Crackwhores in Armani.

I’ve waited awhile to write about the shootings in Toulouse, partially because I believe the victims deserve more than a few angry words and snarky comments about the “religion of peace,” and partially because the children murdered were very close to my child’s age, an occurrence which fills the hearts of most mothers with an icy terror. You see your child’s face instead of the victim’s. Your rational brain stands by helplessly while the animal fear of losing your child pummels you with the imagery the actual mother of the deceased must have witnessed. You find yourself praying for a woman you will never meet, and for the first time in at least a week, hope that Hell is real and that bastard murderer will suffer tremendously for all eternity. The picture accompanying this article in the Telegraph is devastating. I look at it, I read the details of the murders, and I wonder, who has it in them to kill children in cold blood?

There was no real physical description of the murderer given – far be it from me to cast aspersions on any one ethnic or religious group – and I find that rather curious. I read that the “jihadist’”with “links to al Qaeda” quite possibly filmed his sick murder porn to upload it to the ‘net – who does that? Who watches that? The same people that watched Danny Pearl’s murder? The same people who downloaded Nick Berg’s beheading?

The violence against Jews in Europe is extremely troubling. At least it is to people who have no stake in the continual victimization of the Palestinians. Mark Steyn has an example of the kind of idiotic moral equivalence that was inevitably trotted out in the wake of this kind of depravity. Violence against Jews is the symptom of a much larger problem, as history has shown us time and again, most notably in the last century, and no amount of politically correct, culturally sensitive, morally equivalent claptrap can change that.

We – civilized, non-child-killing, and, for the most part, sane people – cannot wish this away. There is no way to deal diplomatically with a group of people who believe they are divinely called to murder eight year olds. Or three year olds. Or anyone else who might be interested in living their life in the relative liberty provided by Western civilization. Attempting to coddle, to mollify, to acquiesce will only lead to more violence and more intimidation. To dumb it down to a level even the libbiest lib can understand: If you give the bully your lunch money, he will be back tomorrow for more.

If it was true in grade school, how is it less true today? You either punch that bully right in the mouth, knocking out some teeth and hopefully incapacitating him, or you meekly get used to starving at lunchtime. I don’t know about you, but I’ve always thought that punching was a better strategy. Since I am a girl, most of my punching was done in the figurative sense, which makes it no less scary. Facing off with some chick twice your size in the hallway outside your eighth grade lit class is a spike of adrenaline, even if your war was fought with words and bitchiness. She might punch you. But at least you stood your ground. At least you didn’t grovel and beg, or cry and whine. At least you didn’t become the lackey, the apologist. The appeaser.

Bibi was willing to say what the French were afraid to say – what the world was unwilling to say, because at some level, antisemitism is now an acceptable form of hate. Oh, one can attempt to qualify one’s hatefulness by relabeling it “anti-Zionism” or “anti-colonialism” but it’s still antisemitism. Dressing a toothless crackwhore in Armani and Louboutins does not make her an “escort.”

It just makes you a john.