Trauma has made me a stranger in my own land. Last year a certain series of events comprises, hands down, the worst period of my life. Trauma horrible enough to breed silence. Small trauma leaves me bending everyone’s ear, but life-shattering trauma leaves me speechless. I don’t want to talk about it. Ever. I just want to leave it behind.
What I can’t leave behind is the legacy of that trauma because it’s changed me in some fundamental way. Extreme trauma has handed me an apple from the Tree of Knowledge, and I’ve consumed it whole, peel and flesh and core, down to the last seed. What’s seen can’t be unseen, and I can no longer feel at home in this garden.
I wonder now what I was thinking then, and consistently come to the conclusion I wasn’t thinking at all. I was the walking dead, going along with rest of the zombie herd, wandering through the streets, oblivious and rotting. I was in some ways more steeped in Islam in my private sphere than I am now. The kind of token Muslim liberals love. A secularist, content with quiet prayers, I rarely challenged a tyrant, unless the litmus test became too rigorous. The “muscular liberal” could create a spark, but there was no chance of a fire breaking out. Or even candlelight.
The personal was personal and the political was subsumed in the lie of liberal pluralism. Democracy, Freedom, Rational Choice. Secular tawheed, strictly enforced.
The personal is political, says the famous feminist battle cry. I would be content to practice Islam in my private space if the so-called “progressives” and “liberals” weren’t such tyrants. They take up all the space. They insist. Abnormal is the new normal. Tiny factions of strange, broken people climb to the top of their ivory towers and drizzle all of us with poison. Insanity varnished in pseudo-intellectual blather, polished until it shines. The glint leaves us blind.
Where are the Christians? Has the Rapture come and gone? I can’t imagine all the Christians sleeping through the last 40 years.
“They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice. They are gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents; they have no understanding, no fidelity, no love, no mercy.” (Romans 1: 29-31; NIV)
Religious conservatives have always been at a disadvantage. Logic and reason are viewed as flawless, despite the fact this thinking is so obviously flawed. Explain to me, using logic and reason, the essence of life, the essence of love, or the essence and meaning of anything in the spiritual realm. Explain to me a fragrance. What could be more mundane?
Yet even if you write a factually accurate encyclopedia devoted to explaining a fragrance, you will never capture its essence. You can offer a breakdown of a its chemical composition, and describe its color and its place on the spectrum in angstroms of light. You can try to explain that it has a hint of vanilla, an undertone of musk. Tell us the soft amber mist reminds you of autumn. But no matter what you say, how logical and factual, or even creative and poetic your treatise, there is no substitute for simply taking a whiff and experiencing the fragrance firsthand.
Words can’t even explain a fragrance, so why would anyone think they can explain the essence of God? Or nature? Or right vs. wrong?
People ridicule religion now, and do their best to consign faith to the historical archives. A relic best left in the past, along with the quaint concept of human nature. Self-appointed “experts” define our nature now. The more elaborate their theories, the more the simplest realities are lost. What would be known to people in a remote tribe, who’ve have yet to develop the means to read and write, becomes obsolete.
How many genders are there, dear bushmen? Two, he would say, after he recovered from the shock of being asked something so absurd. Only a fool would ask such a question, or an “intellectual” spawned in the ivory towers of a debauched society.
When I think of a revolution, I think of violence. Of refreshing the tree of liberty with the blood of zealots of one kind or another. The traumatic birth of a new era. But sometimes revolution comes slowly, by way of a bloodless coup. Insidious, a quiet ideological revolution has taken place right under our noses.
There are many genders now. While you were sleeping, dozens were spawned. Facebook has capitulated, and the same nonsense is seeping into the schools.
O mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another. Indeed, the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you. Indeed, Allah is Knowing and Acquainted. (Qur’an 49:13)
Gender and sex used to be interchangeable terms. “Sex” was favored when three-letters best fit on the space of a form, but “gender” was less ambiguous. Male and female. Both genders, not “all” genders.
The first time I saw “all genders,” it was in reference to a workshop at Harvard University called, “What What in the Butt: Anal Sex 101″ No, it’s not a parody. I checked. Harvard is an Ivy League school where you can learn about joys of sodomy for “all genders.” While I was wandering through the streets in a deep, deep slumber, America succumbed to madness. Sodom and Gomorrah have arrived at Cambridge.
Harvard’s sex workshops caused a bit of a stir. A shred of decency survives, but not for long, I suspect. Again, where are the Christians? On the rare occasion they are handed the microphone, what they say is usually disappointing. Even I used to think they were hate-filled throwbacks. Bible thumpers who belonged in the margins, and the rest of us marched toward the abyss called “progress.” The War on God has already been “won” in the West, where almost everyone perceives their tragic defeat as a decisive victory. Onward godless soldiers, to the War on Human Nature.
A man and woman. The most natural concept in the world. Marriage and children and the circle of life. Do you think that’s normal? Today’s luminaries will tell you you’re wrong. Marriage is a prison, unless it’s between two people of the same gender. Then it’s liberation. If you’re a woman married to a man, that’s a prison. If you’re man married to a woman you’re an oppressor, to the extent we notice you at all. A feminist recently stirred a little controversy when she said, “PIV is always rape, Okay?” Notice I didn’t say “radical” feminist. Feminism is a radical idea. And a destructive one too.
Gender is no longer a reflection of physical reality. Like everything else in the world, feminists have decided gender is nothing more than a “construct.” You can be any gender you want. Identify any way you want. You don’t even have to identify as human. You can be an otherkin, and identify as a giraffe, or a lamppost, of the gender of your choice, of course. Do lampposts have a gender? If you have to ask that question, what you need is a feminist or a queer to rescue you from the prison imposed by common sense.
Homosexuality is not a mental illness or a perversion. It’s normal. It’s heterosexuality that is unnatural, imposed by the patriarchy in “this culture,” say the feminists. In every culture, but never mind. Get your head in the clouds and fog up your brain until all of this makes sense. Otherwise, you might lapse into “heteronomative” reality and lose sight of the unreality feminists have imposed on us all.
Is this is new thing? Or was I just not paying attention?
It’s hard to explain to people these days why you oppose the political ideologies associated with feminism and homosexuality. You will be scoffed and insulted. I don’t care what people do in their privacy of their bedrooms and never have. But the personal is political and the political is personal and what happens in the bedroom has to be broadcast. Bed sheets and breasts are billboards these days. We’re here, we’re queer, and I’m not used to it. Nor will I ever be again.
But I once was. I used to think all this was all okay. Anything that happened between consenting adults was fine, and not just in the privacy of the bedroom. Orange is the new black. It’s the color of tolerance and pluralism and progress and all good things. Forget baseball and hot dogs and mom’s apple pie. Those are heteronormative symbols of the patriarchy. Californication is the new califragilistic.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. We love everything we used to find atrocious.
Has the world gone mad, or have I? I rub my eyes and blink, but this doesn’t go away. Ten year old boys and girls are being taught the “joys” of sodomy in public schools. But you can’t call them “boys” and “girls” because once again, you are imprisoning them in physical reality, imposing heteronomative patriarchy on the children. You should call them the red apples and the purple penguins, say the Disciples of Gender Theory. Or call them “people who like milk” and “people who don’t like milk.” Even better. The crazier it sounds, the more it makes sense. That’s the essence of Gender Theory.
I don’t have PhD in Women’s Studies, but I do have a Gender Theory of my own. A Gender Reality. There are two genders. Male and female, and you can tell which one you are with a quick peek “down there.” I think it’s pretty simple. Or maybe not.
Everywhere I go, people are drunk, confused and stupid. How did I wander among them and not feel submerged in filth and insanity? I can’t fathom that now. Did trauma wake me up or put me over the edge? I might never know, were it not for this:
And hold firmly to the rope of Allah all together and do not become divided. And remember the favor of Allah upon you – when you were enemies and He brought your hearts together and you became, by His favor, brothers. And you were on the edge of a pit of the Fire, and He saved you from it. Thus does Allah make clear to you His verses that you may be guided. (Qur’an 3:103)