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Everyone seems to wonder why Muslim terrorists are so quick to commit suicide.
Let’s see now. No beer. No booze. No bars. No television. No cheerleaders. No baseball. No basketball. No football. No hockey. No golf. No tailgate parties. No Hooters. No pork barbeque. No hot dogs. No burgers. No lobster, shellfish, or even frozen fish sticks.
Rags for clothes and towels for hats. Constant wailing from the guy in the tower down the street, and from the guy next door because he’s sick and there’s no doctors. No chocolate chip cookies. No Christmas. He can’t shave and neither can his wife. He can’t shower to wash off the lingering smell of donkey cooked over burning camel dung. The women have to wear baggy dresses and veils at all times. Someone else picks his bride. She smells like his donkey, and his camel has a better disposition.
Then his clergyman assures him that when he dies in the name of his faith, he will instantly go to paradise.
H-m-m-m-m. No mystery here.
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