"At a recent Thanksgiving dinner with family and friends in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, I was struck by how much they still did. There were eight of us, all Muslims, from assorted backgrounds and levels of religious commitment. Over generous helpings of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and stuffing, we found ourselves talking about the scourge of terrorism and the responsibility of Muslims to say and do something about it. Soon enough, we were talking about Yazid, the second caliph of the Umayyad Empire, killing and beheading the prophet Muhammad’s grandson, Hussein, at the Battle of Karbala in the seventh century. It was like an open wound, and here we were once again, as so many had before us, trying to make sense of how and why something so unspeakable could have happened. This was the prophet’s family, his flesh and blood. And yet Hussein and all of his men were slaughtered, their bodies left to rot for 40 days."

Man, I'll tell ya. I, Benjamin Harris, have had sixty Thanksgiving dinners, many of them in Pennsylvania. I cannot remember a one where the slaughter of Hussein and all his men and their rotting bodies came up "over generous helpings of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and stuffing." Not one.