Justice

You know, there is a great joy in the knowledge that God is just. The more I learn about terrorist and the way they think . . . how do you deal with that logically? How do you manage to talk intelligently with a guy who goes ballistic and purifies himself if you touch them after putting on your shoes - without washing your hands first? How do you reason with madness? How do you calmly discuss options/terms with wacko fanatics?

. . . and then . . .

Then I think, man, these guys don't get me either. They think I'm a wacko. And the fact that I'm a woman . . . man! (Makes me wanna take off my shoes, clean out toe jam and then touch their face---AFTER I pick my hiney! Unclean? I'll show you unclean.)

I think I'll go ahead and stretch the limits of being politically incorrect and state that they're wrong. And I'd love to be a fly on the wall when they pull that string, or push that button that blows them into space and out of this life and watch their faces when they are NOT met with 70 virgins, but rather by my God, who is a Consuming Fire.

You know, maybe I'd feel different if I didn't have 2 sons active duty navy.

Nope. I don't think so.