August 31, 2008

Police & Expose them !


I just love exposing the motherfuckers. I tremendously enjoy cornering them in their own turf.
I relish shedding light on them...I thoroughly enjoy deconstructing them and skinning them and their arguments away....in the garbage bins , in the dustbins, into the rubbish that they are...

Remind yourselves, you are dealing with rubbish people. With rubbish minds, and rubbish arguments and a rubbish rationale...Get to them. So easy and I will tell you how.

Take for instance the subject matter " The Iraqi POLICE ". Lets take that one as an example, a detail...

Prior to our " liberation", we were told that we were living in a police state, being policed by a monster state apparatus with its policed security called mukhabarat, We were also told that we were not allowed to utter a single thing because we were a policed people. living in a policed country, like a fucking fortress that no one could penetrate - and rightly so. For we have seen what your "penetration" is all about.

May God bless you Saddam Hussein. You understood all what needs to be understood about fortresses needing to be edified in the face of the crusaders...

Today, in the "liberated" Iraq, we hear nothing and read nothing but articles about the Iraqi police. Hahahahahahaha

The Iraqi police this and the Iraqi police that...

Let me tell you something that you already ignore, because ignorant is what you are. The ONLY job available in the " new Iraq" is that of being a policeman or a policewoman.

Wait, it does not stop there.

When you, sons of a thousand whores, decided to "liberate us", and I was present...Standing like an Aleph, I witnessed it all...I heard one of your motherfuckers say, " The only jobs for Iraqis are blue " as in blue collar...

You fucking bastards, we have more Phd's and university graduates than your whole Halliburton/Pentagon/White house/Ivy shit put together. And you know why ?

Because we understood the game earlier on, much earlier on...So we graduated and post graduated with flying colors....Saddam knew this day will be coming , when we all be forced to turn into a blue, a blue color...a blue collar...

And he made sure we all have something to fall back onto, something more colorful than a fucking blue...Remind ourselves that we studied hard and worked hard to move beyond blue...And so we have and shall...

But today in the "new Iraq", if you need to make a living, you join the police. In a policed, armed state. In a ghettoised country, in a ghettoised city for shadows...Yours.

So you read a thousand articles about the Iraqi police. Recruiting them, training them, brainwashing them....

I tell you, the Iraqi police don't give a fuck about you. They are thinking of the 300 dollars at the end of the month, to feed their families. They could not care less about your agenda...

And they have become targets, malgré eux. For the only livelihood available today in the "new Iraq" is that of being a policeman, in what used to be a FREE state.

As for those of us, who spent over a decade of our lives, studying, researching, teaching, we are either in morgues, in graves or simply disappeared...We go incognito, pretending we know nothing, forgetting our diplomas, stacking them away in a hiding fashion, burning them away, before we get burned by you. By your Mossad, your Quds Iranian brigades, your stinking ignorant boys or by the new Iraqi police...


Painting : Iraqi artist, Qais Al-Sindy - The Iraqi flag.

August 29, 2008

Variations on a Verb...


I am no linguist, but as far as I can remember I have always held a strange fascination for Language.

There are so many kinds of languages, so many forms, so many levels of understanding Language...

Language is a world by itself...Hence it is no wonder that in the beginning was the Verb.

The Verb is the Source from which all ensues...at least in Arabic, it is.

From the Verb comes the noun and the adjective, the past, the present and the future.

Take for instance the verb Kataba which means to write. From Kataba you have Kitab - a book or a written text. Then you have Maktab - an office or desk where things are written. You also have Kateb - a writer. And you have Maktoob - a letter or a pre-written, pre-ordained Destiny.

This is just one example of the Verb branching out, in the Arabic language. So many branches from one Verb and so many Verbs...

It is simply impossible to understand a people without at least a partial cognizance of their language. Language is the window and the door. The entry points. But knowing a language as in speaking it is not enough. You need to get into it. Re-read that again please - GET INTO IT.

By getting into a language, past -- the alphabet, the syllables, the phonetics, spelling and pronunciation, past the grammar, past...pass through and you will get into the structure, into the edifice, and from there on you can wander around, contemplate and understand all you need to understand...

The Arabic language is a very powerful language. It is rich, varied, deep and bears multi layered meanings and symbols. And it is one of the most difficult languages to "master". Content yourself with a few words here and there, and you will be making a total fool out of yourself...Mastering the Arabs means mastering their Language. And no foreigner has managed that, not even your Lawrence of Arabia nor your Isabelle Eberhart, neither your Glubb Pashas...They were all eventually subdued...one way or another.

The Arabic language is a captivating one. It contains a combination of deep passion and at the same time a high logicality to it. It is both highly poetic and rational. And the non-semitic mind is incapable of experiencing both at the same time.

The Arabic grammar is both -- terribly tedious and at the same time exhibits a high level of Logic, almost mathematical. Yet the logic transmutes itself in heavily loaded words with such deep meanings, almost esoteric, that ramify themselves just like branches from one tree, ad infinitum... Covering all the subtleties, nuances, intensities of a single Verb.

For those who are literalist in thinking and language, it can prove almost impossible for them to capture the essence of what I am trying to convey.

Take another example - the verb to Love in Arabic. There are over 99 ways to express the concept/feeling/state of Love in Arabic.

I am yet to come across a language that prides itself on its Love variations like in Arabic.

Love through and under all of its states is to be found in different verbs expressing the one thing -- Love. A yearning Love, a longing Love, a passionate Love , a liking Love , a burning Love, an infatuating Love, an ecstatic Love, a deep Love, a missing Love, a caring Love, a friendly Love, a bitter Love, a sorrowful Love, a grieving Love, a cruel Love, a platonic Love, a lustful Love, a waiting Love, a jealous Love, a possessive Love, a conquering Love....and keep counting over 90 variations of the verb to Love.

One state of Love in Arabic is "Shagan". "Shagan" is excessively hard to translate into English. Shagan is a state of Love where one experiences - yearning, longing, lamentation, waiting, nostalgia, tinged with a subtle taste of bitterness of something that has gone to pass but one is still hoping for...but nonetheless a creative, inspired state of Love, almost melodious in its Hopefulness...

See what I mean - this is the brilliance of the Arabic language, a language that combines in one word Shagan all those seemingly contradictory states of both despair and hopefulness -- of finally meeting and uniting with your Beloved, against all odds.

The state of Love produced by "Shagan" is a very peculiar one...It is an almost obsessive one...because everything reminds you and takes you back to the Beloved.

Everything - a smell, a color, a look, a familiar face, a taste, a perfume, a memory, a song, a melody, a scenery, a text, a letter, a book, a name, a word, a verb, a Language...


Painting: Iraqi artist, Abdul Hussain Al-Twaij.

August 24, 2008

" The Wretched of the Earth "


WARNING - This post may offend some of your "sensibilities."

What a wonderful title, a classic from F.Fanon. I do not wish to get into a critique of the book right now, but the overall idea is still very valid and applicable today. I read that the Pentagon makes it a compulsory reading in order to understand Iraq better...

But you see, I read Fanon from a different angle, from the other side of the fence.

As a matter of fact, this title has been on my mind for the past days, popping in and out and sometimes nudging me with urgency. I am not quite sure what prompted it.

Reviewing the past few days, I guess it must have been triggered by the sight of some English breed grazing around...

Some of my readers have raised a valid question in the past, they asked " How come your posts don't specifically address the English ?" I recall one of my replies - "It is because I hate them so much."

I am better acquainted with the English mind set than the American one, for historical reasons. My knowledge of the American mind set only came later on...
For me, the American mind set is nothing but the bastard child of the English and the Irish, for that matter.

I have a theory about the English and I have checked it through and through, almost like in an empirical fashion - namely that whatever the English say or do, they will remain a tacky, dull and cheap race, regardless of their class and/or status.

It is NEVER an understatement, to affirm that the English are INHERENTLY RACIST. Racism, of the most insidious, malignant kind is wired into their genes. So by correlation, they are a hopeless case and a dangerous one too.

If compared to the French, this latter is a piece of cake. With the French it is too obvious, glaringly evident. I usually blame it on some Latin temperament that finds it difficult to keep the mask for too long.

The English on the other hand are snakes. And not some beautiful cobra either, just a black, ugly, slimy viper, the ones you find laying by the river beds, feeding off garbage. Yes, the English are garbage, a garbage one cannot even recycle. So much for environmental friendly !

By now, the reader is probably wondering what on earth took place that merits such a caustic introduction. Because it is but an introduction to my least favorite subject - the English in particular and the "White race" in general.

What took place? You mean apart from the criminal, murderous occupation of my country by the American cheap whores and their forefathers, the filthy matron, the English ?
Or maybe you think this is just a side note to be easily overlooked, to be relegated to the annals of history ? No such thing in my book.

So I was saying, the sight of the English cattle grazing around triggered it all off, all over again...

It all started by the pool, seeing those white pimpled bodies floating. A wave of nausea started in the pit of my stomach and grew into a strong urge to vomit, as events unfolded...

Omar suggested we go to the pool. So we did. Three pools, one for the kids, one for the adults and another smaller one hidden behind the trees for the adults who need some peace and quiet. I sure did. So we agreed on the third one.

The minute I walked in, I noticed half a dozen of English colonizing the place. I mean COLONIZING. Of course I could tell they are from this wretched race because of their horrible accents. Omar and I were babbling on in Arabic - normal, it is our land and our language, after all. Two of the English tacky tramps stared at us with a frown and they sneered, the way the English sneer, as if I did not know how they sneered...raising their eyebrows as if to say...

We found our place by the pool, amongst the colonizers. The third one huffed the way the English huff, as if to say - this is our territory, what is an Arab doing here ? Omar and I were the only Arabs, so it seemed...

Sensing all this around me, I decided to ante up my voice and speak as loud as they did - in my land, in my language. A deliberate loud voice punctuated with English words, and a quasi-hysterical laughter, just to bug the shit out of them.

Omar understood the dynamics, he is no stupid Arab. So he played along with me...And occasionally we would throw a few debasing glances their way and giggle discreetly making sure they noticed...

After a good 20 mn of bugging them, Omar went for a swim, and I was left alone in this jungle of white predators.

The two women, the ones I had the misfortune of spotting at first, started all over again... I could see them from the corner of an eye and feel their poisonous, venomous energy darting my way. English tacky tramps, that no amount of travelling and tourism will ever change. English tacky tramps imbued with the Woolworth, Mark & Spencer's, Woman's Own, Daily Mail...mentality, that absolutely no amount of anything will ever change. But hey, am reserving a special one for White women travelling "East". Do stay tuned on that one, because I have lots to tell you...

One English bloke, and this is what they are, blokes not men, with his wife, who looked like a Yorkshire terrier, called the waiter and ordered a drink, because this is what the English do best - drink. I remember seeing them drink beer from a shoe and they considered that "fun".

Did you also notice that English people look like dogs. The wife looked like a Yorkshire terrier, he looked like Bulldog, the two tacky tramps looked like Poodles and another looked like this dog that resembles a sausage, a Basset, I think it's called. Do have fun experimenting with this, and am sure you will find veracity in my observation and the canine parallels will be all too obvious.

Anyway, I was saying the English bloke ordered a drink and at first he seemed to talk with a plum stuck up his ass. A few drinks down the line and the accent underwent transformations with "oy, iya and wot"

The Yorkshire terrier wife trying to be friendly with her "subjects", and feigning interest in her "subordinates" (I wish the English tarts will stop imitating their queen, they absolutely look fucking ridiculous) struck a conversation with the waiter.

- Wot's your nayme then ?
- Him nearly on the floor bowing, stuttering and grinning - Abdul, madam
- Wot?
- Abdul, madam.
- Abduul? That's short for wot ?
- For Abdallah, madam.
- Is that a religious nayme then. Is it liyke from your religion then ?
- Yes madam, it means Allah's servant.
- Oriyght, I see wot you mean now.

I am not sure how the conversation took a turn and the Yorkshire terrier said

- You know, we got the story of Jonas and the whayle in our book, in our religion, in Christianity.

So Christianity is YOUR religion now ? Like your exclusive religion, Mrs Yorkshire terrier ? OK so you're telling us you have exclusive monopoly over Christianity as well. Would that include the paedophile Anglican Church by any chance ?

I could not take anymore of that, could not take anymore of Abdul bowing and grinning like a lapdog for the dogs, could not see his clown face trying to make them laugh with his idiotic jokes, could not take the English tacky tramps and their Marks & Spencers bikinis, could not take the Yorkshire terrier and her Bulldog of a husband, could not take the Basset dog talking about his last Butlin's holidays to "Barbaydos" and Egypt and how this latter are "just a bunch of thieves"...
I simply could not take any of that anymore -- in my land.

I closed my eyes and shut them out and let my fantasies take over...
I imagined I was Minister of Culture and Tourism. Yes, both.

- For starters, every single Westerner, regardless, will have to wait for a minimum of 6 months before getting a visa clearance to enter the Arab world for a visit. He/she would have to go through extensive interrogation, pass a series of medical exams, biometric and digital prints, and only then will they be granted a very limited visa of 15 days only, not subject to renewal. Visa applications may be declined and no justifications will be provided. This is our prerogative. We need to combat terrorism and terrorists.

- If and when a visa is granted, the laws of this land stipulate the following.
For historical, cultural and political reasons, Westerners are only allowed to circulate in a limited radius and in spaces alloted to them. Any trespassing beyond this radius will mean immediate detainment and/ or deportation

- If for any reason, any Westerner wants to venture beyond the said radius and/or the spaces alloted to them, then he/she is to get the necessary authorization, and will have to present a valid reason to the competent authorities. He/she will be then provided with a badge and a limited pass.

- When on a tourist visa, the laws of this land are to be fully respected. This means in effect that your tits, balls, and asses are not to be fully exhibited, we have no need to see your ugliness. Mental diseases like Voyeurism and Exhibitionism are to be left "back home." You are to speak with humility and in a low voice. And you are to speak in the language of this Land. That would require you to take a crash course in basic Arabic prior to landing here.

- For historical and cultural reasons, this Ministry has allocated different categories of public facilities and amenities for whites, depending on race and origins.

-The English and the Americans will be allocated a special wing in hotels and pools. They are not to mix with the local population and they are not to enter any public space marked for non-whites only. Spaces for the English/American bunch will be marked with 3rd class. This is our way to preserve our purity and not have you pollute us further...

- The French, Spaniards, Italians, Germans, Portuguese, Dutch as well as Scandinavian and Eastern Europeans and the rest of the fucked up EU, will be allowed in spaces designed to them alone. These will bear the sign 2nd class. They may of course go to the English and American allocated spaces but they are not to enter the Arab space without prior authorization. Again for cultural and historical reasons.

- Westerners are prohibited to use public transport as well as places of worship, movies theaters and restaurants, etc...that bear the sign "No whites allowed". But we did think of you and we have devised some spaces for you. We are aware that these facilities are not as good as the ones for non-whites but you need to be grateful that we have accepted your presence to start with. During rush hours, you are exceptionally allowed to use public transportation such as buses for non-whites, but you are to sit at the back of the bus. Again, another token of our generosity.

- We are aware that these rather stringent measures may come across as a form of Apartheid, but since we know that you are very well versed in the methods of Apartheid, Segregation and Discrimination, we thought to ourselves, this will be familiar territory for you, and you may feel less estranged when here.
Hence -- We welcome you to Arab Land and do enjoy your stay.


Upon this last thought, Omar's voice woke up me from my pleasant reverie and said

- Someone ought to nuke these motherfuckers...

I smiled...

- How long since you've been back ?

- About 15 mn. I thought you were asleep, did not want to wake you.

- No, I was just pleasantly daydreaming. You must have been reading my thoughts.

- Let's leave these wretched ones, shall we ?

- Yes let's. Take me home.


Painting : Iraqi artist, Falah Al-Saeidi.

August 18, 2008

Ces Arabes !


Did you say Arab ? Did I hear you right ?

Arab is my nationality, my identity and my language.

A language that existed before you were born, before you were collectively conceived...

When your ancestors were still discovering language, and when you were communicating in grunts and groans, with a pistol in one hand.

Your great grand father was a slave trader and yours was an ex convict. As for you, you discovered the virtue of bathing thanks to your expeditions to the Orient.
And as for you - your university still has its faculty of medicine following what your crusaders brought with them in knowledge from the East. And you - your industrial revolution was only made possible thanks to the Silk road and its pillaging.

So who are you talking to ? You cave man.

When addressing your true Masters, you need a little humility. And one of this blog's intent is to make you humble or very angry...

In either case - I have achieved my purpose.

So am an Arab, an Arab Woman. And what a wonderful "thing" to be.


Art work : Ceramics by Iraqi artist, Raad Al Dalaimy.

August 17, 2008

Les Bonbons...


I don't have a sweet tooth, so candies are neither my weakness nor my vice...

I am always delightfully amused when I observe kids eyeing the shelves of a sweet shop. You can tell from their eyes that they want it all - every single candy, chocolate bar, lollipop there is...I guess the palette of colors they are presented with, their wrappings, tickles something in them -- the taste of Sweetness.

I remember when I was a kid, I had the same feelings when passing by a sweet shop or the local kiosk. My mom was adamant about not letting her girl suck on colored candies and lollipops. She would say -- You are not having any of that, it is all artificial.

As a kid, I frankly did not care what was artificial and what was real. The colored candies/bonbons fitted my universe, they were an intrinsic part of it.

And the minute she had her back turned, or whenever the occasion presented itself, I would take the little coins I had diligently saved and go and buy one of those bright pink bonbons/candies that tickled your nose with their flavor and stain your tongue for days - to the utter displeasure of my mother.

I am not quite sure why candies have been on my mind. It may have to do with listening to a classic satirical song by Jacques Brel called les Bonbons, produced in the 60's during the Vietnam era. But that clip reminded more of the anti-war clowns than anything else...

So am digging hard to find out why this sudden obsession with candies, pink ones in particular.

It is probably due to something that crucified Ahmad later on mentioned, when he said to me "I forgot to tell you that in the Southern detention camp, there were over 900kids, aged between 7 and 16. They were used as human shields should the "insurgents" attack the prison." Ahmad also said, and I believe Ahmad because everything he has recounted is corroborated, that these kids were subjected to all sort of maltreatment i.e Torture. Your brave boys were/are convinced that these kids had inside information on the Resistance.

Mind you this is not the first time I hear such stories. Seymour Hersh did blow the whistle a while back when he corroborated Ahmad's story -- that the Pentagon has videotapes of boys being sodomized at Abu Ghraib prison. “The worst is the soundtrack of the boys shrieking” he said.

More corroborating statements concerning the sexual torture of children at Abu Ghraib were made by the surviving prisoners themselves. The following is an excerpt from a statement provided by Kasim Mehaddi Hilas, Detainee #151108, on January 18 2004:

“I saw [name deleted] fucking a kid, his age would be about 15 years. The kid was hurting very bad and they covered all the doors with sheets. Then when I heard the screaming I climbed the door because on top it wasn’t covered and I saw [name deleted] who was wearing the military uniform putting his dick in the little kid’s ass. I couldn’t see the face of the kid because his face wasn’t in front of the door. And a female soldier was taking pictures. The sodomizer [name deleted], I think he is [deleted] because of his accent, and he was not skinny or short, and he acted like a homosexual (gay). And that was in cell #23 as best as I remember.”

The following is another testimony of sexual torture of Iraqi children from a statement provided by Thaar Salman Dawod, Detainee #150427, on January 17, 2004:

“I saw lots of people naked for a few days getting punished in the first days of Ramadan. They came with two boys naked and they were cuffed together face to face and Grainer was beating them and a group of guards were watching and taking pictures from top and bottom and there was three female soldiers laughing at the prisoners. The prisoners, two of them, were children. I don’t know their names.”


I personally remember about a year ago, I too, saw something on youtube which was quickly removed. It was an interview with an Iraqi doctor filmed in a hospital in Baghdad. I tried finding this video again to no avail.

I remember a particular scene that will never leave my mind. A militia man, an armed Shiite, brought in a boy not older than 12 with a huge open blistered chancre/sore on his buttock. The doctor asked the boy if the sore was painful, the boy's face was blood shot red and stuttered and said yes with his eyes.. He was terrified. The doctor then said, after this particular medical consultation - " We see so many horror stories, and we know what is taking place but we dare not ask questions. The armed militia man had obviously kidnapped and detained the boy you just filmed."

Since, a few reports came out, confirming that children as young as 7 were detained and tortured and raped /sodomized by both the American forces and the Shiite militias.

The official figure is around 2000 kids, I know the figure is much higher. And I need to add that these kids as it just so happens are children belonging to Iraqi/ Arab Sunni families. The latest in the series of your brave liberation is a video that can be watched here.


I have already covered in previous posts the subjection of Iraqi children to all kinds of abuse from trafficking, to pedophile rings, to sex slavery, to drugs, to street life, to lack of every basic necessity, to orphanages that are more like torture prisons, to destitution, to poverty, to disease, to abandonment and neglect. 5 million orphans is your trophy of Liberation - civilized ladies and gentlemen.

But today I am specifically referring to Iraqi children detained and tortured by the "official" authorities - the Americans and the sectarian Iranian Shiite government.

And here I want to stress the latter. I find it imperative to stress the latter. Namely that the Americans and the puppet sectarian Iranian government with its armed militias are detaining, sodomizing and torturing Iraqi kids. They are sodomizing, raping and torturing Iraqi children. They are sodomizing, raping and torturing Iraqi childhood.

Add this to your liberating democracy of 5 million orphans, and you will get a full picture of what Iraqi childhood is all about. Not mentioning the million of Iraqi refugee kids living in tents or in neighboring countries, humiliated, insulted, lacking, with no access to schooling or medical treatment, or prostituting themselves...

This is your "Freedom and Democracy - Ladies and Gentlemen."

It started off with poisoned bonbons/candies being imported from Iran and then candies thrown from American Humvees and tanks to begging children, thrown like you throw a bone to a rabid hungry dog and ended in those little ones being raped and tortured by none other than You.


So pedophiles, child molesters, child abusers, where are your cries of indignation now ?

How come I did not read any of your politically correct, twisted, hypocritical analysis on the consequences of being butt fucked by Americans and by the "poor oppressed Shiites" at the age of 7, by your "liberators" ?

How come you did not arrange for a panel of your fucked-up pedantic child therapists to discuss the matter ?

How come you did not cry out sexual abuse ? How come you did not cry out - a raped childhood ?

How come you did not bring your other category of fucked-up disgraceful whores of academics to discuss the long term consequences of being a child in the "new Iraq" ?

Had any Arab, Muslim or Iraqi done that to any of your kids, you would have personally murdered him on the spot.

But then you have done that already, haven't you ? You have murdered the dreams, the illusions, the candy shop owner, the family, the mother, and the child...

You have raped and murdered all the innocent ones. Millions of them...



So I was telling you -- the pink candies were the best, they tickled your nose and stained your tongue and left a taste of everlasting Sweetness in your mouth...
But that was a long time ago...



Painting : Iraqi artist, Hashim Hanoon, 2006

August 13, 2008

A Message from the Whore of Babylon.


I want to tell you all about the Whore from Babylon ...
She is unlike any other whore you have met before and am sure you have met a few...She is your creation. So look at her now.

She is no streetwalker, no sex worker, no prostitute. She is the Whore from Babylon.

I want to emphasize the word – because you relish it, you secretly relish it...

A great erection engulfs you, and you feel powerful again. And your power is measured by your erections...your would–be erections, your pseudo-erections, your make-belief erections...

Erections come in all forms. Fun and Exercise erections, Mental erections, Ideological erections, Political erections and even Religious erections. Battlefield erections, Military erections, Financial erections, Power erections, Conquest erections, Destruction erections, Annihilation erections...
My, you are truly powerful. And your sexual erections are nothing but the tip of the iceberg. Do excuse the pun...and it is intended.

Now, now, don't get me wrong. It is not that am about to castrate you or anything along these lines, even though at times it may not sound like such a bad idea after all...
Especially not a bad idea when I learn that you have not only totally ruined endless lives, but you have also raped them. You have indeed raped Life. Raped the living Breath out of us...

Some of you are so used to raping, you can't tell the difference anymore...but She does.

By Allah, by God, by the Force that moves you and I, I see you.

Some of you are short, some are tall, some are too thin, a copy of skeletons about to drown, and some too fat, you can't even see your own member, your organ and you search for it in the folds of your flabby grease. Others ? They brand it like a weapon of mass destruction. And others secretly pray that it will move up and others fear it will be caught...The Whore of Babylon has observed and studied it all...from close and from afar...

She has known the smells and heard the groans of viciousness...What can you possibly teach Her more ?

Every night, by candle light or a two cents lamp, She prepares herself to entice you...She has to.
A few hungry mouths are waiting in the darkness...in the silence. They are more important than her and than you...all of you.

The Whore from Babylon always gets her priorities right.

So she puts up with your odors, your drunkenness, your perversity, your insults, your humiliation, your slurs, your spit, your diseases, your vindictiveness, your pay-back time, your recklessness, your callousness, your indifference...your Impotence.

She puts up because she has been robbed of choice and of pleasure...

She puts up because you – as a man - are no longer important, despite your erections...Oh my, aren't you so powerful.


She has espoused a higher cause – a few hungry mouths waiting in silence, a disabled parent-- too paralyzed to move, a forcefully buried memory that she re-enacts, as you ram away…

And as she washes off your rancid sweat, your polluting semen, images flash through her mind –- a love vanished in a dungeon, or one that never returned. A husband drilled to his bones by the faithful disciples, awaiting their Mahdi Savior. A father, too limp, eaten by Death. A pair of shorts in a morgue because her son's face and body were too disfigured to be recognized. As disfigured as yours, in the shadows, in the total obscurity that surrounds her...

And as she washes off your stench--provided that she has water, you ask for more and she hears your nasal exhalations, reminding her of her "Liberation", and you ram away some more...while the wife or the girlfriend is masturbating or bonking your best friend, neighbor or your lieutenant, to the airs of your overseas love letters...from the new Iraq.

And she remembers her own, masked, the ones she trusted and considered "brothers" ganging up on her, because she bore the wrong name...

By Allah, by God, I want to laugh...Even though there is nothing humorous.

I am shrieking with a cynical laughter and I can't hold back. Because beyond the pain and beyond the misery, your truths shine through...All of you.

I hold the scales in one hand like Ishtar.

I weigh your dirt and I blow it away with one sacred breath, in the temple of my rendered nothingness. And I see your dirt being carried away, scattered away, cleansed, by the winds...

As I look into the mirror of my dressing room, by the candle light, by the two cents lamp...



N.B : A special thank you to Curt – he knows why.
And another thank you to Suki Falconberg –- for remembering the "Whores" from Babylon.

Further reading :

- What kind of sick demented human being would want to have sex with a 10-year-old?
- ‘Freedom’ to Rape Prostitutes in Iraq: Fun and Porn for the Boys
- In Syrian Refuge – Women Find Barest Survival.

And much more...

And just in case you are inspired and/or "erected " – this post was written to the sound of "Babylon Mood" by the unbeatable Iraqi, Oud/Luth composer/artist, the late -Munir Bashir.

Found a close enough extract on youtube.

Sculpture : Iraqi artist, Adel Rasheed.

August 10, 2008

Another Great Loss...


Mahmoud Darwish, one of my favorite Arab (Palestinian) poets died today. A man whose poetry followed me everywhere...
Another great loss for the Arabs.

And we are left with the junk of American globalization, the unending crimes of a New World order and a continuous hemorrhaging Arab world following a forced biceps delivery...

I leave you with one of his poems...

I come from There,

I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.

I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother,
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood,
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up,
To make a single word: Homeland....



And those who just stood and watched, will face a similar day, when they will say - I came from There, once, a long time ago...

PS: For more from Mahmoud Darwish, click here.

Painting : Iraqi female artist, Widad Al-Orfali.

August 7, 2008

Taxi Blues...


I don't know about you, but whenever I get into a cab, I almost always fall on some driver who will go through a litany of woes. It is either an expose of his financial problems, his family problems due to lack, his fights with his nagging wife on money, his sister in hospital, his great grandmother suffering from some incurable disease, his rheumatoid arthritis and how difficult it is for him to continue driving, cost of living and not making ends meet, what horrible drivers others are and how he can't repair his own car - of course, he will invariably fail to include himself as one of the main contributors to reckless driving.

I don't exactly look like Mother Teresa nor like Dr.Ruth nor like some diamond covered Gulf princessa, so I simply don't understand why these cab drivers feel the need to get close and personal. I suspect 9 times out of 10 there is a always a ploy to extract more money. In the past, I used to fall for it, but not anymore. I decided that I was not a social worker, that I had my own financial issues and realized I needed someone to listen to me and "save" me for a change...

Just the other day, it happened again. I got into a cab and he started with the usual -- where are you from ? your accent is foreign, etc...

Believing that he had sussed me out, (and I always mislead cocky ones), he changed the subject to money and inflation...I thought to myself OK this is a classic, he wants to squeeze more money out of me. And it will not work.

He kept staring through his back mirror, and seeing no reaction whatsoever from me, he changed the subject again, this time to religion and charity. Again I did not budge. Another classic.

Then he went into a monologue about Arab history, Amr Ibn Al A'as - a historical figure (not to be confused with Amr Diab, the baby faced Egyptian singer -- for those who are historically challenged, that is) the Islamic Empire, Hadiths from the Prophet, Arab Disunity, Amerikka...

And whenever any Arab talks about Amerikkka, the topic of Iraq has to re-surface like some vomited froth, like a floating amputated limb, like a prickly thorn, like a stone, a rock that refuses to sink into the depths of the water...

So he continued...

" You know ya Set (Madam), The Holy Koran is in ARABIC, the Prophet, Peace and Blessings upon him was an ARAB, surely this is a sign for us.
Look what they did to Saddam Hussein, the ARAB, they presented him to us as a present for the Eid, and we stood there watching. They all stood there watching...
And surely this is a sign for us. He was a TRUE ARAB and a TRUE MUSLIM. He stood fearless, facing death, reciting the Shahada -- there is no God but God and Mohamed is his prophet...And we stood and watched. And do you know why they did what they did ? It is not because of the oil, oil can be acquired through deals, it is because he was the only true Arab leader who stood firmly against Israel and Zionism. Whether I personally like him or not does not matter, what am telling you is the Truth...."


Upon these last words, we reached our destination and I continued " And we are still standing watching, aren't we ? "

I gave him his fare, what we had agreed upon, and he looked at me as if to tell me-- give me more, after all I did say some truths during this ride...And I looked back at him, as if saying -- these kinds of truths are a given, they are not to be remunerated in money.

He left with a frown of disappointment and so did I...

P.S: Forgot this bit - He also said, " We need another Salah El-Deen Al-Ayubi to unite the Muslims and fight the Crusaders " and he added " Remember Salah El-Deen came from Iraq. Surely this must be a sign too."

Painting : Iraqi artist, Waleed.Al-Qaisi.