Horrors of the new American caliphate

Note: This is a follow-up to King's recent column "2021: The United Shariah States of America."

A note from 2021:

It was only four years ago. But time in the new American caliphate never seems to go fast. I remember it all with a distant mind as if it were decades ago. Or another life all together.

It was a slightly windy early summer day in June of 2017. The beach in Asbury, New Jersey, was populated differently than normal. There was an event hosting people from the homosexual community held at the convention hall. Across the way, at the outdoor summer stage for the Stone Pony rock club, was a weekend punk rock festival.

The beach goers consisted of an array of same-sex couples displaying themselves freely and punk rock rebels allowing their prolific hard-earned tattoos to get some sun. There were vodka drinkers and cigar smokers and day trippers. And there were families intermixed within the whole scene. Being tolerant. Building sand castles. Getting a jump on the summer.

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I remember the shake of the boards as I fell to the ground. I was in the boardwalk boutique where I went to fetch some sunglasses. The shake was quick and abrupt. The blast of flailing body parts, coolers, beach bags and bloody sand storms seemed to last forever.

The bomber didn't see freedom on the beach that day. He didn't see the fruit of the American experiment. He saw infidels. He saw the consequence of living outside of Shariah.

And he wasn't the only one. A similar scene horrified beach heads in the outer banks of Corolla, North Carolina. And in Rehoboth Beach in Delaware. And at the beaches in Santa Monica, California. America had failed to take the necessary hint from the French: Guard your beaches.

The plan Jordanian journalist Fouad Hussein warned about in his book "Al-Zarqawi: The Second Generation of Al Qaeda" was running full tilt by this time. Phase 6, the relentless instigation of the West through widening and intensifying attacks, was right on schedule. ISIS was diligently following Zarqawi's favorite handbook know as "Idarat al-Twahhush," or "The Management Savagery."

The book expressed the stated goal of wearing down the "media halo" of American invincibility. This was done by intensifying coordinated attacks until the instigations finally broke the perceived seal of American security. A security that lived only in the naive American psyche.

A year prior, as the country was submerged in a fog of presidential political posturing, the media halo of American invincibility had remained. But by summer 2017, after the public chose to ignore the criminality of its elected president and gave her a mandate to keep sweeping America's festering Islamism problem under the rug, the halo had been absolutely obliterated.

American invincibility was firmly in the rear view. The media halo was gone, and the horns of sinister Islamism were sprouting with a vengeance.

Fear, horror and cowardice was splattered all over the windshield of the American public's forward view.

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And Mrs. POTUS was entirely inept at dealing with it – particularly because she still refused to identify, define or declare war on the it.

Looking back, I can't help lamenting the days leading up to and directly trailing the inauguration. The coordinated beach attacks was an inflection point that fully penetrated the media halo of invincibility.

And it brought ISIS firmly to their Phase 6 goal of moving toward total confrontation.

But my lamenting doesn't stop there. I also sit here lamenting my own cowardice. My cowardice for denying my faith and giving lip service to submission to Islam. All to save myself for this ongoing hell.

Beside me, sleeping, is my 15-year-old daughter. She followed my lead. My lead led her to enslavement and infibulation.

What is infibulation?

Well, I'll tell you.

Four well-muscled, black-clad, bearded warriors of the Sunni Apocalypse surrounded my daughter, bound to a chair. Helpless.

The strongest of the men crouched behind her chair and clamped his arms mightily on her thighs. Keeping them in place. Spreading them in preparation.

The surgeon continued without emotion as his goons looked on with sick, twisted Islamic solemnity.

The clitoral hood was eliminated first. Then the clitoral glands. Inshallah, my daughter would no longer have the hardware to act on sexual temptation.

But that wasn't sufficient enough. For the Hadith attributes Muhammad to have said:

"Circumcision is sunna for men and an honorable quality for women." And the ISIS goons, scholars as they were, gave equal measure value to the words of the Hadith as to the Quran itself.

So in the name of Islamic honor, removal of the inner labia was next on the agenda. Then the outer labia was removed.

Finally, the closure of the vulva, which was only slightly reversed with the finishing touches of the making of a small hole. You know, so my daughter could still properly urinate and pass menstrual fluids.

And allow herself be violated by Allah's new American caliphate warriors whenever they saw fit.

That was months ago, and she is still in mental shock, stuck in a deep malaise and depression. Most days I cannot speak to her. Only cry to her.

When they let me see her.

Oh, Lord, how did we ever allow ourselves to get here?

Read King's preceding column "2021: The United Shariah States of America."