March 24, 2010

Nimrud's Lamentations, Nimrud's Wrath.4

Took a break to calm myself down a little...I have to go through this, even though I have been avoiding it for the past 5 years...am not expecting that it will change anything, nor that it will make a difference, maybe am just hoping I will be released...

I will not go through every artifact that was looted...google "Iraqi antiquities" and you will have the word loot pop up with every single link...

But what I can tell you as FACT, is that the first batch of smuggled antiquities took place in the early 90's by none other than members of the WMD inspection team first led by R.Butler the CIA spy...then it continued...since these bastards had access to every single site on Iraqi soil, and they could roam and wander as they pleased...their team members were the first looters...

In 2003, the looting of Iraqi antiquities took on a more organized form, thousands of precious, irreplaceable ancient relics disappeared...some dating to the FIRST known civilization to mankind - The Sumerian one.

Damn it's coming on again...another short break.

Resuming...

I have known that Iraqi museum in Baghdad - I used to spend hours in it, studying every piece, admiring them, imagining how they came up with such genius, who inspired them, where did they get the coloring material from, how did they come up with the designs, what was their message, what were they trying to tell me about art, creativity, genius, inventions, their perception of the world, the universe, the cosmos -- and as I asked myself these questions, I was also walking in their footsteps...seeing through their eyes, and through every single piece, I felt we were related, like in a blood line...I felt they were telling me about continuity, about lineage, about origins...mine...ours...they had set the foundation for our collective memory...and they were telling me...look...you can trace back yours millenniums back to us...

So it was with the archeological sites, I would wander there, in their grounds...infusing myself with their signs, with their message, with their spirit...

And at times when I felt lost, I had a few books on antiquities, I would open them and stare at the pictures, over and over again, touching them like talismans...this is how attached I was, am, to our historical heritage...

I don't even know how to explain it in words...am searching for the right sentences to illustrate that bond...that attachment and I can't find them...it's visceral, it's archaic, it's magical...

I am not expecting Iraqis from a younger generation to understand any of it, they are too taken with Michael Jackson, Rap, and Celine Dion or whatever crap they listen to, they are too engrossed with KFC, McDonalds, and mimicking like chimpanzees the Americans of their generation...they are as hopeless as the latter...as stupid and as empty and as ignorant...these Iraqis are crass, they are garbage, like the Americans they imitate...I have no hope and no faith in them...it is not them who will keep the memory alive...and I am not sure they are any left to keep the memory alive...

I need another break...this is too painful for me...