“And for that we can thank a handful of Muslims,” writes Dan Gardner, who begs: “Censor my book — please!”
In my most secret dreams, Heather Reisman wears black leather chaps and inflicts a little of that boycott action on me. Don’t stop, Heather. Don’t stop.
So please, won’t somebody try to censor me? File complaints with every human rights commission from Toronto to Tuktoyaktuk. Go to the media and call me an Islamophobe. Or a homophobe. Maybe a Harperphobe. Homophone? Hermaphrodite? Whatever. I’ve got a book to sell.