The following is a letter I submitted to my college’s student newspaper in response to this column. He has since written another column which you can find here. If you’re asked to enter an email address, use ghetto bean 3 at cox dot net (no spaces). It’s an old email of mine that I don’t use anymore so I don’t really mind putting it out here.
I must admit that after a solid month and a half of silence, I found myself pondering the absence of the University of Rhode Island’s Grand Old Party from the headlines of the Cigar. I felt a void; I missed their antics in much the same way one misses waking to the soothing melody of jackhammers outside one’s window each morning. When the construction is finished and you wake one morning to discover the cacophony has left you, you almost miss it. Almost.
As I walked across the campus this afternoon, almost as if to answer my ponderings, I noticed something written in chalk in front of the student union. The term “Islamo-Fascism” caught my eye, and beneath that, the URI GOP. I smiled. “Billy Boy” is back.
“Billy Boy” is, of course, my pet name for URI GOP lap dog Ryan Bilodeau. You may remember Mr. Bilodeau from such farces as the “White Heterosexual American Male” scholarship, or perhaps his fundraiser to collect money to “buy guns for underprivileged women in an attempt to end domestic violence.” Classy.
As I mentioned earlier, Bilodeau’s newest act appears to revolve around “Islamo-Fascism.” Islamo-Facism, in laymen’s terms, is used to suggest an association between Islam and Nazis. One need only read Bilodeau’s Thursday’s column in the Cigar to realize that he makes little, if any, distinction between Islam and Islamo-Fascism. His copious use of “skeptic quotes” and (pointed parenthetical asides) while describing Islam, not Islamo-Fascism, to preface his harangue only reinforces this notion.
One can’t help but wonder what caused “Billy Boy” and his cronies to decide that URI needed immediate illumination on the imminent threat of Islamo-Facism. Given that 9/11 happened six years ago, I find his saber-rattling to be rather remiss, if not entirely non sequitur.
What’s more, he doesn’t even make good points. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone; I just felt it was worth bringing up. He seems hell-bent on making as many references to Islam not being a peaceful religion as he can. “[Fundamental Islam] as subscribed to by Jihadists and fascists.” That’s right, fascists. Apparently Nazis were Muslims. Go figure.
A funny thing I noticed is that parallels can be made for practically all of the points Bilodeau makes. Mohammed was a warlord you say? I suggest you read Numbers 31 in your Bible, Ryan. That’s the part where Moses instructed the Israelite soldiers to kill every Midianite woman, boy and the non-virgin girl. The virgin girls were then raped by the soldiers (Numbers 31:18).
And last I checked (a few years ago), you listed Matthew 10:34 as one of your “favorite quotes” on Facebook.com, where Jesus says “Do not think that I came to bring peace on Earth. I did not come to bring peace but a sword.” Yes, “espousals of and incitements to extreme violence” indeed, Ryan. Surely Islam is alone in this regard.
Bilodeau talks about how the Quran is outdated, written for a “far different time than we are now living in.” The same could be said of the Bible. He bemoans the fact that some followers interpret the Quran word for word. If some people didn’t insist on interpreting it word for word we wouldn’t have to go to court to keep things like “Intelligent Design” out of our schools. Bilodeau talks of “ignorant, indoctrinated youth.” The irony is overwhelming.
Though no matter how hard Bilodeau tries to get students’ hackles up, I cannot help but smile. I’m filled with a gleeful sense of schadenfreude. He appears to be completely unaware of just how much of an ass he makes of himself. It’s like watching someone leave the lavatory with toilet paper stuck to their heel, except that person is notorious for unmitigated boorishness and insists on calling attention to his heel by submitting pictures of it to the Cigar. Every time he stands on his soapbox, my attention shifts from the uncouth rubbish exiting his gaping maw to the toilet paper on his heel, which only seems to grow larger with each passing word, a never-ending source for derisive laughter.
So keep on talking, “Billy Boy”; you’re the best laugh I’ve had all month.
What a Mess 