Prophetic Medicine in the Light of Modern Science

Christmas Day and three men were simultaneously up to no good. At varying degrees.

In Melbourne, an enthusiastic brother proclaimed to his fellow students at an Islamic retreat in the Dandenongs: “Recent Biomedical advances provide more scientific evidence for the Divine Truth of Islam. In a recent edition of the Reader’s Digest, there is an article that describes experiments conducted by American scientists, showing that the medical hadiths of Islam reveals conclusively a knowledge of preventive medicine and immunology far beyond anything known at the time of the revelation. For example, the well known hadith of the fly … ”

Meanwhile, inscribed but unaware, somewhere below the ayat of blue skies, above the ayat of the Atlantic seas, a man recited the Opening (but never Really Opened in his life) as he attempted to blow up a plane with plastic explosives hidden in his underpants. Fortunately the attempt was a failure, his fellow passengers overpowering him.

And then there was Herman U. Ticz, who certainly had Opened, but was now deen-drunk, differentiated and dominated, smoking a strong cuban and feeling the full effects of his large brandy at the Club Along the Edge of Time, an establishment located on the fourth floor above the Tailor’s West End boutique.

Continue reading “Prophetic Medicine in the Light of Modern Science”


Re-volution (a party political broadcast on behalf of the Verandah Vanguard )

What follows is a party political broadcast on behalf of the Verandah Vanguard, circa the year 4009AD.

The principles of the Verandah Vanguard have always been rooted in the intrinsic Divinity of Elevated evolution for all things, in Godly growth, in Managed mutation, in Righteous revolution, running through all areas of society like bifircating lines of electric fire, through all sign-to-sign interpretations we might have of Society and the Law, from the communities that comprise the human psyche, to family units and love affairs and philosophies and sciences, to the entire normative understanding of a political State itself.

Everything is in fluent flux, everything is permitted, life is a laboratory and we are chemists in experimentation: but with the Goal that, ultimately, each experiment across all levels leads us closer to a Perfection that permeates through all levels. Through continual flux derives Perfection, true social evolution. Previous revolutions failed because they did not take into account that constant mental re-volution is required for there to be Progress to the Goal: not a single, linguistically interpreted political moment, but a continual dialectic within the Ummatic assembly of the lesser Mind. Let the child be suckled until it has legs to walk!

The Magic Mirror Game

The game's tagline: "Will you be the first princess to look into the eyes of your true love?"

The Professor blogged: just played two rounds of this with my daughter. At the beginning she was tempted to cheat as the rules are rather baroque. You play one of four princesses: Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Beauty (of the Beast) and Cinderella. The board consists of a series of circular series of spaces, upon which a pink heart shaped card is placed face down. There is an electronic magic mirror at the centre of the board. Players take turns to throw the dice, proceeding clockwise or anticlockwise as they wish. When a princess lands on a space, she turns over the associated card and shows it to everyone: if it is an image of her designated princess, she get to “look” into the magic mirror by pressing a button. The mirror displays two images: a prince or the wicked witch. If they mirror shows the wicked witch (Paranoid Imaginary Mother), then the princess can’t keep the card — if the mirror reflects an image of the princess’s associated prince, then she retains the card of her own image. The winner is she who collects four images of their designated princess.

It’s a load of fun and, as my daughter now understands, most fun when one plays by the rules and employs intersubjective logical inference to develop strategies to return to spaces other players have shown to hold desirable cards.

Thoroughly recommended as a Christmas or Eid present for those special princesses in your life. It is available at Toys R Us or Amazon here.

The game’s tagline: “Will you be the first princess to look into the eyes of your true love?”

Muslims in the West

The crypto-Nazis would be the guardians of their indigenous culture. But it is the True Immigrant Muslim who will be the hafiz of that culture, through Islamic literacy.

The crypto-Nazis and general racist bigots say: Islam is a virus that, if unchecked, will overcome our native laws, government and culture, supplanting them with an alien and barbaric shariah. Minarets in Switzerland, hijabs in France, shariah marriage laws in England: the end game will be the repetition of the original story of Islam’s unfolding. Give a dog an inch and then he will take Medina and then Mecca and then whatever else remains, by insidious subtle moves at first, then by the sword and oppression.

The ignorant ummah says: give us our rights. Islam is compatible with modernity — more so, its principles pre-empt modern ideas of progressive economics, science, environmentalism and feminism. Islam is the best of modernity, tempered with and guided by God’s Law. So we demand all the external aspects of our practice, our clothing, our architecture, our sunnah.

The Tailor says:

But do they understand the Real meaning of clothing, architecture and the sunnah? Do they understand what a hijab is? Can they read the architecture of a Masjid? Do they live the sunnah? For the hijab is righteous language. The masjid is all of creation, its minarets are the awtad, the stabilizers, of Reality itself. And the sunnah is literacy.

You would have minarets, awtad, for your Reality. But remember that Pharoah had mastery of the awtad (89: 10), so take care in what you demand, if your demand is made in ignorance or in arrogance.

It is better to turn the other cheek in this particular dispute. For we are not ready. We are not ready. We are not ready.

We have no armor, no Medina, feeble grasp of the Deen, and an inability to read the Qur’an itself, let alone the other books. Who are we to demand any rights in such a state, when we do not understand what “rights” and a “state” are?

Continue reading “Muslims in the West”

Christmas drinks at the Professor’s house

The Professor said:

Last weekend I had my research group over for Christmas drinks and nibbles. We were all in very high spirits: not the least due to Nurzhan, one of my Kazakhstan scholarship students, having just passed his PhD viva.

A highlight I’d like to share with you: my daughter gave her first violin recital to the group. She’s only 4, learning since her last birthday, but has really taken to the instrument this year. Not instantly, by any means: it has been an up and down struggle for her to temper her strong inner creative voice, her pure desire to simply make music, with the discipline of boring practice with its regulatory scales, arpeggios and studies. The breakthrough occurred a few months ago when she exclaimed in delighted self-criticism: “Hey, that really sounds like Edelweisss!” Her teacher says she has progressed by leaps and bounds and is in fact ready for her first exam.

So it was suggested my daughter play a piece for my research group. It’s important not to force these things upon children, but she agreed quickly and I knew she was kind of keen to perform, as she is very extrovert and had been enjoying being something of the centre of attention during the course of the afternoon.

But at the last moment, little violin under chin, the score in front of her, being only 4 years old after all, she suddenly got shy and declared she would not play.

But she agreed to play if her mother Assel placed a curtain between her and the research group. Her mother did so, using my own coat as the veil.

And then she played, perfectly, to this father’s objective ears, the most beautiful rendition of Frère Jacques ever made by living soul.

Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping?
Brother John, Brother John,
Morning bells are ringing, Morning bells are ringing.
Ding, dang, dong, Ding, dang, dong.