The Satanic Verses, a review, sort of.

It is often said that the most influential books are the most essential. Books that have changed history or broken the mold with revolutionary style, topics or ideas. Books that spawned new literary genres, riots, political revolutions, and cultural revelations. Within my lifetime there have been very few books that fit these demands. Now, I must warn that I will be deliberately offensive and crude in composing my views. If you are of a similar mind to myself in thinking that no topic is taboo and that all opinions are equally absurd, I hope you see my observations and allow me to challenge the beliefs I find an affront to human decency. That being said, I also hope you see the shred of sardonic humor with which I pepper my writing.

As a fan of the late Christopher Hitchens I've worked avidly to fill the gaps in my understanding of his references. Being the literary giant he is, and will always remain, I doubt I will ever complete a reading of all works Hitchens is reputed to have digested. Not only will I probably not make my way through the library of Hitchens. I will probably never come close. However, reading all but a handful of his publications I have made my own list for essential reading. The majority fall into the category of "most influential books" but not all are inspired by Hitchens. It is directly through my exposure to Christopher Hitchens that I became aware of the author Salman Rushdie. Hitchens explains the fate of Rushdie in his book "God is Not Great." A fate woven by the publication of the book "The Satanic Versus." Recently I took up the challenge of reading cover to cover this formidable text. Formidable  because of it's five hundred plus pages, dreary language and uninteresting 'islamocentric' story.

"The Satanic Versus" obviously takes themes from a wide range of well known works beyond the Koran. The basic transformation of the characters is directly influenced by Franz Kafka's "Metamorphosis". The writing style as long series short stories is reminiscent of the "Arabian Nights". The endless repetition of quasi-philosophical axioms is found in many other influential stories such as Frank Herbert's "Dune". These influences are blended with a satirical writing style that is almost directly stolen from Joseph Heller's "Catch-22." The book seems to be little more than a chimera of more influential works geared toward people descended from Arabic cultures. This view is perhaps his intent. "Satanic Versus" is an attempt to combine the rich culture of western literary works with the depressing lack of literary culture among Muslims. He only succeeds in exposing the dangers of belief and fundamentalism. I have no doubt that above all others, Islamic fundamentalists are the readers Rushdie had in mind when writing the book. It only justifies the western perception of Islam as childish ignorant and primitive by fueling reactionary fundamentalists.

I read it wondering 'what kind of book could possibly drive so many people to riot?' I thought it would at least be interesting given the riots, fatwa, death threats and media coverage it inspired. I finished Salman Rushdies "The Satanic Versus" and thought 'Holy crap monkey! The only way this crappy book could have possibly sold a single copy is with hype.' This has got to be the most boring story I've read since the forced consumption of Shakespeare in public school. Expecting a grand work worthy of its received hype I found it to be entirely unimpressive. I struggled my way though the book stopping frequently to rest my mind on things less mind numbing. I found Inspiration to continue only in the screaming faces of Islamic zealots calling for Rushdies head. Their ugly faces alone solidified my commitment to finish this book.

Ironically, the true insults within the book lay in the way Rushdie portrays the English. Snobbish, egotistical, self-centered, and materialistic are the qualities of the English characters. The Irony of this is a long tradition of English self-deprecation which would never object to such a portrayal. Yet as far as I am aware, not a single Englishman joined rioters or burned the book. This fact serves to magnify the civility of western culture and better contrasts it to the stagnant bronze age culture of the Koran. The basic principle of free speech expressed by Rushdie and embraced by western culture is also a magnifying principle. It highlights the differences between the civilized and the uncivilized. The refusal of any western government to comply with Muslim requests to ban the book further magnifies the divide between civilization and barbarism.  

Sadly, it does nothing to warrant respect for the 'offended'. In fact this book is so lame I have to think that those who claim offense must be mentally disabled idiots with no ability to comprehend written language in the first place. Call me insensitive but the idea that anyone let alone an entire "religion" (as if religions are entities themselves) could be offended by this books is laughable. This subverts any level of respect its followers may deserve. Ironically those who claimed offense never bothered to read it before burning. Simply put, to claim offense by something unread is the epitome of ignorance. It's nothing but contemptible and seems to justify the bias perception of Muslims as barbarians. That a religion could be offended is itself a concept worthy of contempt, but adding to the contempt, its followers voluntarily remain ignorant to the actual work itself. Offense by this childish fable is reason enough to dismiss such a religion as anything worthy of respect. Furthermore the fact that adherents of this faith are willing to call for blood without ever reading the words that inspired the fatwa confirms the western perception of Islam as merely primitive ignorance. The lesson is these people are more than stupid, they are violent barbarians who threaten the basic human right of free speech and the basis of human civilization. Not only does the bloodlust of this "faith" display a gross disrespect for Gods creation itself, it is the apex of inhumanity and barbarism that only begs for disrespect, derision, scorn, and pity. Like monkeys throwing their own shit, they bring disrespect upon themselves.

As misplaced as the Muslim rage is, I do not feel that their offense is entirely unwarranted. If the offended were to claim as I do, insult to the intellect, I would have to agree. The offense is not toward Muhammad or his ignorant, violent and hypocritical followers. Unless they are so stupid and primitive as to find anger in mere words on a paper they have never read, which they seem to be more than eager to do. The offense is not in the text itself but in the delusion and hype of being a work worthy of our time. If the riots were not a call to justice for offending Islam, but for the vast amount of human time wasted and devoted to reading this book, I could sympathize. I wish I could unread this book and charge Rushdie for the offense of stealing a bit of my life. I only recommend this book if you have already read all of the many great works that humanity has produced, perhaps "Atlas Shrugged", "War and Peace", "Dune", "It", "Shogun", "Walden", the complete works of Carl Sagan or if you are immortal and can devote an insane amount of time reading any boring garbage.

I must remind myself that his book acted as a spotlight illuminating the stupidity and radical insanity of Muhammad's followers. Here I must thank Rushdie for shining light on this topic by the peaceful means of literature rather than the preferred method of combining martyrdom and mass murder.

End Rant.

LSD and 4th of July without fireworks.

The 4th of July is an American holiday that fills the air with explosions smoke and the smell of BBQ. It is the celebration of American independence from British Imperialism. A celebration that terrifies pets and wild animals with fireworks. Unlike all the celebrations of war however, I totally fucking love the 4th of July!

Maybe I'm getting old so I'm less enthralled with the holiday or maybe I've discovered something more appealing than booze and bombs. This years celebration was very different from my tradition of drinking beer and blowing up the empty bottles with illegally modified fireworks. Or my alternative tradition of drunkenly riding my bike around the city while sipping on a bottle of tequila and eventually crashing a party or BBQ. This year I stayed home with my girlfriend and we ate LSD.

All day the city echoed the pops and whistles of fireworks and we sipped ciders left over from the night before. Each of us ate one and a half acid laced sugar cubes around Seven P.M. and put on a stupid movie to wait until the drug began to show its effects. About half way into the movie the acid crept in. I felt it grip my spine. My jaws began to tighten and my face contorted into the classic Cheshire cat grin. The shivers rolled around my body making me giggle and moan with its energy. Sitting on the couch I curled into the fetal position and hugged my pillow. We began to writhe and stretch as the LSD opened our minds to the tension in our bodies. Excitement and blissful joy energized us priming us for all that could happen. A loud series of bangs shot through the house from the fireworks in the street. The abrupt absurdity of it broke our tension and we laughed hysterically.

We finished the movie and stepped outside to explore the vines and trees in our back yard. We admired the fractal spirals in the sunflowers and ate some josta berries. We could only be outside for a few minutes because the sulfur smell from the fireworks was intolerable. I decided music is what we needed so I played the essential Pink Floyds' "Dark Side of the Moon" followed by Tychos' "Sunrise Projector" as we looked through a massive coffee table picture book of cosmic photographs. We stared at the nebulae and galaxies and planetary images taken by the Hubble Telescope for nearly an hour. The nebulae waved and sparkled in one trippy image after another. The Ant nebula expanded forever and the Eagle Nebula reached out to swallow us.

Inspired by the Technicolor worms and Amish blankets surrounding us we broke out the art supplies. But I could not focus on anything long enough to record this inspiration with color. I retreated to the bathroom and laughed at the absurdity of my face in the mirror. Horror and wonder rippled across my face and I laughed and laughed at the sight of it all. My eyes like saucers I made goofy expressions to see the shape of my face contort into the ugliest of masks.

This was one of the few LSD adventures that did not result in a grand awakening. It did however relieve the tension and stress we've been feeling since I quit my soul sucking job a month before. This trip was not filled with visions and revelations. Instead it was one filled with joy and relief and reaffirmed our faith in each other. It was a journey that let us abandon our apprehensions and embrace each other in the realization that everything is temporary. It reminded us that all we really have is the time we spend on each other. It expanded our love for one another. It smothered us in forgiveness and understanding. I imbued us with the understanding that everything really is going to be OK.