Turning the Turntables on ISIS

[NOTE: Both the subject of the news and the subject of this parody song are too fraught to permit comments on this here particular post. The Baron says “you post it, you moderate comments”. Nuh-uh. Sure, lots of y’all would be perfectly on-topic, in-tune, and civil in your responses. But backstage I’d be plenty busy murdering the ugly reactions. I simply don’t have the energy.]

Commenter Papa Whiskey sent a parody today a few days ago. His response to the perfidious CNN’s latest jihad porn masked as “news” is, in my humble opinion, clever. Clever because instead of remaining in that swamp of bad feelings evoked by this MSM excrement and the ISIS behavior they insist on having you view, Papa Whiskey decided to transcend it with his own creation. It’s a thumb in the eye of ISIS. Not to mention CNN. No, it is neither an indictment of homosexuals nor a plaudit on their behalf. As we’ve learned, the gay community is quite capable of taking care of their own. Well, maybe not where ISIS wanders, but then ISIS is an equal opportunity hater: women, Christians, heretic Muslims, etc., ad nauseam.

First, though, do you remember the song “Up on the Roof”?

Yeah, the Drifters in 1962.

Definitely an urban song, the kind suburban kids sang along to as they went cruising. Back then they ‘cruised’ in packs along their town’s main drag, with the object of burning all that cheap gas to see and be seen. Urban kids identified with being up there on the roof wishing they were at the beach; suburban kids simply sang along.

For the Suburbians, cruising passed for personal contact in the Automotive Age in mid-20th century America — a time as vanished and vanquished as, say, the election of Lincoln. The only difference being that many of those folks from 1962 are still extant. So this isn’t relevant to the Kewl Kids in Charge of Everything, but to those others, still breathing and still voting — though the latter activity seems less relevant now than it did back then.

Early on in a year that promises to be bloody-in-your-face-MSM-“news” porn, we can watch the meaning of a simple middle class adolescent pleasure from 1962 morph into something ugly, deadly, and terrifying. In order to maintain sanity, infidels like Papa Whiskey are tuning up and using their creative juices to transcend the terror:

To be sung to the You Tube tune, above the fold:

Off of the Roof

By Papa Whiskey, aka Paul Green © 2015
(With apologies to Gerry Coffin and Carole King)

When the infidel world starts getting us down
And faggots are just too much for us to face
We drag one up to the top of the stairs
Bind his impure body, and throw it right off into space

Off of the roof, perversions meet their end
Off of the roof, gay boys will break not bend

Let me tell you now
When we catch men doing what the Qur’an bans
We grab them, fetter their feet, and tie their hands
They’ll plummet right on down to the rabid crowd
Who wait with glee, baying “Allahu akbar” loud

Off of the roof is the fate they do deserve
Off of the roof, as our savage god we serve
Oh, let us go and throw them
Off of the roof

When the sons of Lot land, the street will snap their bones
And the mob will finish the wretches off with stones
Let me tell you now
Right smack dab in the middle of town
We’re nearing paradise by throwing the poof
Off of the roof

So if the infidel world starts getting you down
There’s plenty of room in our Muslim army’s ranks
You can wave a black flag and round up those male skanks
And join us as we throw them
Off of the roof…