There’s practically nothing uglier and more hypocritically brutal than  violence midwived in the name of religious purity.  Already over 100 are dead as a result of the Nigerian Miss World riot frogspawned by rampaging Muslims (with ‘Christians’, in kind, reacting) in purported defense of the honor of their beloved Prophet, Mohammed, whom they claim was blasphemed in a newspaper article earlier this week.

So what’s the beef?

The riots began after an article in the Lagos-based daily newspaper This Day on Wednesday questioned Muslim groups that have condemned the Miss World pageant.

The front-page article said: "What would (the prophet) Mohammad think? In all honesty, he would probably have chosen a wife from among them (the contestants)."  -CNN

The newspaper, though offices were burnt, was forced to print three apologies.  The government is likely to severely punish it in days to come.  And the spokeswoman for the Miss World pageant has said:  "We regret these incidents, but this is not the fault of Miss World.   It is the result of irresponsible journalism."

Yes, the journalism was irresponsible.  And the attribution of such unimaginable behavior to the Prophet was wrong, very wrong.  What should the newspaper have stated, in my opinion, instead?

 "What would (the prophet) Mohammad think? In all honesty, he would probably would have been a judge in the show.  And he probably would have screwed all the runner-ups and have given the nod to the best among them (the contestants)."

Hey, Herman Hesse had Siddhartha Gautama, the historical Buddha, sleeping, living, and learning with concubines in his novel Siddhartha.  And Buddhism, for the most part today, is resultingly sublime.   Maybe if the Prophet, too, could have gotten his rocks off at a beauty contest, more Muslim fundamentalists today would, in turn, be making love, not terrorizing war.

So right here, right now, I’m proclaiming to all of you I-am-a-wealthy-Nigerian-relative-of-a-persecuted-wealthy-Nigerian-billionaire-who-needs-you-to-take-control-of-all-of-our-funds-overseas  religious zealots:  the Prophet had the biggest dang dong in all of Koran-dom and surely would have delighted each and every one of the World’s missies if he would have ever happened to be the happy host.

There, all you mayhem-Muslims and crotchety-Christians of Nigeria: This is a real man’s unapologetic blog.  The servers are conveniently headquartered in NYC.  Quit pussy-footing with your horrible, parochial, self-destructive riots, pick up the torch of Miss Liberty, and look up Xanga—maybe even ask john if you can take a tour.  Or even meet us for a Xanga MeetUp—I’ll try to arrange to have some girls available that would have met up to the Prophet’s preferences.

This Week's Cataclysm Alert:  Killer Meteorites this week are being downgraded as potential sources for cataclysm, while Black Holes are ascending -->  <-- in the hierarchy of mass universal destruction. 

This week alone we have been informed that there are two ‘Super’ black holes on a collision course at the center of our galaxy with the potential to “warp the fabric of space itself” and…and… that there is a vagrant ‘Runaway’ black hole headed directly towards a ravaging of our very own Mr. Rogers-type neighboring space (‘Runaway black hole headed our way’). 

I guess since black holes really don’t hit things (except themselves as mentioned above) but rather ‘suck them in,’ that if we escape this ‘runaway’, it will be by a 'near-suck' rather than a 'near-hit'.  My own read on this is that, as the runaway gets closer, not only will civilization fire itself up with the fervor of ‘Last Days’ religiosity, but blow-jobs will become entirely taboo sexual acts for they will be considered black-magically sympathetic, if not actually synergistic, with the ‘Big Suck’.

Meanwhile, the threat from ‘Killer Asteroids’

has been reduced from ‘wear your hardhat, we're certain’ in the next few years to ‘tell your children to tell their children to kiss their asses goodbye’.  Now that’s a relief!  Of course, this ‘revision’ is based upon an extremely small number of observations in a short span of time that statisticians (such as myself) deem ridiculously unreliable.  But since when has a statistician’s stern admonishments ever stopped a ‘Thank-God-it-will-be-them-and-not-us’ party from erupting?

I don’t know about all of you, but this week’s official cataclysmic flip-flopping is just a bit too much for me.  So my recourse and refuge after work today will be to follow the lead of our own drunken Sun (wherein photons bounce around aimlessly for millions of years) and allow the neuron firings in my brain to bounce around in grand aimless solar-emulation in my soon-to-be-drunken bar-hugging head.

Somebody somewhere once read this before...

I ‘miss you’ in the nighttime when I first lay down to sleep,

Then I ‘kiss you’ in my dreamland where conjoined our hearts take leap.

But in the morning when I wake up, I find I even need you more

Cause I’m still sailing passion’s ocean and you’re yet my unseen shore.