repost things I get in an e-mail, but this one has some great points that I agree with:
Letter written by an angry housewife from New Jersey.
Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was it or was it not
started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on September 11, 2001?
Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally
murdered that day in downtown Manhattan, in a field in Pennsylvania and across the Potomac from our nation's capitol ?
Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?
And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was desecrated when an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet? Well, I don't. I don't care at all.
I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.
I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start
caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in
Saudi Arabia .
I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are sorry for hacking off
Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed throat.
I'll care when the cowardly so-called insurgents in Iraq come out and
fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in
I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide bombs.
I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First
Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights.
In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this: I don't care.
When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliated in what amounts to a college-hazing incident, rest assured: I don't care.
When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank: I don't care.
When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed special food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining
that his holy book is being mishandled, you can absolutely believe in
your heart of hearts: I don't care.
And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled Koran and
other times Quran. Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and-you guessed it: I do not care.