What a day to start a blog!

At last: justice for a butcher. As of early this morning, Hamas’ founder Sheikh Ahmed Yassin involuntarily assumed room temperature. The Israeli Air Force sent him three precision-guided love letters, and this time his wheelchair wasn’t quite fast enough to give the postman the slip. I suggest sending a pizza to the Israeli Defense Forces as an attaboy.
I don’t care that he was paralyzed and an old man. He was responsible for the slaughter of innocents (WARNING: GRAPHIC IMAGES). Note to Palestinians: pushing an empty wheelchair at the head of a bloodthirsty mob isn’t the way to get the civilized world’s sympathy for your dear departed terrorist mastermind. The lame attempt at moral equivalence doesn’t pass the sniff test. As Jonah Goldberg put it today, “let’s not confuse arsonists with firefighters.
Wonder if the old guy even cares about those 72 virgins (or was that raisins) anymore? Burning in Hell has a way of focusing one’s priorities, after all.

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