‘Allah is not shy of the truth’

THE fine people at Ex-Muslims of North America shared a striking item today about Muhammad wanting people not to hang around at his house hoping for a meal but being too bashful to say so, “so Allah created a verse for it.” Quran 33:53, they added, so that we could all share the treat.

Here we go:

O you who believe, do not enter the houses of the Prophet, unless you are permitted for a meal, not (so early as) to wait for its preparation. But when you are invited, go inside. Then, once you have had the meal, just disperse, and (do) not (sit for long) being keen for a chat. This (conduct of yours) hurts the Prophet, but he feels shy of (telling) you (about it), but Allah is not shy of the truth.

Allah said that. Isn’t that beautiful? Allah was nice enough and generous enough and had enough free time to see that the Prophet didn’t like having all these boring hungry tactless guys lounging around his house hoping for a nice meal or at least a sandwich, but was too shy and awkward and socially insecure to tell them so. What an Allah this Allah is! Nobody else has one as good as that.

So Allah got to work and wrote it all down, telling the lounging guys not to go to the Prophet’s house as if it were a bus station or a public library, unless – this is crucial now – they’ve been invited for a meal. This is a god, mind you, not Mo’s flatmate from university or next door neighbor but an actual god, in fact the god, so the grasp of detail and the willingness to spend the time are pretty impressive.

Don’t go to Mo’s house unless you’re invited for a meal, and if you are invited for a meal for fuck’s sake don’t show up early. What’s the matter with you?? The guy is nice enough to throw together some spag bog or you and you show up early? What, so that he can give you a pre-meal meal? You want beans on toast too?

Or you just want to wait around while Mo is cooking, so that you can watch him and get on his nerves and probably make him burn himself? What’s that about? It’s not enough that he takes all the notes on this religion I’m giving him, and shares them with you, now he has to keep you entertained all day too? Act like you got good sense! Give the guy room to breathe.

Also … damn you guys are a lot of trouble…also go inside, don’t stand around on the damn porch talking and smoking and making noise so the neighbors will complain. Mo isn’t running some kind of clubhouse for you guys.

Are we clear? You don’t go unless you’re invited, you don’t show up early, you go inside when you get there, and then when you’ve stuffed your faces, gtfo. Leave. Go home, or go to the bar or the pool hall or Mama Lucy’s House of Hot Girls or wherever, but get out of Mo’s house, you got me?

You shouldn’t be there for more than half an hour. How long does it take to eat a modest little meal suitable for a new religion? Not that long. Stuff your face, offer to help with the dishes, tell Mo to say hi to the little lady upstairs, and then go. No don’t linger hoping for a chat – any chatting Mo does he does with me, because I have a lot of stuff to say and he takes dictation slowly.

Ok then, glad we got that straight.

What time is it? Ok I have a few more minutes free. While you’re here, I just want to add a thing or two. Alcohol, that’s one – it’s bad, and you can’t have it. It’s bad, and it’s forbidden, and if anybody ask you who says, tell them I do. Pork, also. I mean look at pigs – you want to eat that? Gross.

Eat all the cattle and goats and porcupines you want, but no pigs. Also you should so some self-denial stuff, it’s good exercise plus it’s funny for me to watch. A month of fasting, that’s what – nil by mouth for a calendar month. Hahahaha just kidding – only during daylight. Once the sun goes down you can stuff.

Aaand let’s see – oh yes women. Ugh. Keep them locked up. Make them wear blankets over their heads if they do have to go out. I don’t know, cut two little holes for the eyes or something, use your brain. If they get frisky anyway, or you think they’re getting frisky, kill them. Easiest way is bury them up to the chin and let the stones fly.

What else? Dogs. I hate dogs. Dirty, smelly, and they lick their crotches right in front of you. No dogs. No gin, no bacon, no Labrador Retrievers. Allah is wise, merciful. Now get out of here, I have an earthquake to arrange.

Editor’s note: The hell-fire image appears in Mohammed’s Believe It or Else by Abdullah Aziz which you can download free here.