Sunday, March 12, 2006
The Independent's story is an interesting tour of the history of medieval Muslim science. We learn that Muslims invented the bank check ("In the 9th century, a Muslim businessman could cash a cheque in China drawn on his bank in Baghdad"), the windmill, the fountain pen, and the brewing of coffee. On closer reading, however, The Independent's coverage is damnation by faint praise.
Of the twenty putative inventions that "changed the world," all but one occurred during the Middle Ages, from roughly the 9th to the 11th centuries (Western calendar). The only "invention" that is even arguably modern is "shampoo," which was "introduced to England by a Muslim who opened Mahomed's Indian Vapour Baths on Brighton seafront in 1759 and was appointed Shampooing Surgeon to Kings George IV and William IV." And 1759 is not the date of the invention of shampoo, but its introduction in England, which surely says more about the English than Muslim ingenuity.
There is a reason for the great antiquity of the Muslim inventions that "changed the world." The umma persecuted its own Thomas Aquinas.
His name was Ibn Rushd Averroes, an Andalusan Arab who translated Aristotle and proposed the compatibility of Aristotelian philosophy, the foundation of Western scientific achievement, and Islam. The bland Wikipedia summary only hints at the fate of Islamic science:
His most important original philosophical work was The Incoherence of the Incoherence (Tahafut al-tahafut), in which he defended Aristotelian philosophy against al-Ghazali's claims in The Incoherence of the Philosophers (Tahafut al-falasifa), himself arguing against the earlier Aristotelian, Avicenna, that it was self-contradictory and an affront to the teachings of Islam.
With the wave of fanaticism that swept Al Andalus at the end of the 12th century following the Almohads conquest, his high connections could not preserve him from political trouble and he was banished to an isolated place near Cordoba and closely monitored until shortly before his death (in Morocco). Many of his works in logic and metaphysics have been permanently lost in the ensuing censorship. (embedded links omitted, bold emphasis added)
Oriana Fallaci offers spicier fare, but truer:
Islam has always persecuted and silenced its intelligent men. I remind you of Averroes who for his distinction between Faith and Reason was accused of heterodoxy by the caliphs and forced to flee. Then, imprisoned like a criminal. Then, confined to his home and humiliated to such a degree that when rehabilitated he no longer had any desire to live and died within a few months. Not without good reason, in his famous lecture held in 1883 at the Sorbonne, Ernest Renan said that attributed the merits of Averroes to Islam would be like attributing the merits of Galileo to the Inquisition.
Indeed, Averroes work so singularly informed Thomas Aquinas that Aquinas referred to Averroes as "The Commentator" in discussions of Aristotle, whom he reverred as "The Philosopher."
The dirty little secret of the Renaissance is that it and all that followed might not have happened without Muslim scholars such as Averroes. The much dirtier secret of Islam is that it never learned to reconcile faith and reason. It persecuted its geniuses. Christianity did too, but the Inquisition was a losing rearguard action against the Age of Reason, which had already been ratified by Saint Thomas Aquinas and other theologians. Islam's own inquisition persists to this day.
This brings us back to The Independent's conception of Islamic inventiveness. Along with shampoo, bank drafts, the three-course meal, the pointed arch, gardens as places of "beauty and meditation," surgical instruments, early discoveries about human anatomy, and the transmission to the West of various inventions from points east -- virtually all of which happened roughly a thousand years ago -- The Independent might have mentioned, but did not, the recovery and translation of the great works of Greek antiquity. Without them, the West might not have risen to the cultural, scientific and military pre-eminance it has enjoyed for more than 400 years.
Did The Independent omit Ibn Rushd Averroes' critical contributions because it agreed with Renan -- that attributing "the merits of Averroes to Islam would be like attributing the merits of Galileo to the Inquisition" -- or because his story and his fate are so devestating to the point that The Independent is laboring to make: that Islam has nothing to do with the scientific, cultural, economic and political poverty of the Arab and Muslim world?1
1. In fairness, The Independent's story is hardly original journalism. It is undoubtedly recut from a press package put out by the "1001 Inventions" touring exhibition. It is equally interesting, though, that a search of the exhibition's web site discloses not a single mention of Averroes.
Sent your post off to Robert Godwin of OneCosmos and received this reply:
You know what Petey always says--the Muslims discovered zero over a
thousand years ago, and they've been discovering it ever since
Click here: One Cosmos
And in the event your readers may have missed Dinocrat's posts
on Muslim patents in the modern world and also on Art and Science
I am including the links to original posts:
This is a recent update with link to expansive post on patents in the world:
UPDATE II We have added data from China, India and Japan in another piece above. Our thesis remains unchanged. Final score: Infidels 250,000, Umma 20.
Click here: Dinocrat » Blog Archive » How does the modern world look when you have done nothing to help create it, and innovat
Click here: Dinocrat » Blog Archive » Notes for a piece on Art and Science as metaphors
"The Independent might have mentioned, but did not, the recovery and translation of the great works of Greek antiquity. Without them, the West might not have risen to the cultural, scientific and military pre-eminance it has enjoyed for more than 400 years."
Actually, a great many of Greek Manuscripts came to Italy from Byzantium, no thanks to the Muslims.
While it is true that Greek copies of Ancient Greek works came to Italy from the Eastern Roman Empire (Byzantium), that was in the 15th century when Muslims captured Constantinople and scholars fled.
It was important that Aquinas had Latin copies of Arabic copies of Aristotle’s work in the 13th century. And it is important that he had Averroes’ and Maimonidies’ commentaries on Aristotle. They made advances in understanding Aristotle. Of course, Muslims never benefited from such advances as TH points out. Aquinas was part of an Aristotle revival. But he not only cheered Aristotle; he made Aristotle an important part of the education of Christians in the West. In the Eastern Roman Empire, Aristotle was only an esoteric study or at best limited to scientific matters. Aquinas advanced the appreciation of Aristotle and put him in the center of Scholastic learning.
Overall, TH gets it right. Too few people are aware of this important piece of history.
Averroes isn't the only inconvenient fact The Independent chooses to ignore:
"The first royal pleasure gardens in Europe were opened in 11th-century Muslim Spain."
Not. Try Pliny the Younger's 1st-century villa gardens for starters.
Not to mention Hadrian's Villa, fergossake.
Of the 20 inventions virtually none stand up even to cursory inspection- almost all of these so-called inventions were not Islamic at all. Here are the details-
Chess was 'invented' in Persia allright, but it dates as far back as 3000 BC! Scriptures found relate to the master of chess Shah Ardashir from early 200s AD. That's WAY before any "Muslim" influence could have been attributed to it.
I have a hard time figuring out what the Independent is trying to accomplish?! Are they trying to show us the beauty of islam? then they are insane and incorrect! In reality i think it's an attempt to show that "arabs are humans too" - which with i don't disagree one bit.
DON'T MAKE THE MISTAKE LIKE THE INDEPENDENT AND CONFUSE ARABS WITH MUSLIMS
The article states that the Arabs invented the camera obsucra tracing the word camera to an Arabic word "camara" meaning dark room.
The American Heritage Dictionary traces the word camera to Latin which borrowed it from a Greek word Kamara meaning room.
So who is right.
I'll put my money on the dictionary.
Any one know for sure?
Here is the original paragraph on "Camera obscura" in the Independent article:
"2 The ancient Greeks thought our eyes emitted rays, like a laser, which enabled us to see. The first person to realise that light enters the eye, rather than leaving it, was the 10th-century Muslim mathematician, astronomer and physicist Ibn al-Haitham. He invented the first pin-hole camera after noticing the way light came through a hole in window shutters. The smaller the hole, the better the picture, he worked out, and set up the first Camera Obscura (from the Arab word qamara for a dark or private room). He is also credited with being the first man to shift physics from a philosophical activity to an experimental one."
I just checked the OED and indeed they list the origin of the word camera as originating in the ancient Greek language.
They article may have gotten the other facts right but I would not take their word for it.
The claim that the midieval arabs invented robotics is absurd on the face of it.
I've been doing a brief debunking of my own, too.
I even included a quote Homer on Calypso's garden.
Wow, as if we needed a museum to remind us that The World's Losers have little to offer the world except terrorism, violance, and, oh yeah, the oil that we westerners gave value to, discovered, and taught them to pull out of the ground.
But I did learn one new fact here! The Persians were quite inventive before the darkness of the crap religion descended upon them.
Lost Verses of the Koran
Surah 115: The Pig
The hurried flight of the Hegira had led the Muslims to a fertile oasis, where they were at last safe from their many enemies in Mecca.
Pausing, each thanked Allah the moon-god for their good fortune.
Assembling at a long table, they enjoyed rare delicacies brought by bare-breasted sirens whose faces were veiled. During the feast Muhammad sternly forbade his disciples to partake of pig flesh, while fondling the youthful breasts of a Nubian girl named Sheba.
Obeying the Prophet, the pilgrims partook of the succulent flesh of jackals and vultures, washing their food down with strong wine.
“I never dreamed I’d have to eat the loins of a jackal, let alone the bitter entrails of a cursed vulture,” observed a hungry pilgrim named Ahmed to a fellow Muslim, choking on the unpalatable morsels.
“Neither did I, but the Holy Prophet has ordered it,” grumbled another starving follower, almost heaving as he consumed greasy vulture flesh.
“A rancid pork chop would taste a hell of a lot better than this crap does,” retorted Ahmed.
“It’s an acquired taste brother, you’ll get used to it,” spoke up another, smiling with a mouthful of rotten teeth.
“I don’t think so,” replied Ahmed, forcing down a burned jackal testicle.
An uncaring Muhammad, famished, greedily wolfed down roasted jackal in enjoyment, quaffing from an earthenware wine carafe on occasion, while choosing which of the sirens that would soon endure his favors.
The meal finished in the late afternoon, a drunken, lustful Muhammad initiated a sex orgy with the sirens, the debauched Holy Prophet, Allah speaking through him, declaring all earlier betrothals or marriages of the women he knew null and void.
The Muslims celebrated their good fortune, again thanking Allah for the bounty they had been blessed to receive.
Later, as Muhammad sat half-naked under a palm tree, masturbating to the thought of molesting little girls, Ahmed chanced by and remarked, "Oh great prophet, why does Allah say that we cannot dine on delicious porcine flesh?"
"Why?" asked Muhammad blithely, closing his filthy, tattered, moth-eaten robe, "Because Allah's younger retarded cyclops brother is a pig, and Allah doesn't want us killing his holy kinfolk."
"Allah is a pig?" asked an incredulous Ahmed, staring at Muhammad.
"Of course," replied the deranged Prophet Muhammad, hallucinating thanks to ingesting strong hashish minutes earlier.
"That's ridiculous, why in hell do we worship pigs?" asked Ahmed sharply, thinking his flight from Mecca may have been the result of heeding the words of a false prophet, possessed of a capricious desert demon who delighted in seeing them consume the flesh of vermin.
"Because they're better than we are," answered a smiling Muhammad, now fantasizing about raping little boys, "Look at me, I'm little more than a lecherous child molester, thief and murderer!"
"True, but pigs can't even talk!" exclaimed a sardonic Ahmed, digging a heel into the sand.
"Allah can, he speaks to me in my dreams," retorted the wildly hallucinating Muhammad, barely able to focus on Ahmed, seeing him in double vision.
"You're a madman Muhammad," declared a disgusted Ahmed, "I'm heading back to join the infidels in Mecca!"
"Who cares?" retorted Muhammad, slurring his words and breaking into riotous laughter.
Prophet Muhammad, opening his robe and again reaching for his flaccid sex organ, was too occupied with masturbating his building erection to reply further, while Ahmed, shaking his head in disbelief, disappeared behind a sand dune.
"What a stupid, perverted, licentious bastard," spat Ahmed, walking off, adding, "Muhammad is crazier than a shithouse rat!"
Surah 116: The Pervert
And it came to pass that Prophet Muhammad was growing ever hornier and more depraved: In a dream it was revealed by Allah that he was to molest a young girl named Ayesha.
Drunk on strong wine, the Prophet looked to a follower named Khalil and announced, “Allah has said I am to have sex on this day with a child; the virgin daughter of my brother in law Abu.”
“What?” asked a frowning, incredulous Khalil, holding a wine bottle, taken back by the remark and turning to Muhammad.
“I am to know Abu’s daughter Ayesha,” declared Muhammad, a finger in the air, becoming visibly aroused at the thought having sex with her.
“She is but a little girl who plays with dolls; her womb does not yet weep, are you insane?” asked Khalil, knowing in his heart that the Prophet was little more than a pervert, thief, liar and murderer.
“Probably, but it is the will of Allah”, a chuckling Muhammad stated to himself, staggering off to the hovel of Ayesha.
“What a twisted devil the Prophet is – the will of Allah my ass, he’s just an evil, depraved monster who lusts after the flesh,” Khalil mumbled disgustedly, putting the bottle to his parched lips.
An oblivious and uncaring Muhammad blundered down the street, weaving as he went, arriving at the hovel shortly thereafter.
Knocking on the door, Ayesha’s mother Umm appeared.
“What do you want Prophet?” she asked with disdain, staring at the debauched Muhammad, clad in a filthy tan robe covered in dust and wine stains, a lone flea crawling upon his moustache near his nostrils.
“Bismillah, I am here to take your daughter Ayesha in bed,” the Prophet answered bluntly, slurring his words.
“You licentious beast!” exclaimed the girl’s mother, “She is only six years old, if it is indeed the will of Allah, take me instead to satisfy your wanton depravity!”
“Taking you is not the will of Allah,” retorted a smiling Muhammad, the scent of wine heavy on his foul breath, “You are a wrinkled and faded flower without comeliness; be gone with your favors; I could never get a hard on at the likes of you.”
Enraged by her rebuff, Muhammad smote her upon the face with a backhand.
“That is what one gets for disobeying the will of Allah,” declared Muhammad, his words punctuated by a loud belch, “Take me to Ayesha, that I may know her on this day!”
Obeying, Umm reluctantly led Muhammad to the room of Ayesha, opening the door.
“This perverted Prophet here wants to screw you,” announced Umm with a frown, Muhammad ogling the virgin child in double vision.
“But you knew my cousin Abdullah, younger brother of Ahmed not an hour ago,” replied a shocked Ayesha, dropping her doll, revolted by the sight of the filthy, lascivious pedophile Muhammad.
“Be that as it may, Allah has said I will also know you,” answered Muhammad with an expectant smile, the gleam of lust in his eyes.
“Why me?” asked Ayesha, looking to the Prophet with trepidation.
“Because Allah has said it and I am horny, let us lay down, that I may know you,” ordered Muhammad blithely as he removed his robe, Ayesha’s mother shaking her head in helpless disgust and closing the door.
Surah 117: The Murderer
Muhammad and his followers enjoyed many days away from Mecca at the oasis, home of his oafish brother in law, Abu Bakr, who was also Muslim.
Dining on roast jackal, vultures and snakes, their strength was renewed by the bounty Allah the moon-god provided: plentiful food for their bellies and plentiful sirens for their carnal pleasure.
Khalil was upset that the Prophet was an evil lecherous pedophile who had known a little girl, so he went to the home of Ayesha to speak with her father, Abu the oaf.
He made his way to the hovel, and knocked on the door.
Ayesha’s mother opened the door, frowning as she beheld another of Prophet Muhammad’s followers.
“Is life not bad enough, what are you here for, to rape my daughter, me, or one of my sons?” she inquired with disdain.
“Indeed not woman, I must speak with your husband, not you,” replied Khalil sharply, who as a good Muslim, looked down upon women as little more than objects of pleasure, or dogs to be beaten into submission.
“My husband Abu is very drunk,” she related, lowering her gaze in respect for Khalil.
Khalil entering the hovel, the oaf Abu appeared from a side room holding a wine bottle, and slurred, “What do want here, follower of the Prophet?”
“I must speak with you regarding your little daughter Ayesha,” answered Khalil.
“What about her?” asked Abu, blinking his eyes and trying to focus on the man.
“The Prophet came unto her in her room a fortnight ago; do you not know?” asked Khalil bluntly.
“He has come unto her many times since, she is his wife,” replied the unconcerned oaf.
“His wife you say - you permitted it?” asked Khalil, stunned by the revelation.
“Of course; he has come unto one of my nephews too, Muhammad is a pederast, it is the will of Allah,” declared a shrugging Abu.
“He’s raping our child you drunken bastard!” exclaimed a tearful Umm, looking to Khalil.
Abu smote her across the face, admonishing, “Take care woman, speak not ill of Prophet Muhammad, it is the will of Allah. The Prophet first knew Ayesha in a dream, when Gabriel showed her to him, uncovering her body for him to see.”
“That is really sick, she’s only six years old,” observed Khalil, shaking his head.
“Better for the great Prophet to know her than one of the infidels,” declared a smiling Abu with arms in the air.
“Prophet my ass, Muhammad is a depraved monster possessed of a demon; how could permit such a thing, you are her father!” exclaimed Khalil in utter disgust.
“Yes I am, and the Prophet says I will know her too,” confessed Abu, contemplating the odd thought of having sex with his own daughter.
Umm burst into tears and sobbed, throwing herself to the floor upon hearing Abu’s repugnant words.
A fearful Khalil fled the hovel, not knowing what to think; realizing Muhammad and his brother in law Abu were licentious perverts and vicious rapers of children, possessed of capricious and malevolent demons.
Later, Abu spoke with the Prophet while they entered a brothel together. He told him of the strange encounter with Khalil.
Khalil’s an idiot, he takes Islam much too seriously,” replied a chuckling Muhammad, looking to his oafish brother in law.
“It is a bad omen Prophet, Khalil woefully disdains your marriage to Ayesha, and disdains that I am to know her too,” declared Abu, even he feeling deep down that such a liaison was distasteful, but knowing it was the unalterable will of Allah, the moon god.
“It is the will of Allah for you to know your daughter, did not Lot of Sodom know his daughters in the cave?” asked a slurring Muhammad, quite drunk, leaning against a wall to steady himself.
“Yes Prophet, he did,” answered Abu with firm resolve, nodding.
“Indeed, it was and is Allah’s will,” replied Muhammad confidently, picking a flea from his beard and crushing it between his fingernails, “As for our problem, I will have a dream tonight, and Allah will order me to kill Khalil.”
“He will?” asked Abu, putting a hand to his chin in confusion, “But I thought the Perfect, Most Merciful Pig Allah never revealed his intentions until you had a dream.”
“No matter oaf, he is making his will known to me by making me drink strong wine on this day,” corrected a quickly lying Muhammad, holding up a bottle.
“Don’t you drink strong wine everyday?” asked a sardonic Abu.
“Not as strong as this stuff,” replied the Prophet with a broad smile, “It has hashish oil in it; let us partake of a pair of this brothel’s women and enjoy wine together.”
As Muhammad and Abu descended into more revelry and debauchery, a troubled Khalil approached another of the Prophet’s followers, the one with rotten teeth. Telling him of his woes, he awaited the reply.
“Who cares what he does, have vulture and some wine,” declared the man, tearing a leg from a roasted, maggot-ridden carcass and offering it to Khalil.
“You don’t care that Muhammad is a deranged pervert who has sex with little children?” asked Khalil, taking the leg.
“Hell no, I’m only here for the food, I was starving in the alleys of Mecca before I met Muhammad,” replied the rotten toothed man, grabbing more vulture flesh and a wine bottle.
“Oh,” answered a defeated Khalil, taking a bite from the leg and reaching for wine.
Late evening came, with Khalil and the other followers drunk and passed out in their tent.
Muhammad and Abu awoke at the brothel after midnight, rested and refreshed.
“What are we to do about Khalil?” asked Abu as they left via a side door, avoiding an encounter with the brothel’s madam, to whom they owed money.
“Leave that to me oaf,” answered the Prophet blithely, holding up a hand, “In my dream Allah told me how to deal with him.”
Muhammad headed down the street and stealthily entered the tent of his followers, intent on taking Khalil’s life. Abu Bakr followed him through the entrance, looking about for possible witnesses.
Holding an oiled leather garrote, the smiling Prophet mercilessly strangled the sleeping Khalil, knowing in his heart that it was the will of Allah.
The helpless follower struggled defiantly as a determined Muhammad gritted his teeth and pulled the garrote tighter, crushing Khalil’s windpipe, the Prophet letting out foul gas from his posterior due to the exertion. The struggling ceased; he and Abu then quietly removed the body from the tent and carried it into the desert.
“That takes care of that problem,” declared a satisfied Muhammad as he pocketed the garrote, he and Abu making their way to his hovel so he could know his young wife Ayesha again.
“When will I know her Prophet?” inquired Abu in the lamplit hovel, looking to his daughter’s room.
“Very soon, Allah has said it, go know your wife Umm for now, oaf,” suggested Muhammad with a smile, opening the door to Ayesha’s room.
Surah 118: The Liar
Time passed, and a strengthened Muhammad and his followers left the fertile oasis. The Prophet was joined by his young wife Ayesha and her father, oaf Abu, who left the remainder of his family stranded at the oasis, his wife Umm dying of grief shortly afterward.
Not one of the party dared question the vanishing of Khalil, some fearing that they too would vanish, perhaps due to Allah’s will or worse.
Muhammad told his followers that Khalil was an evil infidel, and had fled because he had coveted Ayesha, the child looking to her husband the Prophet, she and her father knowing he was not telling the truth.
“That is not true my father, Khalil only came to tell you of the Prophet knowing me,” Ayesha whispered, she and Abu standing only a few cubits from Muhammad.
“Take care in what you utter among others child, some things are better kept to oneself,” answered Abu quietly, not half the oaf the Prophet thought he was.
The rotten-toothed man was listening intently; he had watched from the shadows while a smiling Muhammad strangled Khalil, but wisely kept this knowledge to himself, vowing to flee the group at the earliest opportunity.
Abu Bakr, fulfilling the will of Allah, came unto his daughter Ayesha over several evenings in a tent at the beckoning of the Holy Prophet, oddly finding her favors more satisfying than those of his wife.
Feeling strange from the experience of knowing his own daughter, a troubled Abu sought wise Muhammad’s advice.
“It was the will of Allah,” declared the debauched Muhammad, drunk on strong wine, “Allah has also revealed it is you which will sire her firstborn in her twelfth year; her incestuous bastard child Fatima.”
“I will?” asked Abu, incredulous that he would be siring a child by his own daughter.
“Yes,” replied the Prophet, removing his filthy robe, “But first I must satisfy my carnal urges, by indulging in her favors myself.”
Prophet Muhammad entered the tent and came unto the young Ayesha, who complained that she was sore from knowing her father three times in one day.
Striking her across the face, Muhammad admonished, “Keep your mouth shut wife and be thankful to Allah that only I and your father are knowing you.”
“Yes Holy Prophet,” Ayesha replied, closing her eyes and wincing in pain as Muhammad again knew her.
Arriving in Medina the following week, the Muslims found friends in this city, delighting in drunken revelry and the favors of veiled, tempting harlots with dark eyes.
A lecherous Muhammad, Ayesha and his brother in law Abu took up residence at a fine brothel, the Prophet and the oaf sampling the offerings over many weeks, finding that Medina had the finest of all harlots in the land.
Many residents of Medina found that Islam was a faith that appealed to them, Allah’s unalterable will moving the people, they abandoning their staid ways, joining with Prophet Muhammad in idleness, licentious revelry and drunkenness.
Abu later visited the Prophet in his tent, informing him of dreadful news that Medina was host to a band of Jews.
“Jews you say, the people of the book,” answered Muhammad, “They are bitter enemies of Allah and Islam; we will not suffer such people to live in our midst.”
“But there are 40 score or more of them in the city Prophet, do the warriors of Allah have the numbers to defeat them?” asked Abu.
“Of course oaf,” declared the evil Muhammad, “We shall wait until the dark of night, prowling by stealth, and then cut their throats as they slumber; Allah has willed it.”
Listening in the shadows, the rotten-toothed man determined it was time for him to flee. Regardless of the free food, he wanted no part of a group of vicious, skulking cowards who would slaughter people as they slept.
Allah’s will was fulfilled on the next night, 40 score Jews meeting their end at the hands of the deranged, murderous pedophile Muhammad and his obedient Muslims.
Surah 119: The Thief
A fortnight passed, with many of the remaining people of Medina embracing Islam, and others fleeing for their lives, with the exception of a wealthy merchant named Sabri and his family.
Sabri vexed the followers with his words that Prophet Muhammad was little more than a drunken liar, murderer, and wanton sexual pervert; a lascivious monster and pedophile who kept the company of prostitutes, drunks and the slothful.
In another dream, the Holy Prophet learned that the vexing merchant had to be silenced, and that he had been chosen by Allah to murder him.
Telling Abu of his dream, he and Abu plotted the murder of Sabri the merchant. After enjoying strong wine together, they headed to his home on a dark late evening, let in by a lovely servant girl.
Muhammad and the oaf Abu observed the opulence of his residence; Sabri dressed in a fine silk robe with a silk turban, seven rings of gold and silver on his fingers.
His wife and the lovely servant girl brought food and a carafe of diluted wine for her husband, they disdainfully looking upon the filthy, debauched Prophet and his henchman Abu.
“Why will you not submit to Islam, it is the will of Allah,” declared the evil Muhammad, looking to Sabri, looking for the chance to end his life.
“The will of Allah my ass, you Muhammad are a murderous debauched lecher and raper of children. Your loathsome followers feed on the rancid flesh of vermin instead of fine pork roasts, and defile all that they touch,” declared a disgusted Sabri, noting that the Prophet was drunk, dressed in a filthy tattered robe, with his unkempt hair and long beard matted with dirt.
“I consume the flesh of vermin too, Great Allah is a Holy, Merciful Pig, it is not halal to dine on the sacred flesh of his younger brothers,” declared Muhammad with a finger in the air, Abu nodding in agreement.
“No, it is you who are a pig, you deranged cretin possessed of a vile demon,” retorted Sabri angrily, looking upon the Prophet with hatred in his eyes.
“Those who do not submit to the will of Allah will suffer dire consequences,” threatened Abu, looking about for anyone who would dare stop them. Observing only two women in the house, he smiled, knowing that the will of Allah was about to be fulfilled.
Sabri paused, staring at the Prophet and Abu in contempt, hoping he could in some way persuade them to leave the city, noting that business had fallen off to practically nothing since the arrival of the Muslims.
“Look, if I give you money, will you and yours flee Medina and never return?” asked Sabri with folded hands, hoping he could encourage them to leave with a payment of fine gold.
“I can’t leave,” declared a smiling Muhammad, “I am serving Great Allah, the Most Merciful Pig.”
Sabri, confused for a moment, replied, “But I thought Allah was the moon goddess of Mecca.”
“Whatever,” retorted a shrugging, uncaring Muhammad while picking his nose, he knowing that Allah didn’t exist anyway.
“You are destroying Medina with your vile harlotry and wicked ways!” exclaimed Sabri.
The Prophet laughed, and replied, “Indeed not, Allah is guiding my hand in this and all my actions, providing me and my followers with what we desire: food, fine drink and the company of willing sirens, like your lovely servant girl back there.”
“My servant girl is betrothed to a good man in Mecca, you will not speak ill of her, nor will you covet her favors,” declared Sabri, noting Muhammad leering through an open door, ogling the girl and his wife.
“I will do as I wish,” retorted the evil Muhammad with another laugh, reaching into his tattered, filthy robe and producing the garrote, “I covet the favors of your servant girl, and will take her to my bed for a concubine on this night. Those such as you will not stop the will of Allah or his Messenger.”
Abu rose while the Prophet was speaking and smote Sabri upon the face with a closed fist, knocking the silk turban from his head. Muhammad descended upon him like a viper, pulling the garrote tightly around his throat, strangling him in his chair while his wife and servant girl screamed.
“Be silent women, it is the will of Allah!” Muhammad yelled through gritted teeth as he took the life of Sabri. Oaf Abu moved into the room and beat them into submission while a struggling Sabri kicked the wine carafe from the table, it shattering on the floor.
Sabri’s life vanquished, Prophet Muhammad exhaled loudly and let the lifeless body tumble to the floor.
The trembling women remained silent as Abu returned to the Prophet with them.
“Where is your money?” asked a greedy Abu of Sabri’s wife.
“A box of gold and silver is in our bedroom,” answered his tearful wife, almost fainting from Abu’s foul breath.
“I’ll get it,” volunteered a smiling Muhammad, pulling the garrote from the body, “Get the rings from his fingers oaf.”
The Prophet returned with a box of glittering coins, pleased that Allah had provided such bounty for his followers.
“I can’t get the last ring off,” complained Abu, having pocketed six others.
“Cut off his finger to get it, and take his robe and turban too,” ordered Muhammad, determined not to leave one valuable item in the house.
Abu obeyed, reaching for a knife on the table, slicing off the finger and pulling the ring from it.
Arriving at the brothel, the Prophet celebrated his good fortune by knowing Sabri’s wife and the servant girl, annulling the widow’s marriage and the girl’s betrothal in the eyes of Allah.
Later that evening Abu was given Sabri’s widow for a concubine, as he had grown weary of Ayesha’s favors, also needing an able slave to cook and serve him.
Having to beat her before he knew her, Abu thanked Allah and Muhammad for the welcome gift of Sabri’s wife.
Surah 120: The Hypocrite
More time passed, with some of Muhammad’s followers finding the Prophet’s actions in Medina going against everything he had preached in Mecca, seeing him as Khalil, the rotten toothed man, and the merchant Sabri had seen him: an evil, debauched rapist, pedophile, liar, and murderer.
These and other apostate followers were quickly slaughtered as infidels, fulfilling the will of Allah; a smiling Muhammad strangling many of them as they slept.
Even Abu began to think that Muhammad’s wanton depravity might have been going too far when he encountered him in a tent knowing several young Jewish boys that had been taken captive.
“Prophet, some of the followers are complaining that you are denying them participation in the bounty given us by Allah, and that you are also practicing strange acts that Allah has forbidden to others,” related Abu, frowning at the displeasing thought of Muhammad knowing little boys.
“They want some of the gold, right oaf?” asked a drunken Muhammad, dressed in Sabri’s silk robe and turban, seven rings of gold and silver upon his greasy fingers, the fine garb growing filthier with each passing day.
“That, and some of them would also like to have some of the girls and boys for concubines,” answered Abu.
“They cannot have the little boys, Allah has given them to me for my carnal pleasure,” declared the lascivious Prophet, “As for the little girls, give them to the followers as wives, so that their carnal desires can be sated; it is the will of Allah.”
“Others say that you don’t practice what you have preached,” added a fidgeting Abu, hoping not to arouse Muhammad’s maniacal wrath.
“I’m only the messenger, Allah’s revelations don’t apply to me,” retorted Muhammad, releasing a tearful Jewish boy from his carnal embrace.
“What about me?” asked Abu.
“They don’t apply to you either oaf; would you like a lovely little boy for your carnal pleasure?” slurred the depraved sodomite Muhammad, lustfully leering at another boy he had chosen next to debauch.
“No, I find not that boys appeal to me,” answered Abu quietly, though he was a lecherous pedophile and incestuous pervert, he had no desire to sodomize little boys.
“Suit yourself oaf, more for me to enjoy,” answered the Prophet with a chuckle, undressing another captive boy, returning to his lecherous pederasty as Abu left the tent.
The city of Medina had been taken completely by the conquering Muslims, they reveling in their murderous victory over the infidels and Jews.
In another dream, it was revealed to Muhammad by Allah that they were to attack and conquer the city of Mecca. They were to subdue it and convert the inhabitants there to Islam, after which the Prophet was to take a pagan shrine called the Kaaba and defile it in the name of Allah.
“In Mecca there is glittering plunder, fine gold to steal, and many women to be taken for concubines,” declared the Prophet, “Allah has said to have faith in him and we will not fail; are you with me, warriors for Islam?”
The devoted followers answered, shouting in unison: There is no god but Allah the Pig, and Muhammad is his prophet!”
“We will need weapons to defeat them,” Abu observed, looking to the Holy Prophet.
“Easily done oaf,” replied an unconcerned Muhammad, ordering several henchmen to plunder the city of metal so weapons could be quickly fashioned.
Bronze implements were seized from every home; plowshares were heated and beaten into fine scimitars for the devoted followers.
As his followers labored over hot forges, Muhammad gave a sermon, declaring that vengeance, blood and death would rain down upon Mecca in the name of Allah.
The work completed over several days, a feast was held by the warriors of Islam to further strengthen them for the long journey; the flesh of rats, snakes, vultures and jackals gracing their tables. The hungry Prophet had a willing siren prepare his favorite of all dishes, fat dung beetles boiled in seasoned vulture broth.
“We should give Allah our thanks for the bounty he has provided,” declared Muhammad, seated at the head of his table beside Abu, crushing the hard shell of a dung beetle between his filthy brown teeth.
All bowed their heads in prayer, thanking Allah for the food he had provided.
“Would you like to enjoy a tasty dung beetle oaf?” asked the Prophet, turning to his brother in law, offering one to him.
“No thanks,” replied a nauseated Abu, choking down a plateful of greasy rat flesh.
Washing the unseemly morsels down with strong wine, Muhammad and his followers filled their bellies with the bitter flesh of vermin and then enjoyed the welcome favors of tempting, veiled harlots with dark eyes.
The Muslims, their women and their captives set out for Mecca on the following week, determined to exact Allah’s revenge on the people who dwelt there.
“There are many able men in Mecca, much more than we have,” observed Abu, realizing their numbers were wanting when compared to the teeming hordes of infidels occupying Mecca.
“Allah will watch over us oaf,” replied Muhammad, a sharp scimitar on his hip, he unsure as to what the outcome would be, but keeping this from the others and preparing for the worst.
“There aren’t enough of us Prophet – how will we win?” asked Abu with his arms in the air, looking at their limited numbers, no more than 50 score of able men in the service of Allah.
“Great Allah has said it, they in Mecca will embrace Islam or die for resisting his will,” the vengeful Prophet declared as Medina disappeared behind them in the distance.
A thoughtful Abu wondered why Allah would wish his followers to attack a fortified city where they were outnumbered, and also as to why Allah would have chosen a debauched murderer and licentious pervert for his Prophet.
“Oh well, it is the will of Allah,” agreed a sardonic Abu, much too committed to the deranged Prophet and Islam to back out, checking for the scimitar on his hip.
Surah 121: The Coward
Returning to the oasis to gather strength before attacking Mecca, Muhammad and his followers again feasted on the bitter flesh of vermin and partook of the favors of eager women, the depraved Prophet coming unto the veiled, bare breasted Nubian harlot Sheba.
Oaf Abu learned that his wife Umm had died, Muhammad stating to him over strong wine that it was Allah’s will.
A grieving Abu came unto his new wife, the widow of Sabri, and also knew his daughter Ayesha, fulfilling the will of Allah the Pig.
The Holy Prophet also lusted for Abu’s bride, demanding that he be permitted to lay with her again.
A shrugging Abu handed her over, an angry Muhammad having to beat the stiff-necked infidel woman once again before he knew her.
“You evil murderous beast!” she screamed in tears as Muhammad was knowing her, “May the gods of my fathers destroy you and all you have wrought!”
“How dare you attempt to curse me or Allah,” grunted the Prophet as he reached orgasm, his fetid breath causing her to heave, “Take care woman, or I will expose you as the sorceress you are, giving you over to be stoned by my devoted followers.”
“Better to be dead than to endure your vile attentions again,” Abu’s wife retorted as the Prophet rose from her bed.
“@#$%,” Muhammad muttered as he left Abu’s tent, adjusting his filthy silk turban.
Leaving the oasis on the third day, the devoted Muslims resumed their journey to Mecca, Abu still troubled about their limited numbers and telling the Holy Prophet of his doubts.
“Don’t worry oaf, we will remain behind while the first wave of our brothers besiege and subdue the infidels in Mecca,” Muhammad declared in a low tone of voice, Ayesha looking up to him and frowning.
“Do you have a problem with that wife?” asked Muhammad, strangely controlling his compulsion to beat her for daring to disagree with Allah’s unalterable will.
Ayesha remained silent and looked to the ground, Abu answering, “I thought we would lead them in battle.”
“No, we are to remain behind and observe the followers take the city, it is the will of Allah,” replied Muhammad, he filled with doubts and preferring to watch from afar, as the strong hashish he had eaten in Medina had worn off long ago.
Arriving outside the city walls under cover of night, the Muslims prepared for battle in the only way they knew: skulking by stealth and murdering defenseless people while they slept.
As a full moon rose, a vanguard of devoted followers scaled the city walls, only to be discovered and cut down by the defenders of Mecca.
“Attack in the name of Allah!” shouted Muhammad while retreating to a bluff with Abu, his wives and several trusted followers, the Meccans opening the city gates to meet the glorious warriors of Allah in battle.
Seeing the Holy Prophet on the bluff by moonlight, this sight strengthened the attacking Muslims.
“The battle is not going very well,” observed Abu as the moon rose higher, watching the Muslim army being wiped out.
“Yes, Allah is displeased that our faith was not strong enough,” replied a strangely detached Muhammad, staring from the bluff at the carnage outside the walls of Mecca.
“That, or we didn’t have enough men, I told you,” retorted Abu, watching several followers being hacked to death by the defenders.
“That is possible oaf,” admitted Muhammad, Abu frowning at the reply.
“What do you plan to do to save your followers Prophet?” asked Ayesha.
“Nothing, it is Allah’s will,” replied Muhammad with a shrug, still watching the battle.
Abu’s frown grew into anger as he watched a smiling Muhammad delight in the butchery of his followers.
“You’ve lost at least 30 score since the moon rose, do you intend to stay until we are slaughtered too?” asked Abu’s wife.
“How dare you speak to me unless spoken to!” exclaimed the Prophet, preparing to smite her across the face.
“My good wife Fahimah makes a wise observation,” declared Abu, using her given name for the first time, grasping Muhammad’s forearm, preventing him from striking the widow.
Pulling away from Abu, the Prophet paused and replied, “It’s time for us to leave oaf, we shall retreat to the oasis to pray and fast.”
A defeated Muhammad and his trusted followers left the bluff and headed back toward the oasis in the moonlight. Looking over his shoulder, the Prophet feared that vengeful Meccans might pursue them.
“Let us make haste,” declared Muhammad, fearing for his life.
Several days passed as they retreated from Mecca, the remaining band of Muslims at last pausing for needed rest and making a camp in the desert.
The captive Fahimah had grown to respect her new husband Abu, as he had prevented the Holy Prophet from striking her outside the walls of Mecca. Making him a meal of jackal flesh soup, she presented it to him in his tent.
“Thank you woman,” Abu replied, taking an earthenware bowl and strong wine, she nodding and leaving him to eat.
As Abu was eating, a stir rose in the camp: a lone survivor of the battle having at last caught up to the followers. Putting down his bowl, he left the tent to find the survivor admonishing Muhammad.
“You coward,” he gasped, “You left us to die, have you no faith in your visions, or are they only lies coming from your vile mouth?”
The Prophet, drunk, answered, “I had a dream after the battle, it was Allah’s will that we were defeated, as it was his will that you survived. We lost because our faith in Allah was not strong enough.”
“You lied, telling us of easy plunder and women; there weren’t enough of us to take Mecca, 50 score died outside the gates for nothing!” the man exclaimed.
“No matter, have dung beetles and strong wine to renew your strength,” slurred Muhammad, picking fleas from his beard and flinging them into a small fire at his side.
The man, much too exhausted to argue further, gratefully took a plate of boiled dung beetles and a bottle of wine, trudging off from the deranged Prophet in disgust.
A shocked Abu observed this from the shadows and retreated to his tent. Such knowledge set heavy upon him, he meditating privately on the events.
Finishing his meal, he called for his wife Fahimah, she appearing before him.
I would hear your words wife on this matter: Muhammad preaches Islam, yet he does not follow the words of Allah.”
“He is your Prophet, you have sworn to serve him and Allah, my words are those of an infidel,” she answered respectfully.
“Still I would hear them, for there is wisdom in what you utter,” Abu replied.
Fahimah, still fearful of her brutal husband, yet bound by her personal honor to obey, told him of her thoughts on the Prophet and his actions.
“I care not what god he worships, but this demon in man’s guise is not a prophet of a clean desert god,” she began.
Abu looked at her as she continued, “He forces his followers to consume the flesh of vermin, delighting in their disgust. I truly believe him to be so perverted as to rape an infant - he has others carry out his murderous work while he has no courage to fight himself: you should draw a knife across your daughter Ayesha’s throat and my own to save us from the corruption of this man.”
Abu, oaf that he was, looked at her silently as she urged him to destroy the demon Prophet Muhammad, her wise words much harder to ignore than the screechings of his deceased wife Umm.
"His name was Ibn Rushd Averroes, an Andalusan Arab who translated Aristotle and proposed the compatibility of Aristotelian philosophy, the foundation of Western scientific achievement, and Islam."
The foundation of Western scientific achievement was the experimental scientific method, not Aristotelian philosophy. And the people who invented the experimental scientific method were none other than... Muslims. Major historians of science are already aware of this, including George Sarton (the "father of the history of science"), Robert Briffault, Rosanna Gorini, Will Durant, Fielding H. Garrison, Alexander von Humboldt, etc.
That tends to reinforce the point of the post rather than undermine it -- it is wonderful that Muslims invented the scientific method. What is it about their society that seems to have prevented itself widespread application toward technological achievement in the last 3-5 centuries?
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