ISIS Is Obviously Mocking Me, by Nearly Headless Nick

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington

Beheading is a brutal method of execution, as I well know.  Especially if performed improperly. But insult is a more grievous offense. It therefore injures me, in ways that an axe can no longer, to witness the cavalier use of beheadings in Iraq and Syria, as if declaring that any respectable execution would involve total decapitation. As opposed to that of you-know-who, wink wink. It hurts, I must confess.

No, not that You-Know-Who. Don’t be silly. And in the context of the previous paragraph it should say you-know-whom. Object of a preposition, you see. Basic grammar is one of the hallmarks of a dignified bearing, which I always strive to maintain. It can be difficult sometimes, when one’s head is not fully connected to one’s neck, but we of noble lineage long ago learned to shrug off, as it were, the petty indignities.

But outright offense? Well, I daresay even we aristocrats do not shrug that off so easily. It takes a certain focus to successfully behead a human, so clearly the brutes of ISIS fully intend to mock me by repeatedly showing all of us how easy it is. Look here! It’s an American journalist! OK, now let’s do a whole village of Christians! See? Like a hot knife through neck! Easy! I take it quite personally.

Not that I can do much. We who have chosen a pale imitation of life instead of embracing Death when it comes have little to say to those whose cult is Death itself. And in this state of limbo we ghosts can accomplish precious little, short of persuading the still-fully-alive to act in a certain way. But the people with the capacity to do anything about that offensive Levantine behavior would be struck dead themselves if a ghostly figure were to appear before them. I daresay it is a conundrum.

Well, when all else fails, I must strive to maintain my dignity. I therefore resolve to soldier on through this misfortune, knowing that one day, those barbarians will also be the stuff of history. Like Robespierre, they will one day find themselves on the receiving end of justice. When that day comes, this ghost will not complain if it takes more than forty-five swings of the executioner’s axe to sever their craniums from their torsos.