Thursday, October 05, 2006

How Mohammed Found Enlightenment

“Wine makes a man more pleased with himself;
I do not say it makes him more pleasing to others.
—Samuel Johnson

Above is a depiction of either a young Foster Brooks, or an aging Mohammed.

He happened to be passng the hashish smokers’ den when an overpowering thirst and urge to partake of the grape assaulted him.

“I've already written the Quran,” he thought, “I got nothing else to do.”

He was tired of walking the straight and narrow. Tired of preaching that it was the Islamist’s duty to kill the infidels. Tired of preaching that people should not drink alcohol, eat pork chops or help one's wife cook, clean or take care of the baby. For the life of him, he couldn't remember why he had ever thought of those things as bad. No, in one moment of weakness, he gave in to the urge, and got shit-faced.

When he awoke the next morning in the gutter, awash with the former contents of his stomach, he was distraught at ever having had such a lapse of character. He decided that no one should ever be forced to go through what he was experiencing.

A young woman on her way to the well to draw water saw him lying there, picked him up and took him home. She made him a breakfast of sausage, bacon and eggs. She looked deep into his eyes. She said she loved him. She put him in a pit. He was there until he died. Screaming.

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