VICE News has dropped part two of its mesmerizing five-part behind-the-scenes look at the "Islamic State," and it is a maddening inside look at how the militant movement sweeping Iraq and Syria recruits young boys, uses UN humanitarian aid, and hides away women.
Filmmaker Medyan Dairieh's embedded tour with the takfiri assholes—a group formerly known as the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant—picks up where it left off: following Abu Mosa, the Islamists' jerky PR flack who hates all things secular and Western (except, of course, for his polarized Ray-Bans).
Dairieh follows the bearded bros through the streets of their recently-declared capital, the Syrian city of Raqqa, which is weirdly devoid of women. All the better for boys to practice their homosocial religious militancy.
These dudes have a "preaching van," a creepy-ass camper that purveys sharia secrets and is driven by "Abdullah the Belgian," whose mercurial mood swings are reminiscent of itinerant Southern tent-revival preachers here in the States. Here's Abdullah leading his son through a bone-chillingly asinine show of religious macho bravado:
If you watch the entire sequence, you'll get a distinct sense that Abdullah's son is not entirely sold on the notion of killing people. But dads get what dads want.
Not that Abdullah needs his son to do his crazy for him:
Then there's Daoud. Daoud is 14 and has a rat-tail mullet and wants to kill some infidels.
Every group of 14-year-old boys has at least one of these kids in it, destined for raging dickdom.
Later that night, at the all-Islamic State recruiting hootenanny (also a no-girls affair), you might notice something weird:
Behind the emcee is a tarp emblazoned with the logo of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Sure enough, before the Islamic State was declared, this part of Syria—like every other part—was ravaged by that country's civil war, and the UNHCR undertook herculean efforts to get blankets, tents, mattresses, and other supplies to refugees in the area. Supplies that the Islamists now use for their own purposes.
Those purposes include some of the lamest DJ call-and-responses ever:
But hey, the kids are into it.
Maybe instead of bombs we should be dropping Kindles with Disney movies on these boys. Also, where are your moms? No, really. What have your pubescent Kalashnikov-trainers done with them?