Last week we were treated to a letter to the editor of this
newspaper which listed a number of evil acts committed by people
who happen to be Muslim on Americans in the past 10 years, coupled
with an expression of righteous outrage that the U. S. Postal
Service has seen fit to issue a commemorative stamp memorializing a
Muslim holiday as it has done for holidays of other major
religions.
Last week we were treated to a letter to the editor of this newspaper which listed a number of evil acts committed by people who happen to be Muslim on Americans in the past 10 years, coupled with an expression of righteous outrage that the U. S. Postal Service has seen fit to issue a commemorative stamp memorializing a Muslim holiday as it has done for holidays of other major religions. It called on all “patriotic Americans” to boycott this offending stamp to honor the victims of the aforementioned evil acts. As an expression of exuberantly unabashed religious intolerance it would make the average Spanish Inquisitor blush with pride.
In the letter-writer, as in numerous others lately who have been sufficiently imprudent to make us all aware of their thought processes, methinks I see an example of the Painless Patriot. “Yes, I’m patriotic as all hell; I bleed red, white and blue. I have a patriotic bumper sticker and everything, and I’m anxious to do patriotic things that don’t involve any actual sacrifice or impinge on the convenience of my lifestyle.”
Boycott a postage stamp. Not quite crossing the Delaware, but I’m sure the Founding Fathers would be just as proud. In fact, if they were around today they’d probably change the language in the Declaration of Independence from “we pledge our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor” to “we pledge not to buy certain stamps.” Make a terrific painting for the National Gallery, wouldn’t it? Washington and Jefferson and Tom Paine all standing at the post office counter: “Ooh, give me 20 of the Jazz Masters and a sheet of those with the adorable puppies, but don’t give me any of those yucky Muslim ones. We’re patriots, you know, like you couldn’t tell from the clothes.” Great moments in history.
Cut to the quick and put in their place as I’m sure those Muslims are by the mighty juggernaut of the impending stamp boycott, I imagine any thoughts they might be entertaining of mass suicide in the face of this postal comeuppance are adequately assuaged by the receipt of all that money the letter-writer gives them every time she fills up her gas tank. For as we all know, Keith Richards was never as addicted to heroin as we Americans are to oil, and the world’s largest producer of it is Saudi Arabia, the very birthplace and current stronghold of the religion she loves to hate. I would be willing to bet that the average Saudi, like all sane people, is a little more interested in whether or not they’re going to get somebody’s money than they are in that person’s choice of stamp designs. Like it or not (I personally consider it proof that the Cosmos has a bent sense of humor) it is an undeniable geologic fact that oil seems to rest most comfortably beneath Muslims, and until we train our SUVs to run on something we have more than enough of here at home such as talk show hosts or Indian casinos we have to accept the consequences of our dependency.
Not to belittle the stamp thing; choosing a really appropriate commemorative is important, too. I mean, you wouldn’t want the accounts receivable department at PG&E to decide you’re a suspicious character with possible antisocial tendencies because your payment envelope has some kind of lame stamp on it. You can’t be too careful these days.
So if by chance you share the letter-writer’s position that an American’s patriotic bigotry should manifest itself through boycotts, the place to avoid is not the post office, it’s the gas station. If you really want to blame 900 million Muslims for the atrocities of Hamas and Al Qaida and engage in practical patriotism, buy yourself a really good pair of shoes and get used to walking.
Everywhere. Otherwise, are you really saying anything at all?
