Lil' Mohamed

Here is a fun little exercise. Try Googling "The only thing terrorists understand" and see what pops up. Some examples that I see are Force, Brutality, More Power, the Business end of a bullet, or A bullet in the head. That’s just the first few but you get the drift, right? Many Bloggers and experts have used this phrase in some form to get their point across – Terrorists is dumb.
But awhile back I started to wonder to myself, “Are they really that dumb? Is there a chance they might understand something more. Something besides being dead?” So I took it upon myself to get to the bottom of this.
I adopted a terrorist. Here is a picture of Lil’ Mohamed. Isn’t he cute?

Well, anyway, I got him home a decided to get right to it. I was going to teach him some tricks. Or at least try to. We started off with something easy. I gave him some crayons, hoping that he would be able to draw a picture or write something that could prove he was able comprehend more than me just punching him over and over (Which I had done on the drive home already anyway). Here is what he drew.

Clearly, this did not prove any inelligence. I needed to test his skills in some other way. I figured “perhaps he can be taught to drive. Then he could Chauffeur me around.” That was a bad idea. Lil’ Mohamed does not understand what cars are really used for.

I had to punch Lil’ Mohamed many times to teach him a lesson. Blowing up cars is bad. “Very Bad Mohamed!!” He understood the beating pretty well.
Maybe it was still to early to teach him more advanced stuff. I realized that it was way too big of a step to go straight to driving. I needed to back up here. All the way back to the basics. I needed to find out if he could even learn to talk. We spent weeks together. I tried everything to get him to speak. But nothing was working. Even this didn’t get him to talk.
I came to the conclusion that he really did only understand one thing - Beatings. Everything else was too complicated for him to understand. But when I hit him, he knew exactly what I ment. That became my way of comunicating with him. It was our thing, and we loved our times together. It was the only time he had clearity. All the rest of his life was spent in confusion. That’s why I eventually had him put down at the vet. Sometimes my hands hurt to much to keep him enlightened. Well, I’ll miss that Lil’ Mohamed but at least I was able to put that argument to rest.