Left to Right, Douglas V. Gibbs, Walid Shoebat, Kamal Saleem, Mama Pistachio


Last Wednesday night I spent my evening at the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA) at the invitation of Walid Shoebat to see Shoebat, and Kamal Saleem, speak before a couple thousand college students about the danger Islam poses to this world.

Jack Marino, director of the film "Forgotten Heroes" joined my modest group for lunch in Westwood Village prior to the start of our evening at UCLA. We discussed politics, religion, Jack's film, and my cousin's visit to California from Arkansas. She recently graduated from high school, and her graduation present was to come to California to meet with family she has not had the opportunity to meet, or spend time with, before. Armed with her high speed camera (a photography enthusiast, after all) she was excited about the evening that lay before her. Upon arrival to Royce Hall on the UCLA campus, where the event for the evening was scheduled to take place, I greeted Keith Davies (Walid Shoebat's close friend) with a firm handshake. Keith's contact with the

Bruin Republicans had made the event possible, and Keith's graciousness was the reason I had tickets waiting for me at the Will Call window. Entering the auditorium, I called Annie Hamilton on my cell phone. She waved so that I could locate her, and I shook her hand gladly as we met in person for the first time. Annie is one of my fellow writers over at American Daily Review, as well as a well-known conservative voice across the Internet. I asked her regarding the where-abouts of General Paul Vallely, and she directed me to his location. Upon meeting the General, he was thrilled to see that I had made it. We had spoken on the phone the day before, and he had been eager to meet the second half of the partnership of the quickly rising site, American Daily Review.

Major General Vallely is retired U.S. Army, and was a Military Anylist for Fox News from 2002-2007. He still frequents Fox News, as well as other television and radio programs, while also writing for American Daily Review, and serving as Founder, and Chief of Operations, for Stand Up America. After a brief conversation with General Vallely, my companions and I found our seats near the front of the auditorium. General Vallely took the stage and introduced our speakers.

Walid Shoebat was the first to stand at the microphone, and as always, he delivered a presentation that held no punches, and contained no political correctness. Walid Shoebat, no stranger to Islam, was born and raised in Bethleham, Israel by his Arab father, and American mother. He grew up a terrorist, reminded by his father that his paternal grandfather was an associate of Haj-Ameen Al-Husseni, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, who was an ally of Adolf Hitler who conspired with the Nazis during the holocaust. The Grand Mufti is a man of whom many believe was the inspiration for Hitler's anti-semitism. Originally a member of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), searching for a more radical organization, Walid Shoebat joined The Muslim Brotherhood (for-runner of Hamas).

He came to America to begin a terrorist cell, and for cover, he married an American woman. His wife, a Mexican-American Catholic, defied Walid's attempts to convince her to convert to Islam. When Shoebat explained to her the errors in the Bible, and how the Jews had influenced passages to the point of them being untruthful, Walid's wife challenged him to examine the Bible, provide her with evidence of the errors, and compare it to the Quran to show that the Islamic scripture was the actual truth. While taking up his wife's dare in 1993, Walid came to the conclusion that the Bible was the true Scripture, and that he was "On the wrong side."

Now, Walid professes, "Only biblical truth has transferred my way of thinking from being a follower of Muhammad and idolizing Adolph Hitler to believing in Jesus Christ. From believing lies, to knowing the truth, from being spiritually sick to healed, from living in darkness to see the light, from being damned to saved, from doubt to faith, from hate to love, and from evil works to God's grace through Christ. The wonderful thing about God is that when someone sincerely and humbly cries out to Him to help him or her find the truth, He always answers that prayer. Today I am a Christian."

On stage Walid Shoebat answered the criticisms he receives regarding his change to Christianity from Islam. The attacks normally charge him of speaking out against Islam for money, or fame. Walid's opponents accuse him of trading one extremism (one of terror) to another extremism (Christian Fundamentalism). "Christians and Muslims," said Walid, "are hardly the same. While Christians may give liberals a headache, Muslims would cut off their heads." Walid discussed the tenets of Islam at length, explaining the indoctrination of death Muslim Children receive, the hatred for America and the Jews prevalent in Muslim society, and the lessons on how to kill non-Muslims taught to children while at an early age. He described the death and hate filled lyrics of the songs he learned as a child, and the message of Islamic superiority that could only be fully realized in a world where Islam dominates as the one and true religion, and sole political ideology. In the last days the nations described in the Bible as coming against Israel, if you read biblical text carefully, are all today's Islamic nations. How could the Bible be so accurate on which nations would be Muslim, and therefore against Israel, long before Islam even existed?

All descriptions in the Quran of Islam's role run parallel to the teachings in the Bible that describes the darkness that will blanket this planet. In Biblical prophecy, every portrayal of Christ's return to the Earth is of Christ fighting a nation that today is Muslim. Walid poses the question, "If Allah and the God of the Bible are one and the same, then why does the Bible constantly portray God on the side of Israel, and against the Muslims?"

In 1993 Walid read in Isaiah 10:34 that "the Lord, Jehovah Almighty would lop off the boughs of the 'great cedar' with great power, and Lebanon will fall before the Mighty One." Walid took this to mean that Hezbollah (the party of Allah) would gain a foothold in the once dominantly Christian country of Lebanon. Today they have infested the whole nation. Islam desires to destroy Christianity, America, and to exterminate every Jew on the face of the planet. Then, when those enemies are gone, they will turn on the rest. They will eliminate "enlightenment," hang homosexuals by the neck, and reverse centuries of progress that manifests itself in technology, civil rights, and women's freedoms. They will build mosques and Islamic centers by the thousands across this planet, and will enforce Sharia law everywhere. They have been patient, waiting for this opportunity since the seventh century. There's is a holy war against Christianity and Judaism, and as The West abandons those faiths, they are turning away from the only spiritual defense they have against the coming world caliphate. Trading land for peace, or peace treaties, may work in the short run, but in the long run Islam believes that Israel must be destroyed, and the world must fall completely under Islamic rule. No amount of diplomacy, or appeasement will stop them. The only defense is to understand the nature of the enemy, and fight against that enemy with an understanding that they must be stopped, by any means.

Hamal Saleem echoed a similar message, relaying the stories of his youth in a descriptive, and often physically articulated, manner. Hamal was all over the stage, discussing his childhood, and the training he received to hate Israel, and to hate America, dropping to his knee, at one point, to demonstrate training as a terrorist.

Saleem explained how everything for the Muslims are going according to plan. They taught him as a child that the goal was to infiltrate The West from within, and to beat the infidels by pure numbers. Having babies is their most powerful weapon. Eventually, Islam will outnumber the Europeans and Americans, and simply vote them out of power - enslaving and killing the remaining people that reject Islam.

A Sunni Muslim from Lebanon, as a young boy Hamal Saleem sought refuge in a mosque that eventually led him to a terror training camp run by Yasser Arafat's Fatah organization. His journey in terrorism led him around the world, where his goal was the eventual one world under Islam. When he came to America, however, the clash of cultures forced him to reevaluate his understandings of truth and faith. Saleem became a member of the Christian faith he once tried to destroy, and realized he needed to speak out against the dangers of radical Islam.

After two hours, the presentation came to an end. Keith and I met up, and he led me, and my group, back stage so that we could meet with Walid and Kamal. One of Walid's assistants, as the group approached us, was urging Walid to hurry up because dinner reservations were nearly upon them, and they hadn't even departed from Royce Hall, yet. Keith, at that time, spoke up and announced to Walid, "This is Douglas, from Political Pistachio." Walid's eyes opened wide. He grinned, as if more excited to meet me than I was to meet him. After all, Mr. Shoebat has been a guest on my radio program a number of times. As we firmly shook hands, he said to me, "So you are the man behind he mike. I enjoy it when I appear on Political Pistachio. I remember when you allowed my son on the show as well, and I greatly appreciated that. Your blog is also mine, and my son's, favorite. We read it often."

A fervent conversation broke out as Walid's assistant kept glancing nervously at his watch. My mother, standing beside me, told Walid that she and my dad visited Israel last year, and it provided memories that would last a lifetime. Walid then asked my mom, "When you arrived in Israel, did you feel like you were coming home?"

Mom responded, "I felt like my spirit had finally come home."

Listening to the discussion, and eager to say something as the assistant that was pointing at his watch forced an end to the meeting, Kamal Saleem says to me, "Political Pistachio? I have heard a lot about you. Can I please be on your show." We exchanged cards, and I promised him I would be calling his Director in the coming week. My cousin snapped a few pictures with her massive camera that reminded me of the ones the press uses, and then the former terrorists departed, waving enthusiastically as they walked away. Keith patted me on the back and thanked me for coming. Walid smiled as a friend does to a fellow friend.

Jack Marino, my mom, and my cousin exploded into conversation. They were excited about the evening, and the opportunity to meet these great men. I was thankful to the Lord for providing me with the opportunity, as well. This was only a small, initial step in understanding what has come upon us as a nation. The need to inform the public of the grave dangers we face as a nation has become a dire one.

I thank God for great men like Walid Shoebat and Kamal Saleem, and their willingness to spread the word. As we turned the corner to rejoin the rest of the mob, the protesters out front of Royce Hall had dispersed.

In the main hall that leads to the back side of the building, and the path to our parking location, we once again bumped into Major General Paul Vallely. He stopped, and we shook hands once again. My mom told the General about my nephew, Branden, who desires to grow up and become president someday. Branden wrote President Bush a letter a year ago, and a personally written, and signed letter, from the president came back, along with a photograph of Bush. The kid watches Fox News as often as he can, to the point that my brother doesn't allow it in his house anymore - forcing Branden's Fox News viewing opportunities to be when he visits his grandma. Vallely got a kick out of the story, and was more than happy to write a note, and autograph it, to Branden. Then, after a quick snap of a picture, General Vallely bid me farewell, and joined his waiting group farther down the hall.

Jack Marino, still with us after all of that, thanked me for the invite. He then climbed into his vehicle and drove away, leaving me smiling, and waving, standing with my mom and cousin in an empty parking garage at UCLA.

A Final Farewell to General Vallely (center)

Today is Mother's Day, 2009. I am the eldest of 3. I married my high school sweetheart 25 years ago, and despite the rough twenty years that began our marriage, in the last five years we have reached a level of happiness as a couple that cannot be explained in a simple blog post.

As the father of two, and the grandfather of two, hindsight is twenty-twenty. I now look at my parents with a set of eyes I did not possess when I was younger. Mom, after a very short marriage to my biological father, married a man that had just finished a tour in Vietnam as a United States Marine. He is technically my step-dad, but he will forever be "Dad."

Mom was an only child, and he was the fourth of eight kids. She grew up in a nearly typical suburban setting without brothers or sisters to fight with, while he spent a lot of time as a child on a dairy farm in Arkansas, and part of his life bouncing around suburban areas in California, nearly as if he was chasing mom during his childhood, meanwhile fighting daily with his siblings. They seemed like an unlikely couple, and sometimes they were. It was mom, though, that always held things together.

Dad worked hard, showing his love through his dedication to provide for the family. Often, that is how men show their love. Mom stayed at home, and though at the time I considered her limited (since my eyes were not as wise and understanding as they are now), I never realized she was more of a mother than I could ever realize.

Dad often worked long hours, sometimes more than one job, and his day always ended with his head slumped back (mouth open) while he slept in the recliner chair in front of the television. His daily labor provided food on the table, and the slow progression from apartment living in rough neighborhoods to a modest home in an outlying suburban area just south of Corona.

Mom was always there for homework, baseball games (practically the team mom every time, even if she wasn't technically the team mom), cross-country meets, and prayer. Every Sunday she ensured we were in church, even if dad preferred to stay home and dicker around the house, or watch the NFL. She bought us Bibles, took us to school, and hosted slumber parties full of rowdy friends from school. She was a referee when us kids began to fight, a detective when nobody owned up to bad behavior, and a chef when we were all hungry. He disciplined us, and she warned us she'd tell him of our misbehavior if we didn't straighten up. Dad rarely had a chance to sit and relax, until he hit the recliner at night, and mom rarely stopped cleaning, mixing Kool-aid, telling us kids to clean our rooms, and cooking to keep the home his castle.

As I grew up in that household, I watched mom with untrained and immature eyes. Not realizing the error of my understanding, I always wondered why mom didn't get a job to help dad pay for things. Most of my friends had moms that worked, and it seemed strange that my mom expected my dad to pay for everything. I saw how much he sacrificed to take care of his family, and mom not only didn't work, but sometimes it seemed like her emotions were always getting the best of her. He provided a great example for me to emulate, but I sometimes wished mom had a little more on the ball when it came to being a part of the big wide world. Her lack of willingness to participate in an ever-changing world that included working moms concerned me. I almost began to resent her, a little, for making the poor man work so hard, while contributing so little to the financial well-being of the family. Sure, she was dependable at home, there for us at all times, and she was the main reason we went to church, but from an economic point of view, I foolishly sometimes saw her more as a hindrance, than anything.

I married at 18, and my wife was a working girl, even if it was a job at a fast food restaurant. I appreciated the help as we began our lives together relatively poor, living in a difficult neighborhood, and struggling just to put food on the table. Because of our schedules we often saw each other rarely, and as a Navy man, when sea-time came, sometimes I would not see her for months at a time. But, we were both working, both contributing, and both happy with our careers of the moment.

My wife was not necessarily a feminist, but I suppose she was about as close as you could get to becoming one without actually being one. However, as she realized our son was needing her more and more, and it broke her heart having him babysat all the time, even if the folks watching him were trusted family and friends, she eventually asked me if she could stop working. At first I was bothered by the request. Was she trying to be more like my mom? Did she not wish to contribute to the economic stability of our family anymore?

I agreed to allow her to quit working, and immediately the changes in our lives became apparent. Our son was happier, now that mom was home, and I began to enjoy a cleaner home and the occasional meal on the table when I got home from a long day at work. Eventually, she got to the point where she was up with me in the early morning hours, making me breakfast and packing me a lunch. It was difficult becoming the sole bread winner, but her contribution to making my life easier as I worked my fingers to the bone to provide, was greatly appreciated.

It wasn't until many years of marriage passed when I finally stopped and began to analyze my childhood. I looked back at my mom, viewing her in a different light than I had before. Dad wasn't sacrificing as I assumed, because he actually wanted to provide for his family, and he did it by putting his best foot forward in every job he held. Mom, happy to do for him, made sure that none of us kids had to sacrifice anything. She made breakfast, packed lunches, and had dinner hot on the table when dad walked in the door. And her emotions were not as debilitating as I thought. After all, her tears she sometimes shed were not of anger, but of love, and sometimes frustration, as life changed, and her babies were babies no longer. It must have been difficult watching the children she had poured so much love and time into grow up, replace her with a spouse, and leave without really giving her a proper goodbye.

Mom provided us with faith-based foundations that included lessons in values, standards, and love. Her strength made childhood easy, and looking back I realize she was a much stronger person than I ever was willing to admit. In fact, to my surprise, I realized that she was the rock of the family. Mom was the one that could always be depended on. Her love and support was like clockwork. Her faith and love a solid foundation for a family that needed her dearly.

My folks are still married, and now for all those years of being there for him, Dad is doing more for her in the form of adding to the house, and buying her the nice things she could never have while kids were running wildly around through the house.

Now, as I watch my wife, and her growth as a wife and a mother, I realize that she has given me the same gift my mom gave Dad. She is always there for me, providing a home, rather than simply a house, and doing for me in ways that I never dreamed she would. We have become friends, cherished lovers, and dependable servants to each other - and it has made our marriage stronger. I no longer expect her to do anything, and in response, she does everything - just as mom did for dad. In response, it makes me want to provide all I can for her, to be a better man, to make her life as enjoyable as I can.

And I think I appreciate my wife more, as I look back at my childhood, because of mom. It was because mom provided an example of what a mom and a wife ought to be, that I recognize how wonderful of a mother and wife my wife has become. And it is because of mom instilling morals, values, and the love of God in me that I am able to truly appreciate all that my wife has become.

Thanks mom, for your courage, caring, and love. Thanks for being a cook, nurse, referee, detective, and cleaning lady. Thanks for scolding me, loving me, cheering me on, and telling dad when I went too far with my mischief. And thanks to my lovely wife, too, for continuing the example of what a mom ought to be. My love for these two women in my life is boundless, and I cannot thank either of them enough, other than to say it is because of them that my life is truly blessed.

Thank you, and Happy Mother's Day.

"She watches over the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed;
Her husband also, and he praises her:
"Many daughters have done well,
But you excel them all."
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands,
And let her own works praise her in the gates."

(Proverbs 31:27-31)

Those of you that enjoy my posts here on MySpace, I have been silent of late.  It does not mean that I have not been writing, but that simply I have not had the time to cross post on all my sites.  If you would like to see what I have been up to, visit me at www.politicalpistachio.com, or check out my articles on www.americandailyreview.com, and www.canadafreepress.com.
Thank you.
Doug