So now the story has come out about how hook handed Islamofascist Abu Hamza really lost his hands, he told his followers he’d been hurt defusing a landmine in Afghanistan. But according to newspaper reports the truth is he failed to pay attention during a terror training class and they were blown off.
Now there is a moral there about paying attention in class, but according to the papers it seems that hook later begged an al-Qaeda double-agent who knew the real story to hush it up.
It is one of a series of revelations from the spook recruited by Britain to track Osama Bin Laden’s London network. Morocco-born Omar Nasri also told of meeting second hate preacher Abu Qatada, who he described as "really dangerous".
(Maybe one day the real story will come out about how he lost his hands and we will locate that ticking crocodile....)
(A shot of the bile filled hate cleric Abu Hamza-above-who should have been told to sling his hook by the UK years ago.)
Nasri told how an al-Qaeda instructor, Assad Allah, said he had been learning to make nitroglycerine when someone let the materials get too hot. Instead of dumping it in a sink of ice, the trainee dashed for the door with it.
He said: "The mixture exploded, blowing off both his hands and destroying an eye." "Assad said the man was Abu Hamza and was now in London." Nasri later met him at Finsbury Park Mosque.
He said: "I told him, ‘I trained with Assad Allah. He told me how you lost your hands.’
Hamza whispered, ‘Please don’t share that story with anyone’." Nasri told of meeting Qatada — now in a British jail fighting extradition. He told him that fighting in a jihad or holy war was a Muslim’s "highest calling".
Still look on the bright side had Hamza blown himself to that mythical afterlife and the 72 virgin goats he may well have qualified for a Darwin Award as well.
Tags: Capt. Hook
Terrorism
Afghanistan
al-Qaeda
Omar Nasri
Assad Allah
Jihad
Islam
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Tuesday 21 November 2006
Liar liar - Hands On Fire
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2 people have spoken:
Hamza really is the Stan Laurel to Osaama's Oliver Hardy, isn't he?
Oh so true, a regular figure of fun and mirth. Not so much a classic from the old films as Christmas panto at the Skegness hall.
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