Posted on 06/20/2016 1:06:53 PM PDT by Travis McGee
Piss Christ? Piss Koran!
Part Four: Resolution
by Matthew Bracken
Your call, smart guy. The phone connection made a click and the line went dead.
(The rest is at the Gates of Vienna link above.)
Mike wasnt a kid. He knew that he wouldnt live forever. Hed had enough brushes with death to understand that a healthy old age was not guaranteed in the contract. Hed been standing next to men who had stepped the wrong way, and fallen. Hed helped pull a mans body off a concrete footer where hed been impaled on an uncapped rebar stake. Just two stories down, and dead as a nail. Laughing and joking the minute before. A paragraph in the back of the paper, if that. There but by the grace of God.
Before hed climbed the tower, Mike hadnt planned out how the stunt would finish up. He figured that at the very least, hed be arrested for trespassing. In fact, he didnt even have a bottle of piss. It was apple juice, in case he spent the whole day up there and ran out of bottled water. He just wanted BCA News to be forced to publicly account for how casually they accepted Serranos Piss Christ as art, showing it on their website for years, when they were too cowardly to ever show a single peep of an unpixilated Mohammed cartoon. But finishing the morning by crawling down the twenty ladders, and hoping that some police officers would arrive to protect him from the gathering crowd of enraged Muslims?
No way. Not even if he had believed Vic Del Rio about the police escort, and he didnt believe that lying weasel for a second. Not after Del Rio set him up for the mayors phone call, and the coordinated SWAT helicopter assault. Now there was only a single thin line of police barricades across the middle of 53rd Street, but there were no police officers standing behind it. Frank Salerno had said that the mayor wanted him dead. That, he believed. Some kind of a deal had been struck, but it wasnt with him. It was between the mayor and the leaders of the local Muslim community.
So even if he wanted to go, to slip away quietly, the mob now unrolling their prayer rugs on 53rd already angry enough to chew rebar and spit bullets would see him coming before he was halfway down the twenty ladders. In their minds, he had already desecrated their Holy Koran by tearing up Sura 9:5, the Verse of the Sword.
So the die was cast. Well, nothing lasts forever. It had been a great life, and hed had a wonderful wife. At least it was a gorgeous August morning in Midtown Manhattan, the rising sun casting beams and shadows down the length of 53rd. If this was his day to go, he thought he might as well make the best of it. He looked at his watch. It was 8:33, so he had just under a half hour. That is, if the mob was going to wait until after their morning prayers to stop the two blasphemies.
He picked up his iPhone to see what they were covering on BCA. A reporter was standing in front of a wave-pounded marina in Cabo San Lucas while Hurricane Eliza swept through. He selected his other television network preset buttons, and saw that none of them were covering the events around 6th Avenue and 53rd Street in Midtown Manhattan. Vic Del Rio had been right. The plug had been pulled on his stunt. He put the ear bud from his little Sony radio back in. On WNYR, he was surprised to hear Jerry Conroys voice, but it only took him a moment to understand that it was a pre-recorded best of show.
Meanwhile, beyond the puny little barricade just to the west of the crane, 53rd Street was rapidly filling up with devout Muslims who had heard the imams call to action. While he watched, he saw something glint in the sunlight. A man in a tan robe unrolled his prayer rug, revealing a sword, which he waved in circles over his head. Then the sword went against the pavement, his prayer rug concealing it.
Mike tried calling the WNYR studio office line again, but got a busy signal. He knew it would be useless to call the other radio and television stations on his list. But he also knew that there must still be cameras on him, even from across 53rd in the Grand Hotel. He found his spiral notebook and his Sharpie, and was considering which sticky-noted verse advocating the murder, plunder and rape of the infidels to tear out of the Koran next, when he heard an insistent rapping behind him. He looked around his poncho lean-to shanty toward the corner office of the bank building, and saw a crowd of people, at least half of them in police uniforms.
The woman from the other office was there again, holding another file folder message against the window. It read >call this number< followed by nine digits. He didnt recognize the area code; it wasnt from New York. It was hard to see around the shanty, so he unclipped the bungee cords from the corners, rolled it up, and put it away in his pack. With the BCA cameras a hundred yards across 6th Avenue turned off, it no longer made sense to hide from the eyewitnesses who were nearest to him, police or not.
He still had a zip-lock bag with unused prepaid flip phones, so he used a fresh one to call the number. It was picked up and answered on the second ring. He heard Hello? It was a woman this time.
A wonderful ending,Matt.
But I want more!
That’s how I know this is a great story.
The part about the Hardhats and the Muslims was most gratifying.
We have been denied that for 15 years.
Thinking of the girl - seeing the poem she wrote - a real person, tortured and killed by Islam, and she is one of millions.
You’ve matured into one of the better writers out there.
Me, I’m staying closer to technology. I wish I had the time to write.
Travis! That was awesome!
Loved the parts with the Underground Railroad references and the Russian Mob showing up!
Put your right foot in, indeed!!!!
BUMP
Here are links to easily printable and downloadable formats.
I encourage anybody to copy it, mirror it, or reprint it anywhere, in whole or in part.
http://chromatism.net/current/pisschristpisskoran.htm
http://chromatism.net/current/PCPK-PDF.pdf
He started out just trying to make a point about media double standards, but it went way beyond that, and the disposition of the Koran became secondary. He did tear up the Verse of the Sword, and throw it on the street under the boots of the hard hats.
I had to get him out of there with some little miracles.
Their hand was forced, later Monday.
I’d love to see ABCNNBCBS ever account for keeping Pi$$ C. up on their networks in clear detail to this very day, while blurring out or not even showing the silliest simple Motoons.
It’s going to be a long time still. Don’t hold your breath.
That’s the problem with novels, they take TOO LONG.
Excellent! Thanks for the ping! Now I can hardly wait until I’m done working for the day and can read the conclusion. I won’t be reading the comments on this thread until AFTER I’ve read part 4, fearing any potential spoilers there.
It’s very important for folks to understand that it’s been more common for Islam to spread by bribery at the top and a little terror at the bottom, than via force of arms adn invasions by massive armies.
Islam has often infiltrated and taken over many more advanced cultures, by both bribing and terrorizing the leadership.
This is how it works, in microcosm. The private message gets to the mayor: We have your wife and kids, and we’ll cut their heads off next week.
OR, you will send your guards away, and lower the gate at midnight, and we will return your family unharmed, and pay you with a chest of gold.
(In Spanish they call it, “plomo, o plata.” It’s the cartel formula for success as well as Islam’s. Lead, or silver. Choose one.)
Folks should NOT count on their leaders to save them. Most of the times, the leaders will sell them out, to preserve their wealth, status and positions.
They often have converted to Islam, and stayed on as mayor/regent etc. After betraying their people.
This is how it works, folks. Which is why Hillary, Petraeus etc taking millions from the Saudis is so dangerous and dishonorable.
As always with your writing, this was great ... I am left wanting to know what's next for Mike, just as I feel for Dan Kilmer, Phil Carson, Rayna, et al ...
Thank you so much for this work ... I keep up hope that we can pull ourselves out of the muck the "progressives" regressives have mired us in ... your stories keep that hope alive.
The layers of propaganda are like an onion.
Thanks, Matt! I’ll be passing these around.
Please do. Anybody can freely copy, print, link or repost them anywhere.
These are pre-formatted HTML and PDF links.
http://chromatism.net/current/pisschristpisskoran.htm
http://chromatism.net/current/PCPK-PDF.pdf
As I’ve said before....watch your back! This really is provocative!
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