It's categorized under "Humor," but maybe I need a "Black Humor" category. Iowahawk has a special treat: a first-hand report of the British bombings, from one of the Dr. Evils:

So I said fine, let's draw straws again. Because, hey, what are the odds of me pulling martyrdom duty twice in a row? Guess I should have been a stat major, because there I was holding the short stick again. When Bilal pulled the other short stick, I just went ahead and volunteered my Jeep because I figured the way this day was going it was gonna get blown up one way or the other.

When Bilal and I got back to my house Jumanah had just gotten back from Tesco and was unloading groceries. "I thought you were supposed to be in Paradise by now," she said, in that stupid irritating voice. "Change of plans," I said. "We need to head up to Glasgow to blow up the airport."

Here it came again. The Look.

"Um, and we need to use the Jeep."

The Look X 2.

"And our faces are all over the TV, so we need you to drive us."

I won't even bother trying to describe her face at that point. We loaded up the rest of the explosive cannisters in the back of the Jeep and headed north on the M1 in the middle of the out-of-town holiday rush traffic. Jumanah pretty much seethed the entire way, complaining about the traffic and the gasoline fumes. Needless to say when we finally got to Glasgow and dropped her off at a roadside cafe, I was pretty much geared up for the sweet release of death.

Okay, so Bilal and I get psyched up, check all the equipment to make sure it's ready for a big boom, point the Jeep at the terminal, and mash the throttle. I'm shouting "Allahu Akbar," and Bilal's shouting "Allahu Akbar" and "Go Martyrs" just like the old pep squad days at CJU. And I'm thinking, "oil up them virgins Allah, 'cause Dr. K's luck is about to change." BAAAAM! Right into the glass.

I was probably out for a two, three seconds. Bilal and I peeled our broken noses out of the airbags, which meant we were still alive, which meant the goddamn cannisters didn't explode, again. Maybe we went through into the terminal and killed some infidels, I thought, then I saw we hadn't made it in more than a couple inches into the terminal. I mean, WTF? The Jeep salesman kept going on about how the Jeep was this awesome unstoppable American SUV that crusader cowboys use to bulldoze their way through mountain forests, with an easy payment plan, and the damn thing can't make it through a bloody plate glass window. I restart the engine and now the piece of shit just sits there spinning the tyres. "All wheel traction," my arse.

Even knowing it is a humor piece, I am still struck again with the references to many virgins in the afterlife. I'm positive this has been done to death elsewhere that I don't feel like researching. Virgins would seem to lack a certain degree of experience and skill. Why so many, rich fantasy life? Is there such a feeling of inadequacy that they want girls too ignorant to know the difference? Why do they need the girls to be virtual slaves, are they that bad at whatever?

Even though it's a humor piece, I wonder the serious aspects to this stuff. Just not enough to spend hours checking it out on questionable websites.

Traditionally, virginity has been valued by ancient societies, not for the erotic skill of the virgin (though some societies actually made efforts to inculcate such, while keeping her technically a virgin) but because it was a psychological boost to male egos to be the first and (secondarily, which probably reinforced the first reason, from an evolutionary standpoint) because it provided more assurance that the issue of the consummation would be that man's and not someone else's.

I'm sure what you said is true, Rand, but the islamonutz are just sexually inadequate losers who probably can't get it up even with a double dose of viagra. Their best sex (probably their only sex) is in their fantasies.

Virgins would seem to lack a certain degree of experience and skill.

You're missing the point. Its not the virgins, its the virgins serving your every wish. Its just power over others in the afterlife. Again, always remember that the people who carry out these acts of violence are either true nutcases, or weak-willed pawns of someone else. The pawns may or may not believe the religious trash he's been told, but carries out his assignment, while the mastermind sits behind the scenes and plans more violence, which would lead me to believe that the virgins in the afterlife don't matter to the mastermind because he already has the power he craves.