False Motivation

That’s a question I ask myself, as I try to prepare a trip to visit the MoA compound there. I don’t necessarily expect violence to break out but reading of similar visits to compounds I definitely don’t plan on going without safeguards. The biggest problem I’m running into is cooperation with the Sheriff’s Office there. The Sheriff is never “in", will not return my phone calls, and no one at the office seems to know anything about the MoA compound except for the fact that it’s there. I can understand not wanting to stir the pot, but who follows the ideology of putting rabid animals where you can see them? You get rid of the rabid animal so it doesn’t harm anyone.

This fear of “offending” Islam is a disease in this country, why do you fear offending people who care nothing for your way of life or your freedoms and would love nothing more than to see those very rights eradicated?

The only real reason I want the Sheriff’s cooperation links to a story in NY of a tourist family that took a picture of a mosque, you know vacation photos. The Muslims there didn’t like it very much and abducted the family, taking them to the basement of the Mosque, taking their cameras and refusing to let them leave until they converted to Islam. Anyone who knows me, knows that if they abducted me they’d never be able to let me go because I’d refuse all the way to my grave to convert. Also, I’d be damned if they were going to keep my $500 video camera, I paid good money for that

So the Dover Trip to the MoA compound is not off, but it is definitely in a stand still as I try to give myself a safety net.

Meanwhile, I have a story of a similar visit to another MoA compound in South Virginia by Dr. Paul L Williams.

JIHAD AMONG JUNIPERS AND MINT JULEPS
RADICAL ISLAM COMES TO FULL BLOOM IN SOUTHERN VIRGINIA


By
Paul L. Williams, Ph.D.
(author of The Day of Islam)
with the able assistance of
Shawn Michaels
Jamal Babour
and
Dr. Hugh Cort

The Islamic practice of taqiyya, meaning “deception” or “concealment,” has been refined into an art-form at a jihad training compound for African American converts near the small town of Red House in Charlotte County, Virginia.

The fifty-acre compound is easy to find since the main road leading to it has been named Sheikh Gilani Lane in honor of the guru and founder of a terrorist organization with close ties to Osama bin Laden. The Board of Supervisors of Charlotte Country are either oblivious to the threat of radical Islam on American soil or clandestine advocates of the great jihad.

At the end Sheikh Gilani Lane is a sign - - barely visible through the overgrown brush - - that reads, “The Muslims of the Americas.” The sign serves to make the place appear as an innocuous religious settlement, until one realizes that The Muslims of the Americas is, in reality, an outgrowth of Jamaat ul-Fuqra, an alleged sister agency to al-Qaeda.

Several weeks before 9/11, a guard house and a gate had been erected at the entrance to the Red House compound.

But the guard house and the gate are now gone, and no sentries - - armed or otherwise - - are in sight, that is until you get well inside the complex of old trailers and pre-fab shanties. The only person to be seen in the the compound is an African American crone in a full black burqa sans the face cover known as a hijab. The day is hot and humid and the burqa serves to give the wizened old woman the appearance of a wayside witch from a Grimm’s fairy tale.

“The men are all gone,” the crone says from a park bench. “No one is here.”

The Red House compound certainly appears deserted. A few mobile homes, several rusty old trailers, and a few mounds of debris among waist-high weeds remain along an old dirt road that runs through the Islamic village, but there appears to be little of interest, let alone concern.

As soon as the investigators park their car and trek into compound, the old woman removes a mobile phone from a sachet and dials a number.

In a matter of minutes, a pick-up truck appears at the entranceway. Two young African Americans dressed in skull caps and jalabiyahs emerge from the vehicle. “What are you doing here?” they ask.

Jamal, an Egyptian journalist, says in Arabic, “I’m here to see the Imam. Where does he live?”

One of the young men, whose Arabic name translates as “Slave of God”, indicates that the Imam is not in and he should knock on the door of a ramshackle blue structure where he was told “Ahmed”, one of the Elders may be found.

Jamal proceeds to the structure and rings the bell, but no one answers. Another member of our investigative team knocks at the doors of the trailers and mobile homes but there is no response. Some of the windows to the homes have been holed up with bricks save for openings that are ideal for assault rifles.

The young African Americans, who have shown up on the scene, are becoming agitated. They begin to make calls on their cell phones.

Then something miraculous happens.

At the Imam’s residence, Muslim men begin to emerge in droves from a small storage shed attached to the house. It seems like a scene from a Marx Brothers movie in which dozens of people pour out of a closet. The investigators are suddenly surrounded by forty or fifty members of the complex in Islamic gowns and white skullcaps. “What brings you here?” they ask….

Read The Rest Here