Who am I ? The eternal Question . Have not figured it out fully yet. All you need to know about me is that I am a Middle Easterner, an Arab Woman - old enough to know better. I have no homeland per se...All the rest is icing on the cake. Copyrights reserved 2006-2020
Important Notice - Documentary on Assassinations of Iraqis.
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TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
AL-JAZEERA ARABIC CHANNEL 1 WILL BE AIRING ITS DOCUMENTARY ABOUT THE ASSASSINATIONS OF IRAQI SCIENTISTS, ACADEMICS AND THINKERS ON THURSDAY 8TH APRIL AT 7.00 P.M.
I am very pissed. I do not have many kind words towards my fellow Iraqis. Let me qualify here, before you start jumping to conclusions. I have no kind words towards that category of Iraqis who gave it away for Free to the Americans and the Iranians. I have absolutely no respect for them, no consideration and zero sympathy. I have zero respect for those bastards living and working in the Green zone. I have total disdain for those who voted and now come meagerly complain about "lack of the promised democracy"..."but we voted" broken record. Sure you voted. You voted for your sects and your wallets. I have absolutely no sympathy for those who applauded and filled their blogs with hurrays "Saddam is gone" and now cry over poor Iraq...and congratulate themselves with cheap words of sympathy coming from the occupier. It took a bunch of your kind to make it happen. Now you have lost it all. I do not want to be too cruel and say you deserve what you are getting be
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 deten
I really hate America, Americans, their culture, their ways, their accent, their politics, their arrogance, their stupidity, their ignorance... I really can't stand Americans. I can't stand their men, their women, their country, everything they represent... I truly, deeply, sincerly hate them. I will elevate this hatred to an Art form. What colors do you think I should use ? I love colors and I find them to be a colorless people... So what colors should I use ? Gray, Black or Red ? Or maybe just White ? I have this idea of taking an old sheet, a dirty sheet...burn the edges, stab it with knifes and make holes in it, over a million holes, then throw in some bright red, like rain drops... At other times, I fantasize about using the Abu Ghraib excrements and smudging the sheet with it, then collectively wipe your faces with it. Wipe your faces with the shit of the detainees you tortured. Sometimes, my fantasy takes on a perverted twist, you must be a contagious lot with your perve