wild world

Cat Stevens makes me want to throw things.

Not that he's done anything particularly noteworthy in this article, except board a plane. But just in general. In his own way, he's done more to hurt the reputation of Islam than to help it. I remember having a conversation with a friend in high school who asked me why music was considered bad for Muslims. I used to love Cat Stevens. I still love some of his songs. But I'm really glad he declared to the world that his love for Islam meant he had to stop producing those nasty songses. Yes, I know it was to break free from a world of SIN (drinking, drugs, cavorting with frisky free women--which, sorry, but I prefer the world of SIN). It's just tragic that he couldn't continue his music career and sing about things that didn't offend him. Like, um. Trees. And flowers. Or something.

That's what frothy fundamentalists don't seem to get. Their extreme behavior makes the entire religion look like a bunch of freaks. Yes, they're usually in the minority, but they're also the loudest and garner the most attention. Or maybe it's not that they don't get it, it's just that they don't care.

As much as I'm not a fan of organized religion, it is possible to follow Islam in a moderate, non-psycho way. But sitting in a camp with Khomeini, bellowing for the head of Salman Rushdie is not the way of peaceful submission.

Also, to be needlessly catty: Yusef Islam? That's the name he picked for himself? Hello! That's about as lame as someone changing their name to Johnny Christianity. Yes, we get it. We see the beard and turban. We know you're ON THE TEAM. Chill, motherfucker.

Sheesh.

snerk

So when I read that the Italian's were commemorating the death of porn star Moana Pozzi, I assumed her first name was a reflection of her claim to fame, and not a Hawaiian island that means "the point where the sea is deepest."

[from nikkinewsnet]

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

It's remarkable how fast you can clean up your flat when you run into your landlord downstairs and he asks if he can come up a little bit later to look at your cranky dryer problem.

*scurry* *scurry* *scurry*

God bless closets and their concealing magic.

*hurl* *hurl* *hurl*

Just hope he doesn't need to use the bathroom (aka Kicked-out Litter Central). After last weekend, I realize I definitely want to live with Greg. He swept up Hobbes' kicked out litter approximately 50 times a day. Huh. Could I get used to the lack of daily exfoliation on the bottom of my feet? Is there anything sexier than a man kneeling at your feet with a dustpan?

( *ramble* *ramble* *ramble* )