Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab apparently tried to blow up an airplane he was on as it landed at Detroit. All he managed to do was burn his legs, and then the passengers jumped him, and now he’s in prison forever. At least that’s my prediction. No matter what comes out eventually about Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab’s motives and beliefs, because he wasn’t the goon of an acceptable corporation—sovereign or otherwise—I’m guessing he’s behind bars for good. If he had tried doing something equally heinous for the feds, Hillary Clinton would be trying to arrange for his release. He’d be a hero, having bravely risked his life for his government.
Every time our courageous defenders of freedom shoot and miss, they do what Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab did—try to kill somebody and fail.
Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab spent some time in London, so I suppose the U.S. will bomb London now. These colors still don’t run. I’m guessing that’s what’ll happen, except to Yemen.
Writing for the Huffington Post, Jon Gambrell says, “Devoutly religious, he was nicknamed “The Pope” because of his saintly aura and gave few clues in his youth that he would turn radical, friends and family said.” A saintly aura is radical.
An old story—“A man bumped into another on the street and both fell, belongings scattered about. The man berated the other man’s clumsiness until he realized that it was an elderly blind man, who was apparently injured. The man’s heart went out to the blind man and he begged his forgiveness and cared for him.” The only thing that changed was the man’s perception, the ideas in his own personal head.
I’d like to see Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab get a break. I was clueless at 23. Totally. So were you. I hadn’t been married even the first time, but at least I was getting laid. Poor Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab sounds too pious and repressed for that. No wonder he went off. At a certain time of in the life of a heterosexual man, masturbation or marriage is necessary for mental health.
Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab is a somewhat sheltered and very young man, nervous, fearful, depressed, and conflicted—he put it off as long as he could; the plane was landing, for Pete’s sake. Now he’s in jail and his legs hurt. He’s learned his lesson. Suppose that after hours of screwing up his courage to face his own death, when he finally made his move, he was sobbing. Suppose he were your child.