June 21, 2007

Endless Beginnings...


For God's sake, tell me where to begin?

I was set out to write about Father's day and the thousands of fatherless Iraqi children.The thousands of killed fathers, the thousands of fathers trying desperately hard to feed their families, daily putting their lives at great risk, in a country gripped by demonic violence. The exiled fathers, selling scraps in Amman and Damascus, bearing the brunt of daily insults. Or the unemployed fathers, feeling torn inside watching their kids go hungry. Or maybe the head bent down father, slouched posture, hiding scars beneath a worn out shirt. The father that has been imprisoned, humiliated, tortured and sodomized, unable to look his children in the eyes...

Or maybe I should write about sexual torture and sodomy instead...

The further horrors emerging from Abu Ghraib and the Taguba report...
More reports of "abuse". And I am sure Abu Ghraib is not over. I am certain that more Abu Ghraibs are taking place in Iraq, in those shadowy detention centers...
Abu Ghraib.
An American brave boy caught with his pants down, sodomizing an Iraqi female detainee. I cannot stomach the scene and will prepare a longer post on that, to expurgate your filth... Torn rectums and feces come to mind.

Wait, I think I will write about feces instead...

An orphanage in Baghdad. 24 young boys founds laying naked in their own pool of excrements, starved, covered with feces and flies, hands tied to bare metal beds.
With the "liberation", the main orphanage of Baghdad was bombed. Of course no one spoke of that one. Hundreds of children took to the streets and were trafficked in, traded in.
UNICEF wrote a brief report on it but then it disappeared from their website.
Trading in dollars for each child's head, like in a slave market, exported to neighboring Gulf countries as...only Allah knows as what...

Heads and more heads...Perhaps I need to write about rolling heads...

A leaked autopsy report from the Iraqi ministry of Health (what an oxymoron that title is) states that Barzan Al-Tikriti's head was very slowly slit with a sharp instrument whilst his body showed bruises from kicks. They slowly severed his head, very slowly and kicked his jolting body at the same time, in another pool of blood...

Severed...Wait, maybe I should write about forced circumcision in Basrah. A public castration. Another bloody scene.

Mahdi Militiamen (remember Mahdi, your darling drill boy?)rounded up a group of Sabaeans. Sabaeans are one of the oldest "ethnic" groups in Iraq, converting them by force. At gun and drill point, they agreed to embrace the Mahdi creed.
An old Sabaean of 70 years, with a beard reaching his belly, was circumcised.
Bloody severed foreskin.

Did I say blood? Which reminds me of Othman's blood clot, stuck in his leg...

"Layla I need some blood thinner, I need aspirin - Help me for God's sake".
Othman cannot leave the house, cannot get to a pharmacy, cannot see a doctor. Snipers, checkpoints, fear..."They are burying me alive at home"...he says.

Buried alive at home...Yes this is what I will be writing about.

Alia was driving her car with Auntie Sameera to get some gasoline.
Suddenly, her car was riddled with bullets. They were lucky.
A man in black walks up to her.

- What have you done? You nearly killed all of us.
- Why did you not stop?
- I did not see you. There is no uniform, no checkpoint, no nothing.
- I waved.
- I did not see you. I am sorry.
- I do not want your apology. I want you to go home and stay there. I never want to see your face in this neighborhood again. You are to stay at home where you belong.



Home, a home...any home...I think I will write about that instead.

Marwan is a Palestinian Iraqi. This is how he defines himself.

"I do not know where my family is. They are stranded somewhere in the desert, between Syria and Iraq. Layla, I already lost 4 of them in Baladiyat. I regret Saddam so much..."

Ah regrets and nostalgia...Maybe I need to write about this instead.

Salman, an Iraqi shia. An staunch anti-Saddam says to me.

"There is no end to this dark tunnel, Layla. Give us back a strong government, with an iron fist. I would pay anything to have that back..."

Did I hear pay ? Pay, paychecks...

Now check this one out.
I mentioned in one of my posts that a junior member of parliament in the Green Zone brothel makes 30'000 dollars a month plus fringe benefits. Now do you want to know how much the matron makes? No joke here.

Jalal Talabani makes 1 million dollars A MONTH plus fringe benefits. This heavy hooker has pocketed in 2 years, 24 million dollars! Whilst the majority of the Iraqis don't have a piece of bread...

Bread...That reminds me of Nadia's husband. After being sacked from his job as an accountant, he took up the job of a baker. I just learned that he has typhoid.
Raging fevers in raging Iraq...


So kindly tell me, where would you like me to start? Pick and choose.

Fatherless day, orphans in feces, sodomy Americana, blood pools, home burials, severed heads, public castrations, erring homelessness, regrets and nostalgia or how to make a million bucks per month in Iraq? Or maybe I need to stop here and put out this fever?

So when you decide, let me know. But do remember there is no end in sight...

Now, If you don't mind, I would like to go and crawl into some corner, take up a foetal position and vanish...Vanish from these endless beginnings, vanish from my own powerlessness, vanish far away....

THE END.


Painting: Iraqi artist, Dr.Talib Al-Allaq.

June 17, 2007

Brothel politics...



Many send me emails and leave comments insulting me.
The typical classics, variations on the same theme go like this :
"Bitch, hag, old cunt, fuck you, fuck your family, fuck Iraq, eat shit and die...
You are a zionist, a mossad agent, a CIA agent, a sellout, a Baathist whore, an Arab whore, a cock sucking whore, a Wahabi whore, a Saddam whore..." ad infinitum.

Then, there are threats : "We know who you are, we will get you, count your days, we will fuck you, you can no longer hide...etc..."

None actually really move me.
Only yesterday, I received yet another one which I found slightly interesting.
It said: "You dirty whore, you miss Saddam. Fuck you"...
Now I can relate to that one.

No, it is not the fuck bit. We all know by now that men who repeat the word fuck too often, usually fail to deliver...Nor the whore bit, I find that rather over used...
What resonated within was " You miss Saddam". That last bit touched me.

As a matter of fact, I do miss Saddam.

Again, no, it has nothing to do with a father figure fixation...
Neither it has anything to do with belonging to a political party.
Actually, I have never been a member of any political party and I am not sure any political party would want me as a member either.

Faithful to the Marx philosophy, no not Karl but Groucho who said " I would never want to belong to a club that would accept me as a member" or something along those lines...

Am too independent in my head and therefore perceived as too unruly to belong to anything or to anyone.

I am not even a Saddamist. I am not sure what a Saddamist means anyways.
Bush and Al-Maliki first coined this term, so it can't be all too bright.
Can it now?

But yes I do miss Saddam and I wish he were still alive. I wish he was still ruling Iraq.

Someone from Latin America wrote to me once, asking me to describe what Iraq was like in the 80's , prior to the embargo and the sanctions.
So I wrote back a fairly long email, giving this person details of what Iraq was like.
I touched upon nearly every aspect of Iraqi society. Infrastructure, agriculture, health care, education, women's position, the arts, sports...
I re-read what I wrote several times and thought to myself, goodness, we were really in many aspects a "developed" country. And that, despite a long war with our wonderful neighbor, Iran.

So yes I do miss Saddam. As a matter of fact, I will even go further and state unequivocally that I wished that Saddam was still ruling not only Iraq but the whole of the Arab speaking world. Because I can assure, that if that had happened, you would no longer have something called "occupied" Palestine...Palestine would have been free by now.


But getting back to the "whore" business...
You see in the whore business there are many kinds of whores.
There are the obvious ones and the not so obvious ones, i.e the hidden ones.

Now the obvious whores of the Brothel are there for all to see, it is clear cut.
For instance in the Iraqi brothel, you have whores likes Sistani, Muqtada al Sadr, Al Maliki, Hakeem and Co - These are the whores for Iran.
Then you have Talabani, Barazani, Zebari etc... These are the whores for Israel
And both categories pimp for America.

We call them swinger whores...and swinger pimps...You know what I mean. Right?

In the Middle East Brothel, you also have several categories of whores...
For instance, there are whores for Iran, like Hezbollah, Hamas, Syria and you have whores for Israel like Al Saud, Abdallah, the Al- Gulf sheikhs, Mubarak, Seniora, Abu Mazen...etc

You also have undecided whores, like Ghaddafi...

On a regional level, you also have whores. The Iran whore, the Turkey whore...and I will leave it to you to figure out who their ultimate pimps are.

So you see when you call a simple female blogger like myself a whore, you are really missing the bigger picture.

The whore business is a complex one. Multi layered. And each whore is someone else's pimp and so and so forth... Yes, Brothel politics are a complicated story.

And the real pimps are the ones who reap the most benefit and profit. Politically, economically, strategically, geographically...etc

But the whore story does not stop here...You also have the "Left" whore...And her pimps are none other than her "intellectuals", who in turn are whores for even "higher" intellectuals...

So yes, I do miss Saddam.
I miss the man who kept the unity of Iraq. Who developed it. Who respected women (unlike your pimps).Who stood by the Palestinians throughout and protected them. Who did not waver to the Americans, Iranians or Israelis. Who stood by what he believed in. Who died with dignity and courage...

So if all the above makes me a Saddam whore, then so be it.
At least I have not also sold it to the Americans, Israelis, or Iranians and have not sold it to the "Left" or what is left of the "Left" (if the Left still exists that is.)

All honors to him and to me.

So next time, you call me a whore, do remember which brothel YOU have emerged from.
Have a great Sunday.

Painting: Egyptian artist, George Bahgory.

June 16, 2007

-/- A Red Line -/-


Never had I fathomed, not even in my remotest imagination, that a day will come when God's houses will be attacked and destroyed. The way they are today, in Iraq...Never.

This was and remains the most unthinkable, unacceptable act to me and to countless others...
This Red Line is now crossed...Crossed, transgressed, trespassed into blasphemy...

In fact, this Red Line was first crossed when the American brave boys started blowing up minarets...The first in Fallujah.

The Red Line was crossed when they desecrated the sacred places, ransacking them, setting them on fire, tearing, spitting and urinating on the Holy Book, painting crucifixes on the walls, stealing Mosques treasuries....And above all, killing people in them.

Worshipers in prayers...Prostrated, curved, curbed upon themselves, bent, rounded up, wrapped upon themselves like in a cocoon, like an infant in an embryo...
In instants of total surrender... Defenseless, vulnerable, fragile...at the Mercy...and killed...

Yes, that day, the Red Line was crossed...

The first act, the one who had cast the first stone, transgressed all red lines.
And since that day , we are witnessing more of the same, spreading like a wild satanic fire, embracing all God's houses, Muslim, Christian...temples, any sanctified corner...Anything remotely sacred.

The rape of the Sacred...The rape of The Sacred, touching the most intimate connection, the closest belief , the "One closer than your jugular vein" of a people... whatever their creed.

I am not even sure you realize what a serious, grave act this is...but then maybe you do. But, I guess your boys are absolved because they are, yet another breed of a chosen people. A bit like your president and your administration, above God - maybe!

And like God, they have their "angels", executing their orders...the new Pharisees of the 21st century.
The "clash of civilizations" you said...so you said...and "Be" and it was...and "Be" and it became...so it became - in Iraq.

Destroy the Temple within and destroy the Temple without...
Destroy the body, destroy the soul. Destroy the "sacred and the profane"...

Never, I would have never thought this to be possible. Iraq has never known anything like that and that despite Her being bloodily invaded before by barbarians...
But never that way, never like this... Never.

I am even too sad to write...What is there to say?
I find myself strangulated by grief, silenced beyond words, sliding into consternation and disbelief...
I find myself torn inside as if a thousand daggers have transpierced me...
I wonder what God feels...I want to tell Him, Her, It...

Dear One, I am so sorry. They have not only destroyed our homes, but they have destroyed Yours as well...
Where are we to go now Dear One? Which refuge? Which direction? Where do we turn? What are we to face?
The roofs have fallen and the skies are uncovered...
And we are like fugitives, running...Looking behind us, in front of us, above us with a sky wide open over our heads and an earth ready to swallow us any moment...

Is there anywhere at all where a Red Line has not been crossed?

We run and run and there are no lines we have not crossed. No borders, no frontiers...
We run and run and they follow us everywhere...Right into our temple within, our temple without, into our beds, into our sleep, into our dreams...into our prayers...

Not a minaret, not a dome, not a church door...Nothing has been left untouched...

We stand, raise our hands to the sky and we receive fire bombs falling into our arms, against our chests, crushing us...
We bow down and repeat the sacred name and arrows pierce our backs in a ritual ablution of blood...
We prostrate down and touch the earth with our foreheads and mines explode in our faces...

Is there anywhere Dear One, that is no Red Line - Anywhere at all?


Painting: Iraqi artist, Thameer Dawood.

June 11, 2007

Scream quietly...in the Blue.


I remember reading a book some years back. I cannot remember the name of the author though. I did warn you that I am bad with names. But the exact title is well lodged in my mind: "Scream quietly or the neighbors will hear".

The book was about female battering. You know what woman battering is don't you?

It is basically when a man beats, strikes, punches, kicks, pounds...a woman and sometimes severly enough that she ends up in hospital and sometimes severly enough to bring about her death.


It is interesting to note that the verb "to batter" is also used in cooking i.e to make a dough. The French have similar anologies between battering a woman and food. They would say he turned her into a "compote".(compote is cooked fruits). Ditto for Arabic expressions. They would say he broke her bones, they became like "soup"...
Am sure other "cultures" have more analogies of the same sort. I will leave it to you to dig up some expressions that you are familiar with, along the same lines...

Did you notice something here? A common trait in the use of words, in the use of language?

It is as if they allude to render that "thing" liquefied, easily moulded, soft to the palate...
In sum, easily mixed and easily digestible. I will also leave it to you to make further associations on the same theme.

No society is immune from woman battering. I will not dwell on figures now. All societies are guilty of it. East and West, equally guilty. And R.Kipling was wrong when he said that East and West shall never meet. They do meet. They met. They met in Iraq.

They met in Iraq, the land, the earth, the Mother...
They also met and agreed on her daughters bodies - Iraqi Women.

That body which, since the "liberation", has become a public commodity. A public thing. A thing to be veiled, a thing to be controlled, a thing to be ordered about, a thing to be disposed of, a thing to be battered, moulded, shaped into a liquefied, soft, yielding thing. A digestible thing.

Yes, batter, pound, strike, punch, beat, rape, torture, imprison...that "thing" and ultimately dispose of it, annihilate it.

Both "East and West" are bent on the destruction of Iraqi women.
It is as if, plundered, occupied Iraq has become the center point, the "lieu" where these forces can pour out their venom, their deep hatred, their frustrated instincts, their perversities...In sum their collective misogyny.

And those who know me a little by now, know what I mean by East & West. Just in case you are new to this blog. East is metaphorically used for Iran and West for none other but the "greatest democracy on earth", America.


"Scream quietly" is what Salam's kidnappers shouted at her.

I find myself searching for new names all the time. Changing a name in my head a thousand times. I now fear mentioning the neighborhood too. The militias trace cell phone calls, names, neighborhoods, relatives....etc...and am serious.

Salam is a female relative. She lives in a sunni area. A sunni area that is now infiltrated by the militias from Iran. The militias of the Mullahs. A sunni area thought to be a walled fortress. No such thing, alas.

A few days ago she went during broad daylight to her son's school. He is only 11. She wanted to get his exam results. She was ecstatic when the teacher told her that he passed. She said to herself, with all what they are going through, he still managed to pass...
She took the piece of paper. One piece of good news she thought to herself.

As she was leaving the gate of the school, a group of armed men approached her and pushed her at gunpoint into a car. She was kidnapped for 48 hours. That same day, 4 female teachers were shot in the head as they walked out from the gates of the schools...

I was not able to speak to Salam and you will know why later on. But her husband told me and I had lots of difficulty understanding what he was saying. He was crying so hard and I had never seen him cry that way before...I had to make him repeat his sentences several times before I got all the details of her abduction, of her kidnapping.

Salam is a very pretty woman in her 30's and she is veiled. So I guess her "dress mode" was not an issue...but then you never know.

A mother of two. A postgraduate in Arabic literature, an ex-college teacher.
She was laid off her work like so many others. She lives with her husband and ailing sick father. Her husband is unemployed. He too was sacked from his job since he belongs to the wrong sect. They live off 75$ a month. This is the money they get from her father's old age pension.

The kidnappers called themselves a certain X "Jihad" group. No one has heard of them before. The only thing we know and that is according to Salam "they spoke Arabic with a very heavy foreign accent".
They were 5 of them. They tied her hands and feet. And kept on beating her until they broke her jaw and bruised her all over. She shouted "What do you want from me?"

They threatened that if she shouts one more time, they will gang rape her and they kicked her up some more...

They interrogated her for 24 hours. They wanted to know everything and I mean everything.

Where she lives, who pays the rent, who her relatives are (and she did give names under duress), where they live, what their phone numbers are, how much money they had, where did the money come from, who were the people she mingled with, what is her husband's job, her father's, her mother's, her grandparents, her ancestors... And they beat her up some more...

And everytime she screamed, they threatened rape and told her to be quiet. She told them "Remember your own mothers, remember your own sisters...How can you rape me?"

They laughed and said..."And you know how to respond too huh?" And they pounded her some more. "Where did you learn to talk that way?"...And the interrogation continued...
"What did you study, where did you study, why did you study...What else do you know, what other replies will you dare give us...?" And they beat her up some more...

Salam was finally released from the "X " group for a sum of 1'500$. That is all the family had. A bit of savings to help them make it through until "God decides this curse be alleviated"...
Upon her release her husband packed a little suitcase and moved to another neighborhood. Also I must not forget to mention that his son's name is very sunni.And now they fear for his life too.
Salam is now lying in bed. She is too broken and too bruised to move or talk. Forget about taking her to a hospital... Did I say hospital? Ah seems I did. You know what a hospital is? Good for you.

Of course, the first reaction we had was "Did they rape her?" As if this phallic weapon is constantly branded over our heads like a sword about to slit our throats...


Salam is blue all over...Bruised blue, red blue, red coagulated blue, hematomas blue ,blue black...covering her already frail body.
Blue, blue, blue...And deeper shades of blues...Deeper blues in the heart, intense blues reaching the soul...
Blue bodies, blue souls...Sanguinary blues.


Scream quietly while we beat you up. Scream quietly while we insult you. Scream quietly while we order you about. Scream quietly while we trade in you...Scream quietly while we rape you. Scream quietly...move quietly...cry quietly...


Damascus, Amman - Hundreds of young Iraqi women scream quietly everynight after closing time of the seedy bars.
They scream quietly under the weight of the clients, forcing them into positions they would not dare use with their own "respectable" wives...
They scream quietly as they pass on the 10$ to their families to feed them.
They scream quietly when they find out they have contracted STD, they scream quietly when they find out they are pregnant, they scream quietly when they are called "cheap Iraqi whores..."

Iraqi prisons - Thousands of women linger there with no trial. They sit and they scream quietly. They are tortured, raped and are asked to scream quietly. They contracted AIDS, TB, Syphilis, Hepatitis and a thousand other ailments but they are to scream quietly...And when they walk to the gallows, they are to scream and die quietly...


America, this is your New Democracy. Iran, this is your play field. Iraq has become your dumping grounds.
The dumping ground for your greed, promiscuity, illnesses, perversion, hatred, racism, barbarism, but above all your misogyny. Yes YOUR misogyny.

Your misogyny coupled with their misogyny. Your hatred coupled with their hatred. Your sexism coupled with their sexism. Your brutality coupled with their brutality. Your violence coupled with their violence....

No, it is not only a dual occupation for Iraqi women.It is a thousand occupations.
No, it is not only a backlash for Iraqi women...It is a thousand lashes...
It is beyond rape, it is beyond anything that words can describe...It is even beyond death.
It is as if all the hateful shadows, lurking monsters, of "Maleness" are being poured over our heads, into our bodies, right into our souls...into future generations, into the future, into for Ever...

Control, impoverish, kidnap, batter, rape, torture, prostitution, prisons, hanging, death....A series of steps on the one and same continuum of male hatred. That archaic hatred that has erupted along with your occupation.

My God, every time this realization dawns on me, I scream. Scream in the darkness, scream in the solitude, scream at my keyboard, scream quietly...

So go and tell your "anti-war" websites, groups, newspapers...
Tell them that every time they carry Muqtada and his drill boys on their shoulders, in praise of the not so-hidden blood filled hand of Iran...
Next time, when you sit and circulate another one of your potential, probable, possible, "war pimp alerts"...
Next time, when your "respectable" "anti-war" "feminists" sit together and debate the intricacies and "dialects" of Patriarchy and Imperialism...
Next time, when you are pedantically engaged in semantics on the exact terminology of political correctness... Next time.

Next time, remind them.
Remind them of the thousands of widowed Salams, the thousands of displaced Salams, the thousands of impoverished Salams, the thousands of imprisoned, tortured, sick, raped Salams, the thousands of kidnapped, raped, battered Salams, the thousands of young Salams forced to sell their bodies in cheap night clubs, the thousands of old Salams sleeping and begging in the streets, the thousands of orphaned Salams being traded in...
Yes remind them.

And next time you sit and wonder why I detest you so much...Remember that I am sitting here, behind this borrowed keyboard. My only refuge into sanity was endlessly hacked and finally destroyed into silence.
Yes borrowed. Borrowed computer, borrowed money, borrowed roof, borrowed lives, borrowed time...
Remember me sitting here, along with thousands other Salams screaming quietly into the night...

But knowing you, I can already picture that sly gleeful smile of satisfaction on your face...And knowing you, I can already see that indifference that I am so familiar with...
You are probably thinking to yourself -

This is nothing...
It's just "The Other", an "other".
another woman, yet another woman...
It's nothing.
It's just an Iraqi woman bruised,
just another Arab woman's blues.


Painting: Iraqi artist, Thamer Dawood.

June 8, 2007

Stalling, Stealing, Civilization...


I am in no mood to write anything today. I think the "blues" have caught up with me big time.

My grandmother used to tell me, when you are feeling down, count your blessings and you will feel better...

I search for the blessings...They are not to be found in Iraq.

More pillaging and more destruction. More lost lives and lost loves...
More broken hearts, more destroyed souls...Evaporated bodies, names that no longer exist, faces that one digs hard to remember...

All gone in some whirlpool of black smoke made of gunpowder...Made of army uniforms, made of sectarian shouts, made of dancing over the dead...

Iraq will never be a shia only state.
And we have enough with one "chosen" people, we don't need another one. Let the sectarian "chosen" ones move next door. Let the mullahs bless them and let them stay there till death visits them and shrouds them in Qum carpets...

Chomsky, your zionist spiritual father must be so proud now.
The "shias are soooooooooo oppressed"... he barked at the media and you applauded and said "Yes. Solidarity with the oppressed of this world"....

Now go and look, have a good look.
Check out this video from Roads to Iraq on uruknet.info.
Dance with them. Clap with them. Wave your dirty flag with them. Bless your troops with them.

Go and have a good look. Have a good look at the plundering of the oldest civilization earth.
Go and check out your "so oppressed" merchants trading in it across borders.
All the way to Tel Aviv...and Isfahan.
Go and check, you dishonest lot. And give a piece of Ur to your spiritual daddy. So he can reconnect to his "Babylonian" roots by osmosis.

And then go and embrace the lefties amongst you. Pat them on the back. Give them another lesson in your jargon of the oh so delicately correct language of politics. Then go and place a flower on the tomb of your brave boys.

You make me sick.

You have neither any inkling of what civilization means...Nor do you have any notion of what human civility means.
All a veneered facade of niceties and the right use of words.
Endless masks superimposed one on top of the other.
And I keep peeling off one by one...
And at each layer, another monster rears its head. Uglier than the previous one.

And you come to me, preaching. Preaching love and forgiveness. Preaching and more preaching. You make heaps out of preaching.
It gives you this stature of self righteousness. You elevate yourself with your own lies...And you become so holy. So politically in vogue. So fuckingly hypocritical.

I search around for my blessings...I search and search...And you bastards left me with nothing.
I want my promised land back. I want civilization back. I want human civility back.

Away from you and your twisted political theories and analysis. Away from your sort, away, far away...

But I will heed my Grandmother's advice and since I have been educated in the "enlightened" academia of yours, the academia of "impartial, objectivity"...
Then I have a few blessings I am grateful for :

If there is any good at all from this occupation. It is only ONE thing.
The fragile, intricately, anonymously knit, web of solidarity I have experienced.

Some are not so anonymous. And I would like to publicly show appreciation and gratitude to:
www.uruknet.info.
And regardless of the respect and fondness I hold for P.Pisi, the Editor of Uruknet, I really believe that Uruknet is one of the best news services available on Occupied Iraq and Palestine.

Another website for Spanish speaking readers is www.rebelion.org. I want to particularly thank Sinfo Fernandez who goes through the torturous process of translating my posts into spanish, making them available to the widest public possible.(and that despite my unorthodox use of the english language.) Links below.

I will continue counting my blessings and show appreciation to Mike Whitney whose solidarity writings on Iraq I truly appreciate and Malcolm Lagauche for his wonderful no nonsense level headed and historically accurate articles on the same topic.

There are others too. Maybe they wish to remain anonymous in that web of virtual friendship and I shall therefore refrain from naming them without their permission.

You people are a blessing. For with people like you around, the theft of civilization will not go unnoticed and human civility will not be relegated to a thing from the past.

Grandmothers are always right... Especially the ones from Ur.


Links for some of the articles translated into Spanish.

http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51200
http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51235
http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51290
http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51354
http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51524
http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51589
http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51630
http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51789
http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=51841



Painting: Another Palestinian artist today, female, Tamam Al-Akhal. "Stalling Civilization, 2003"

June 4, 2007

50 Degrees in the Shade.


This is what the thermometer read. To be more precise it read 48.5 C. And do not quibble with me over 1.5 degrees. One and half degrees more or less, it is too much.

Scorching sun, suffocating heat, a dried out people...

Not a drop of water. The Sunni areas are worst hit. No water and no electricity. Sadr City on the other hand has both.

No water to wash, no water to cool, no water to cook, no water to clean, no water to drink... No Water. Simply no water. And it's too much.

As I have mentioned time and time again in my previous posts, the ministries in charge of Water, Electricity, Works, Health...are in the hands of the sectarian Iranians.

And I repeat what I have said before namely that this is a DELIBERATE policy on their part to engage in a genocide against Iraqis and Iraqi sunnis in particular.
A genocide within a grander genocide conducted by the Zionists Americans.

(On a side note but as important. Seems according to the Washington Post, the CIA produced in August 2002 a six page report stating the following:
The worst case scenario for the Iraqi invasion are:
- the division and total partition of Iraq along sectarian-ethnic lines.
- the very high possibility of a long civil-sectarian war.
- the increase of terrorism in general and terroristic attacks against the U.S in particular.
- the increasing hatred of America and Americans worldwide.

The American government went ahead and invaded Iraq 7 months later. Trust zionists and most of them are zionist jews, for conducting your affairs. DUMB Americans.)


But you don't believe me. Maybe you are secretly wishing to see us ALL dead, thus fullfilling Bremer's injunction "Let's bring them down to 5 million". Maybe this is what you really want deep down.

Rejoice then. Because the following pieces of news will undoubtedly arouse you to the point of climax.

I called Madeleine (christian). "Where is Hanna. I cannot reach him."
"Hanna? You must be joking. We are being displaced en masse. "
In Arabic she said "Al Tahjeer be filis" (meaning our exile is done so cheaply, so easily)...adding "It's too much."

Altaf's twin baby boys have disentery. She cannot leave the house. She lives in Ameriya. She says: " They are drying out, they look emasculated. Someone help me please. They are dying and I can do nothing. It's too much..."

You must also be pleased to hear that there are several outbreaks of cholera and typhoid in Baghdad and as usual the worst hit are children. They are drying out with fever...And that is too much.

Maybe I should send you a picture of a child frothing at the mouth so you will believe me. But knowing your sort, you would probably use it on some porn site, like you have done with the pictures of Iraqi mutilated bodies. And that is simply too much.

In other Sunni areas, cases are being reported of a "strange, severe eye inflammation" caused by explosions of "something that smells really bad". The eyes swell and those affected can no longer see. It is too much.

Several cases of AIDS, and Hepatitis B & C (usually sexually transmitted). And that is too much.

In Karradah, a mixed area, inhabitants took to the streets in a demonstration. Braving mortar bombs, car explosions, the lack of water, the 50C heat and shouted :
"We are drying out. Our children are dying. Someone, somewhere, do something. That is enough. It is too much..."


I have given up hope in American, British...mass mobilizations to change anything.
They are a pathetic, dishonest, hopeless lot. Forget their vows of solidarity, it is all Bullshit.

I have given up hope in the Arab masses. Give them a narguileh (hubble bubble) and a semi-naked singer Haifah Wehbeh style (lebanese-permanently semi naked singer) and they will sell their own mother.

I do have an inkling of hope left in the Iraqis though.

No, not the sectarian sons of bitches (Allawi, Chalabi, Sadr, Maliki, Jaber, Rubaie, Jaafari, Hakeem, Sistani...) kissing Iranian/American ass in the Green Zone.

Neither the so called Nationalist Iraqis of Al Mutlak and Co, who keep barking like dogs and then go and bite their own tails later.

Nor in any M.P, whose average salary is 30'000 dollars per month/tax free. Not mentionning other fringe benefits, % on commissions, nor the dollars of wheeling and dealing...

Nor the chauvinistic sell out Kurds with their pathetic flag waving folk dances and their archaic-in the process of being modernised by the Israeli Mossad- peshmergas.

And certainly not in their arms/drug dealer M.Barazani and definitely not in their buffon, bend over, "President" J.Talabani. (One would have thought with all this bending over to the Israelis and Americans, this clown would have lost a few pounds by now. But seems not. He is making a special trip to Mayo clinic in Rochester.US. Maybe they will be more effective there.)

Nor in the "First Lady" of Iraq - Horo Talabani, sitting with Tzibi Livni discussing " security issues" in the M.E. (see the wonderful picture here)

My only hope is in the Iraqis who took to the streets a few days ago. Sunnis and Shias together, braving it all, shouting "IT'S TOO MUCH"

And I want to have hope in you too. You Iraqis, inside, outside, wherever you are.
I say to you : MOVE.
Do anything but do something. Enough of your slumbering mental lethargy.
Scream, hurl, shout...IT'S TOO MUCH.

Leave those Green Zone whores. Turn your back on them. Walk away from them - Whoever they are. And shout out loud: It's too much.

Forget your sect, your tribe, your clan, your religion, your ethnicity, your family line...
Forget the politics of the Ifs, Buts, Who is who, Where and When...And shout: It's too much.

Iraq is in the grips of the Triangle of Satan. Iraq is dying.
Iraq is dying.
Do not stand there and watch. Watch until she finally expires her last breaths. MOVE.
Do not stand there until you rush to her burial. By then she will be gone. MOVE.

Move in the heat. Move in the dryness. Move under 50C. Move in the Grief. Move in the Tears. MOVE.
Iraq is dying, Iraq is thirsty. You are her Water.
Turn up the heat. Make it 100C. Make it 200C. Make it a roaring Hell of screams and shout together : IT'S TOO MUCH.

Move. Act. NOW. And give her something to drink.


Painting: Iraqi artist, Sadiq Toma.

June 2, 2007

On a Friday Night.


I know you guys (and gals) make a big deal out of Friday nights.
"Hey the weekend is here, thank God it's Friday" line, I have heard it once too many.

Friday night and you go and get pissed drunk out of your brains or have some cozy tete a tete with your date, or invite some friends over for a party...
While I have to sit here on a Friday night and report your own horrors back to you.
Hope this will not spoil your "mood" though.

I have lost yet another relative this week. He lives in Amil district. He has 4 kids and is in his 20's. He walked to his front door and the American air raids bombed his house. As a matter of fact they bombed a whole row of houses and around 20 men of his age died.
Now as am typing this, the Mahdi Army of Muqtada Shit has encircled the Amil district and it is now under siege.

His brother, early 20's was praying in the mosque. He was detained by the Americans who beat him up so bad they broke all his ribs. They finally released him not finding any evidence of his involvement in any "illegal" activities.

The Ameriya district is under curfew. The "Al-Qaeda" has been waging a war against the Members of the Resistance. Killing imams in the mosques and shooting members of the Resistance in cold blood. Al Ameriya is encircled now by the Mahdi, the Iraqi forces and the Americans. Note the parrallel development in Al Amil and you will understand a piece of the puzzle which is no longer a puzzle for me.

In Adhamiya, snipers have squatted rooftops of buildings, in Omar Street next to Antar Square. No one can pass through there and anyone who dares is killed in cold blood. People cannot leave Adhamiya and if they are forced to go out to get food, they need to borrow a much longer route and as dangerous.

There is virtually no electricity. I mean none in all the above neighborhoods and others, including the whole of Karradah. Forget about water. Some are using generators but the price of gaz has gone up to 4 $ a liter, (16'000 dinars) and the tanks of paraffin (used a lot in Iraq) has gone up to 30'000 dinars (around 16$) which is enormous when the average salary is 100$ a month if you are lucky enough to have a job, that is.

I also heard that Iran is exporting oil and refined oil products to Iraq and are sold on the Baghdadi market. But "Iranian" oil is not the only thing Baghdadis are forced to buy. Try getting a pair of shoes - Impossible. All you can find are piles and piles of ugly plastic slippers made guess where? Iran of course. A war of slippers perhaps?

And before I sign off and wish you a lovely weekend, I don't want to forget this other piece of info.
"Official" figures from the "Iraqi" government put the number of Iraqi civilians killed for the month of May to 2'000.

Nice figure no? Now go and enjoy your friggin Friday night.
Cheers!

Oh and I forgot, over 200 men bearing the name of Omar have been killed by the Mahdi and Co criminals. Someone found a whole line of Omars lying next to a mosque, around 12 of them with a tag saying "My name is Omar and now am dead."
Seems that the turn for the Bakrs has arrived. Cousin Amal and her only son Bakr have fled to Syria.
Cheers again!

Painting : Iraqi artist, Saadi Al Kaabi.