Mark Twain and the Mohammedans (who) would not defile their hands by burying the ‘infidel dogs.’

In his book Innocents Abroad, 1869, which established his reputation as a writer, Mark Twain described Syria under the Ottoman Turkish Empire:

“Five thousand Christians…were massacred in Damascus in 1861 by the Turks…

Narrow streets ran blood for several days, and that men, women and children were butchered indiscriminately and left to rot by hundreds all through the Christian quarter…the stench was dreadful.

…All the Christians who could get away fled from the city, and the Mohammedans would not defile their hands by burying the ‘infidel dogs.’

…The thirst for blood extended to the high lands of Hermon and Anti-Lebanon, and in a short time twenty-five thousand more Christians were massacred…”

Mark Twain described Jerusalem under Ottoman Muslim rule:

“Rags, wretchedness, poverty and dirt, those signs and symbols that indicate the presence of Moslem rule.”

6 thoughts on “Mark Twain and the Mohammedans (who) would not defile their hands by burying the ‘infidel dogs.’”

  1. Recently I cleared my shelves of it’s awful weight of mohammedan subjects collected since 9/11. All were passed on to friends who expressed common interests. Not one volume ever condemned islam. In each and every instance islam condemned itself from it’s inception to tomorrow’s headlines forevermore. Twain, Churchill, Balakian, and Coughlin, et al, all have all gotten it right. Watch the movie “The Experimenter” (about Dr Milgram) to learn a bit more about both islam and us. I think it quite relevant.






    As the waves of Muslim “migrants” wash across Europe and the United Kingdom, waves of Marxist empowered, criminal, violent, invasive, predatory and parasitic Muslim and African filth now lapping at the shores of North America and Australia, all of us and all of them understand, or should be made to understand, one thing and one thing only. That this madness will end in one of two ways; one, the utter annihilation of Western civilization or two, the blistering opposition to this invasion by Europeans arming themselves, rising and driving the Middle Easterners and Africans back to their homes.

    Now, as detailed in the link above, the Muslims and Africans are again flexing their muscles and testing the limits and patience of the Europeans. So far there has been no response of any efficacy or substance to the acts of intrusion and violence and as such, that lack of response has empowered and emboldened this Middle Eastern/African effluence to exponentially increase their demands and violence.

    I marvel at the utter stupidity of millions of people who wither and cringe at the very thought of providing an effective opposition to those Muslims who now invade their countries, cities and towns. These same “civilized and enlightened” people watch as their women and children are raped and murdered, these same people now cower and tremble in their living rooms while mobs of Muslim filth rampage in the streets, these same people scarcely whimper as precious resources are liquidated for the convenience and disposal of Muslim mobs, these same people watch as their law enforcement agencies make public statements that they are completely impotent and must abandon those who they have been appointed to protect, these same people listen as their politicians and judiciary blame the victims for the crimes committed by third-world animals, these same people watch as everything they hold dear, centuries in the making, is gleefully smeared with the excremental filth of Islam, and while all of that and so much more unfolds before their very eyes, they are mute, trembling, whimpering silence in the face of this treason, treachery and murderous anarchy is their only response. Yet remarkably, laughably, when a realist points out the obvious, when a lucid, rational and historically coherent realist points out the inevitable course of action that must be taken to stop the madness unfolding across the civilized world, these realists are condemned, by these same masochistic, self-loathing, suicidal White-Guilters, as “violent”, “extremist”, “right wing” and guilty of “inciting violence”.

    So ask yourselves a few uncomfortable questions.
    If the next boat of “migrants” that left Turkish shores provoked a military response from European countries that saw airstrikes on numerous cities like Istanbul and Antalya, obliterating mosques, government buildings and sites of historical significance, would this or would this not stem the flow of effluence from the Middle East and Africa?.

    If European patriots sabotaged government naval/coast guard vessels sinking the boats at their moorings and then went out in private vessels out to confront the “migrants” with weapons and explosives would this not send a clear message? During this confrontation migrant boats would be rammed and sunk with rubber rafts shot full of wholes. There would be a policy of leaving the migrants, women, children or otherwise to drown. This would result in a death-toll in the 1000’s. Would this, or would this not, through word of mouth and Marxist media spreading like wildfire, stem the flow of effluence from the Middle East and Africa?.

    If Muslim owned businesses, mosques, Muslim gathering/social centers and schools were torched would this not send a message to the invasive, violent Muslim?

    If all Muslim No-Go-Zones were attacked with dozens of Muslim dwellings set ablaze in the middle of the night, understanding the carnage that would result, would that action not send a very clear message and contribute to stemming the flow of effluence from the Middle East and Africa?

    If Muslims wearing weaponized clothing like hijabs, niqabs, dishdashas, Salafist beards and Islamic skullcaps, were simply assassinated on the streets, in schools, in businesses or public areas, assassinated in the 1000’s, would these actions not send a very clear message and contribute to stemming the flow of effluence from the Middle East and Africa?

    If Muslims gathering on European streets, blocking those streets or not, while engaging in public prayer, are attacked and killed in the hundreds, with no mercy shown for the wounded or dying, would these actions not send a very clear message and contribute to stemming the flow of effluence from the Middle East and Africa?

    I could continue to pose questions like the ones above but we all know the answers to these questions. Yet in spite of knowing full well what must be done, we ignore our responsibilities, we ignore reality in the hopes that this madness will somehow all magically fix itself one day.

    The reality is that this will not fix itself and unless we rise in our own defence, and rise soon, we will be complete slaves to Muslim filth or we will be dead. As to which, the Muslim is not particular.

    The acts of blocking borders and harassing Greeks and Europeans with requests for identification are clearly acts of war. The response to these acts of war must be a response that leave the aggressors largely dead with those that remain alive fleeing back across the ocean for their very lives.

    The thought of hundreds and thousands of rotting corpses of men, women and children floating in the ocean while sharks dine to their hearts content is an unpleasant one at best. But this is war.

    The thought of Muslims trapped in their burning residences and buildings is an unpleasant one at best. But this is war.

    The thought of Muslims walking down European streets and being assassinated in the thousands is an unpleasant one at best. But this is war.

    The thought of rounding up hundreds of thousands, or millions of Muslims, stripping them of all assets, cataloguing them, loading them on ships and, upon pain of death for non-cooperation, sending them back to the Middle East and Africa is an unpleasant one at best. But this is war.

    Or perhaps, bridled and blistered, made uncomfortable by my interrogatory, you have a better idea?

    Perhaps you prefer, as opposed to the images of war above, to see your families, your loved ones and your countrymen raped, robbed, savaged and slaughtered en masse by Muslim and African filth. Would the annihilation of your own kind and the entirety of the Western world be more to your liking? Would your loved ones found dead at the hands of third-world animals assuage your grotesque White-Guilt?

    These are the choices that must be made in the face of what is clearly a campaign of war being conducted to annihilate the West.

    As you do or do not resolve to make these choices I want you to never, ever, ever forget the Marxist media personalities, politicians, bureaucrats, judiciary and law enforcement whose cowardice and political sentiments are responsible for much of what we are currently face. Never let this treason fade away. Ever.

    Like I suggested earlier, perhaps you are bridled and blistered, made uncomfortable by my interrogatory and speculations and as such you have a better idea?

    Well, don’t keep silent, open your mouth and enlighten us all as to the mechanisms you would employ to halt the madness unfolding across Europe and the world at the hands of the Muslim.

    Well, I’m waiting……….I’m still waiting………..

    I thought so.

    Food for thought, catalyst for action

    Don Laird
    Alberta, Canada

  3. ‘And say besides that in Aleppo once,
    Where a malignant and a turbaned Turk
    Beat a Venetian and traduced the state,
    I took by the throat the damned heathen dog,
    And smote him, thus.’

    Some things really never change, do they Will?

  4. Hello there……its me again………Don Laird

    ……….”We knew the world would not be the same. Few people laughed, few people cried, most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty and to impress him takes on his multi-armed form and says, “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.” I suppose we all thought that, one way or another.”

    — Robert Oppenheimer, memories of Trinity.

    Lets begin…..

    Tonight I was doing what I have done since I can remember, what I will always do until I am done here on this earth; wandering.

    As strange as it may seem I enjoy wandering at night. To me there seems to be a sense of blindness and claustrophobia associated with daylight, a blindness and claustrophobia that gives way to euphoric clarity and liberation of the soul as day turns to night and, staring into the starry blackness, one steps to the edge of eternity.

    Tonight I was a little above the 8000 foot mark, high in the snow covered mountains. Just a sliver of moon lit my way as I sat in subzero temperatures, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, ears ringing with the thunderous silence, eyes cast toward obsidian hued heavens, quietly strained, quietly searching those same star strewn heavens for a little providential grace, just a whisper was all I wanted, I didn’t get what I wanted, I got what I needed; all I got was silence.

    I thought for awhile.

    Tonight, tonight I thought about happiness.

    I have been thinking a lot about happiness lately, about what true happiness really is, about how it is we who, having the same within our grasp, conspire to obscure it, plot to conceal it from ourselves, to destroy it, to make it elusive, when all the time it is there, at our fingertips, quietly waiting for each and every one of us.

    I think happiness, true happiness, is multi-faceted.

    True happiness begins with gratitude, simply a sense of gratitude, a genuine sense of gratitude for that which we have. To simply and honestly be grateful for all the good things in our lives, regardless of how small, regardless of how ordinary. I think that gratitude for what we have, that facet of happiness, is tempered, is made complete with an equal absence of longing for that which we don’t have and an understanding of the difference, of the wisdom to know the difference, between “want” and “need”. A part of knowing the difference between “want” and “need” is the ability to recognize that age old imposter of material wealth, the illusory wealth attached to material gain and possession and the inevitable vexation, loss and hollow pride that comes with the value we place on that illusion.

    Happiness, true happiness, becomes a fait accompli when you lose your fear of death, lose your fear of dying. Not to be confused with a loss of love of life, or a desire to accelerate one’s departure, loss of one’s fear of death is simply a liberation from that which nags us all, as if to worry about this inevitable conclusion to all life is to avoid the same. Simply, it is the acceptance of the end of a journey and while looking back over ones shoulder, to have little regret, then turning and looking to the future.

    I am reminded of something I wrote after my mother passed away. I hadn’t seen her in over 25 years and was informed of her death by telephone…….here’s an excerpt from my recollections in the weeks that followed her funeral…………I had returned from the BC coast, I was alone once again, alone in person and in thought, in the company of an excellent brandy I sat in a darkened room bathed in the light of a single candle, wreathed in wisps of Nag Champa, ‘neath the gaze of a sweetest moon as she climbed higher across a star strewn sky I thought and as I thought I traveled back across the decades holding an urn that contained fragments of bone and ashes, the earthly remains of my mother, and I wrote………..

    ………….”Now, many years later, Mum and I are at Union Station again but our places have changed. I am older and she is young again. The years and scars she carried at her death have fallen away. She is long and lean, her dark hair cascades down over her shoulders and she is smiling with sparkling eyes. She kisses me on the cheek and brushes the hair from my forehead. She turns and walks away and for the first time in many years there is strength and purpose in her step. I call after her, “Mum!” she stops and looks back. “Wait!” I yell….I want to give her something for the journey but I have nothing so I shout “I love you Mum”…..she nods and smiles again. It is a smile of such love and radiance that I want to move towards her but am unable to. She waves then turns away and I watch her slowly fade into the distance. I am unable to join her as I have much to do and a lot of life yet to live. I have no regrets and bear no anger towards her and trust that she is well looked after. I am saddened by her passing and yet I have learned many lessons through the same. I think of her life and those difficult times. I wonder if she did all she was required to. I wonder if she let go without regret. The answers I am without are not ones without which I am troubled; I have my faith that all is well and going as planned……….

    -excerpt, “Time and Distance”, Don Laird

    Moving on…..

    I wish I hadn’t seen all that I have seen while pushing back against Islam………..I will never be the same, many of us will never be the same.

    I wish I hadn’t heard all that I have heard while pushing back against Islam…….I will never be the same, many of us will never be the same.

    My sincerest wish is that all of our efforts in this fight against Islam, against the cancer of Mankind, each and every one of us, all we have lost, all we’ve become, all that we now are, that all of that, every single shining moment of time, every bead of sweat, every sleepless night, every hour of witness vigil, every friend and family, those long since gone, those that drifted away, every innocence lost, every tirade cast toward the heavens, the sacred and profane…….every humble whispered thanks for providential grace, prayerful, head bowed in an hour of silent darkness…….that that, that all of that not be lost ‘neath the bootheel of ingratitude and indifference of the generations that will, as surely as the sun rises and sets, follow us.

    I am reminded of an opening paragraph of an essay I rattled out one day…… was called “Traitors Among Us”

    …“I am in the fight.

    I am in the midst of the manifest lunacy of a 7th century murdering psychopath.

    I am with privilege, the privilege of generals and politicians, the privilege of being out of range.

    I watch hundreds of videos.

    I watch as the collection of the blackest lies ever told is raised high and called “the word of Allah”.

    I watch as dusky hued barbarians and savages scream their bloodlust oath of allegiance to a murdering coward. I watch as they, craftsmen in the art of death, ply their trade in every corner of this earth.

    I watch the bullets stir the cranial contents of the terrified and the innocent. I watch as blistered, fevered lips whisper words of desperate last moment prayers to the God they are soon to meet. I watch as the throats are cut and the arterial spray glistens in the sunlight. I watch the terrified eyes glaze over, the head comes away from the body of the innocent victim.
    The suicide-vest; a cowards political statement, favoured tool of the mullah and Imam, an unsophisticated mechanism of extortive leverage, the accoutrements of the lonely, the unloved, the dull-witted, the easily impressed, the barking mad, I watch as it detonates in a blinding flash of light and shower of razor sharp glass and shrapnel, as peace and quiet become chaos and death, multitudes borne away on rivers of blood and despair.

    Once again they see what should never be seen, once again they hear what should never be heard, heads cast downward I watch as tears of shame and anguish course down bruised cheeks, as nervous fingers fumble with handkerchiefs whilst those moments of agony, flooding back, torrential, tormenting, are relived once again, once again as the raped and the savaged tell their horrific stories of utter degradation, of humiliation and loss.

    I listen to the cries of orphans and widows as they beg us, beseech us not to turn away, not to abandon them, and I am moved. As my eyes fill with their anguish, my ears with their cries, I can smell the blood, I nearly wretch and choke at the stench of the rotting flesh; I am with them. Yet I am impotent in the face of their need, in the face of their loss, my hypocrisy, my betrayal, my cowardice knows no bounds. I stand on the edge of an abyss of madness, blackest despair my sweetest companion, my solitary companion, and my soul slowly slips away, all I have left is my pen and my paper.”……..

    -excerpt, Traitors Among Us
    -Don Laird

    So tonight, as with some rare nights, I have a little more than my pen and paper, just a little more, just enough.

    Tonight, I am thinking of all of you, each and every one of you and wishing, hoping, hope piled on hope that you can see the end of this fight, and if you can or if you can’t, that you are filled with a sense of promise and of peace and an understanding that you are not alone and that not only are you not alone but that you are part of a grand design.

    I am reminded of a wise man’s words……….

    ……”When doubts haunt me and disappointments stare me in the face and I see not one ray of hope on the horizon, I turn to the Bhagavad Gita and find a verse to comfort me; I immediately begin to smile in the midst of overwhelming sorrow”…

    – Mahatma Gandhi

    And where there is one wise man, one finds yet another and his words……

    ……”We live in a world of transgressions and selfishness, and no pictures that represent us as otherwise can be true, though happily, for human nature, gleamings of that pure spirit in whose likeness man has been fashioned, are to be seen relieving its deformities, and mitigating if not excusing its crimes.”

    – James Fenimore Cooper, “The Deerslayer”, the very last paragraph.

    As for me,

    Here is a prayerful paragraph of thanks I cobbled together one day, or one night, I don’t recall which…..

    …..Father, my Lord and Source, hear my prayer, as unto others, so unto me, for as it is written, so shall it be, ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find, stillness of heart and peace of mind. Amen……..


    I am nibbling on dark chocolate filled with roasted almonds and cranberries and sipping a very delicious Canadian Imperial Stout.

    So to each and every one of you; a little chocolate, a little beer, a little understanding and a little peace.

    And I am listening to this……………

    Sincerely, Don Laird
    Alberta, Canada

  5. From that same book:

    In 1867, Mark Twain toured the Holy Land. This is how he described the land:

    “There is not a solitary village throughout its whole extent – not for thirty miles in either direction. There are two or three small clusters of Bedouin tents, but not a single permanent habitation. One may ride ten miles, hereabouts, and not see ten human beings. … We had left Capernaum behind us. It was only a shapeless ruin. These unpeopled deserts, these rusty mounds of barrenness … A desolate country whose soil is rich enough but is given over wholly to weeds. A silent, mournful expanse… the country is infested with fierce Bedouins, whose sole happiness it is, in this life, to cut and stab and mangle and murder unoffending Christians.”

    Just more proof that “palestine” and “palestinians” didn’t exist!

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