I'm sick and my tummy hurts coz I havn't had breakfast yet and it's 1pm, but I digress...
Growing up among two distincly different cultures gives a person the most amazing insight into both cultures, IF that person knows where to look.
Ofcoures you get some disadvantages, hardships, it may even make it worthless having this experience and insight.
One recurring experience many people of my breed always cite is not quite feeling "at home" anywhere. In my case it's Australia and everywhere else. I love Melbourne and I've very happy and comfortable living in it, but it doesn't feel like home, where ever I go I'm always asked where I'm "originally" from. Well I was born in Iraq but I havn't been there since 94. and if I GO to iraq, I would be asked wher I came from, and that's another cup of crap because alot of arabs and iraqis who haven't been able to travel or live overseas hate your guts, and they mostly convey that distaste for your kind by putting you down all the time, you could be a frickin arabic scholar but they'll still make fun of your bad arabic, you would be wearing normal jeans and a polo shirt and they'd be like, ooh look at what the austorali is wearing. this hasn't happened to me but you knwo what I mean.
I must also note that not all people are like that, there are very nice people who respect and honour you genuniely, but usually the bad experiences trump the good ones.
But I digress...
NOTE I wrote this a while ago and left it, now I want to publish it but I've lost my train of thought, so I'll just leave it unfinished
In the case of the danish newspaper cartoon offenseive Mohammad (pbuh) etc... issue. I sometimes get the feeling of having one eye on the arab or muslim camp, and another eye on the western camp. and since I'm one person, all I can do is look, and blog.
The arabs on one side have mixed feelinsg about the west, they look up to and imitate the west in music and cars and expressions and if you go the gulf countries and some middle east countries as well you would find all sorts of Western university campuses. A lady I know graduated from a "perston university" where she had her degree signed by Condeleeza Rice ! ! ! (That lady is not a spy btw).
However, arabs have a deep distrust of the west as crusaders, mainly because of the iraq war and probably alot of it has to do with left over feelings from the colonisations years. Coupled with a mob mentality and complete lack of real understanding of how people in the west think, any little action is seen as a predetermined insult on islam.
Most of these people are not very relegious at all, which makes it even worse because theír reactions to "protect the honour of islam" is usually very islamic, like burning shit and killing nuns etc... thier idea of dealing with the problem seems to be maximum violence to scare the west into submission.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Sunday, February 03, 2008
The undersea-cable-gate
THREE days ago I was updating my computer after having formatted it and done all the updates, all of a sudden ! (Wednesday 30th January around midday) my 1 Mbps superfast internet connection suddenly slows down to dialup rate ! I tried calling the help and support numbers listed for my ISP (I won't mention who it is, but it rhymes with entisalat), and the number wasn't even on ! it was wierd.
Later on news surfaces about a ship's anchor appearantly left dragging on the sea floor in the red or medditeranian sea, which caused damage to the undersea internet cable that connects the world regions of USA-Europ to the Middle East/Asia, or something like that.
My wife wondered aloud at how strange it is that an anchor would damage an obviously well protected cable (since it connects the world and it already has to be tough enough to withstand natural disasters etc...), I, being so romantically trustful of the media, said "no no, it was in the news, it MUST have happened".
Today the news man on the radio told me it wasn't one cable but THREE ! and the ship despatched by an indian company to fix the cables is stuck in Abu Dhabi because of weather concerns. So from now it would take ten days to fix the lines.
Then I heard that Israel and Iraq weren't affected, and that Iran was FULLY affected, that is, no internet at all !
Interesting...
After putting my ears to the ground, I starting listening and thinking about the holes in this story. Most of which the ground gave me (the ground here is anti establishment websites and blogs peppering the internet).
1- The Cables: These are HUGE cables, they connect world regions ! they're not supposed to break so easily, one cable breaking is fair enough, shit happens right ? but four cables breaking ?
LAYERS:
1--Polyethylene
2--"Mylar" tape
3--Stranded metal (steel) wires
4--Aluminum water barrier
5--Polycarbonate
6--Copper or aluminum tube
7--Petroleum jelly
8--Optical fibers
2- For something this important and vital to world communication, commerce, politics etc... the only company that can fix it is an indian company ? Really ?
No disrespect to indians, but really man, something this big should be planned for, like having a plan for when it goes down. It happening in the red sea, shoudln't there be a trusted company worth its salt and having some sort of HQ in the middle east to fix this ? Allahu a3lam.
3- AFP reporst that the Egyptian communications ministry denied the posibility of ships breaking the cable in the red sea because there were no ships seen over that patch of water where the cables were damaged (according to footage kept by cameras kept by the ministry), so if it wasn't ships, what was it ? and why would ships be blamed ?
4- (Here is the real whoppper) AND I quote "(I-Newswire) - Multiple reports that internet cables connecting Iran to the rest of the world have been “cut” are raising suspicions in the minds of experts on 9/11 that something serious may be in the works. According to James H. Fetzer, founder of Scholars for 9/11 Truth, “Prior to 9/11, the FBI—our own FBI—shut down Arab Muslim web sites ( whatreallyhappened.com/fbishsut ). Some of us fear that internet access may have been deliberately severed to isolate Iran and make it difficult to communicate in response to a ‘false flag’ attack in the United States, possibly during the Super Bowl, an attack upon Iran, or both.”
This may sound crazy or far fetched, but why would we doubt the US in some crasy plot to invade a country ? unless our memory span is less than 7 years old, we should see this coming.
Also, it makes perfect strategic sense to cut off your enemy's communication before you make your move. it's like SWAT teams cutting off phone and electricity lines before going in to free the hostage.
You descide, is there something fishy going on under the sea (PUN !), is this really a prelude to war ? are indians really the best people to fix this problem ?
PS, thanks to
http://www.rumormillnews.com/cgi-bin/forum.cgi?read=118041
http://www.khaleejtimes.com/DisplayArticleNew.asp?xfile=data/theworld/2008/February/theworld_February77.xml§ion=theworld&col
http://www.i-newswire.com/pr148510.html
Later on news surfaces about a ship's anchor appearantly left dragging on the sea floor in the red or medditeranian sea, which caused damage to the undersea internet cable that connects the world regions of USA-Europ to the Middle East/Asia, or something like that.
My wife wondered aloud at how strange it is that an anchor would damage an obviously well protected cable (since it connects the world and it already has to be tough enough to withstand natural disasters etc...), I, being so romantically trustful of the media, said "no no, it was in the news, it MUST have happened".
Today the news man on the radio told me it wasn't one cable but THREE ! and the ship despatched by an indian company to fix the cables is stuck in Abu Dhabi because of weather concerns. So from now it would take ten days to fix the lines.
Then I heard that Israel and Iraq weren't affected, and that Iran was FULLY affected, that is, no internet at all !
Interesting...
After putting my ears to the ground, I starting listening and thinking about the holes in this story. Most of which the ground gave me (the ground here is anti establishment websites and blogs peppering the internet).
1- The Cables: These are HUGE cables, they connect world regions ! they're not supposed to break so easily, one cable breaking is fair enough, shit happens right ? but four cables breaking ?
LAYERS:
1--Polyethylene
2--"Mylar" tape
3--Stranded metal (steel) wires
4--Aluminum water barrier
5--Polycarbonate
6--Copper or aluminum tube
7--Petroleum jelly
8--Optical fibers
2- For something this important and vital to world communication, commerce, politics etc... the only company that can fix it is an indian company ? Really ?
No disrespect to indians, but really man, something this big should be planned for, like having a plan for when it goes down. It happening in the red sea, shoudln't there be a trusted company worth its salt and having some sort of HQ in the middle east to fix this ? Allahu a3lam.
3- AFP reporst that the Egyptian communications ministry denied the posibility of ships breaking the cable in the red sea because there were no ships seen over that patch of water where the cables were damaged (according to footage kept by cameras kept by the ministry), so if it wasn't ships, what was it ? and why would ships be blamed ?
4- (Here is the real whoppper) AND I quote "(I-Newswire) - Multiple reports that internet cables connecting Iran to the rest of the world have been “cut” are raising suspicions in the minds of experts on 9/11 that something serious may be in the works. According to James H. Fetzer, founder of Scholars for 9/11 Truth, “Prior to 9/11, the FBI—our own FBI—shut down Arab Muslim web sites ( whatreallyhappened.com/fbishsut ). Some of us fear that internet access may have been deliberately severed to isolate Iran and make it difficult to communicate in response to a ‘false flag’ attack in the United States, possibly during the Super Bowl, an attack upon Iran, or both.”
This may sound crazy or far fetched, but why would we doubt the US in some crasy plot to invade a country ? unless our memory span is less than 7 years old, we should see this coming.
Also, it makes perfect strategic sense to cut off your enemy's communication before you make your move. it's like SWAT teams cutting off phone and electricity lines before going in to free the hostage.
You descide, is there something fishy going on under the sea (PUN !), is this really a prelude to war ? are indians really the best people to fix this problem ?
PS, thanks to
http://www.rumormillnews.com/cgi-bin/forum.cgi?read=118041
http://www.khaleejtimes.com/DisplayArticleNew.asp?xfile=data/theworld/2008/February/theworld_February77.xml§ion=theworld&col
http://www.i-newswire.com/pr148510.html
Friday, January 25, 2008
Abla's Eyes
My dad forwards some really nice material of generally islamic, political and cultural nature. This poem I quite liked and thought I'd share.
عيون عبلة
(1) كَفْكِف دموعَكَ وانسحِبْ يا عنترة
فعيونُ عبلةَ أصبحَتْ مُستعمَرَه
( 2 ) لا ترجُ بسمةَ ثغرِها يوماً، فقدْ
سقطَت من العِقدِ الثمينِ الجوهرة
( 3 ) قبِّلْ سيوفَ الغاصبينَ.. ليصفَحوا
واخفِضْ جَنَاحَ "الخِزْيِ".. وارجُ المعذرة
( 4 ) ولْتبتلع أبياتَ فخرِكَ صامتاً
فالشعرُ في عصرِ القنابلِ ثرثرة
( 5 ) والسيفُ في وجهِ البنادقِ عاجزٌ
فقدَ الهُويّةَ والقُوى والسيطرة
( 6 ) فاجمعْ مَفاخِرَكَ القديمةَ كلَّها
واجعلْ لها مِن قاعِ صدرِكَ مقبرة
( 7 ) وابعثْ لعبلةَ في العراقِ تأسُّفاً
وابعثْ لها في القدسِ قبلَ الغرغرة
( 8 ) اكتبْ لها ما
كنتَ تكتبُه لها
تحتَ الظلالِ، وفي الليالي المقمرة:
( 9 ) "يا دارَ عبلةَ" بالعراقِ "تكلّمي"
هل أصبحَتْ جنّاتُ بابلَ مقفرة؟!
( 10 ) هل نَهْرُ عبلةَ تُستباحُ مِياهُهُ
وكلابُ أمريكا تُدنِّس كوثرَه؟!
( 11 ) يا فارسَ البيداءِ.. صِرتَ فريسةً
عبداً ذليلاً أسوداً ما أحقرَه!!
( 12 ) متطرِّفاً.. متخلِّفاً.. ومخالِفاً
نَسَبوا لكَ الإرهابَ.. صِرتَ مُعسكَرَه
( 13 ) عَبْسٌ.. تخلّت عنكَ.. هذا دأبُهم
حُمُرٌ -لَعمرُكَ- كلُّها مستنفِرَه
( 14 ) في الجاهليةِ.. كنتَ وحدكَ قادراً
أن تهزِمَ الجيشَ العظيمَ وتأسِرَه
( 15 ) لن تستطيعَ الآنَ وحدكَ قهرَهُ
فالزحفُ موجٌ.. والقنابلُ ممطرة
( 16 ) وحصانُكَ العَرَبيُّ ضاعَ صهيلُهُ
بينَ الدويِّ.. وبينَ صرخةِ مُجبَرَه
( 17 ) "هلاّ سألتِ الخيلَ يا ابنةَ مالِكٍ"
كيفَ الصمودُ؟! وأينَ أينَ المقدرة؟!
( 18 ) هذا الحصانُ يرى المَدافعَ حولَهُ
متأهِّباتٍ.. والقذائفَ مُشهَرَه
( 19 ) "لو كانَ يدري ما المحاورةُ اشتكى"
ولَصاحَ في وجهِ القطيعِ وحذَّرَه
( 20 ) يا ويحَ عبسٍ.. أسلَمُوا أعداءَهم
مفتاحَ
خيمتِهم، ومَدُّوا القنطرة
( 21 ) فأتى العدوُّ مُسلَّحاً بشقاقِهم
ونفاقِهم، وأقام فيهم منبرَه
( 22 ) ذاقوا وَبَالَ ركوعِهم وخُنوعِهم
فالعيشُ مُرٌّ.. والهزائمُ مُنكَرَه
( 23 ) هذِي يدُ الأوطانِ تجزي أهلَها
مَن يقترفْ في حقّها شرّاً.. يَرَه
( 24 ) ضاعت عُبَيلةُ.. والنياقُ... ودارُها
لم يبقَ شيءٌ بَعدَها كي نخسرَه
( 25 ) فدَعوا ضميرَ العُربِ يرقد ساكناً
في قبرِهِ.. وادْعوا لهُ.. بالمغفرة
( 26 ) عَجَزَ الكلامُ عن الكلامِ.. وريشتي
لم تُبقِ دمعاً أو دماً في المحبرة
( 27 ) وعيونُ عبلةَ لا تزالُ دموعُها
تترقَّبُ الجِسْرَ البعيدَ.. لِتَعبُرَه
word
عيون عبلة
(1) كَفْكِف دموعَكَ وانسحِبْ يا عنترة
فعيونُ عبلةَ أصبحَتْ مُستعمَرَه
( 2 ) لا ترجُ بسمةَ ثغرِها يوماً، فقدْ
سقطَت من العِقدِ الثمينِ الجوهرة
( 3 ) قبِّلْ سيوفَ الغاصبينَ.. ليصفَحوا
واخفِضْ جَنَاحَ "الخِزْيِ".. وارجُ المعذرة
( 4 ) ولْتبتلع أبياتَ فخرِكَ صامتاً
فالشعرُ في عصرِ القنابلِ ثرثرة
( 5 ) والسيفُ في وجهِ البنادقِ عاجزٌ
فقدَ الهُويّةَ والقُوى والسيطرة
( 6 ) فاجمعْ مَفاخِرَكَ القديمةَ كلَّها
واجعلْ لها مِن قاعِ صدرِكَ مقبرة
( 7 ) وابعثْ لعبلةَ في العراقِ تأسُّفاً
وابعثْ لها في القدسِ قبلَ الغرغرة
( 8 ) اكتبْ لها ما
كنتَ تكتبُه لها
تحتَ الظلالِ، وفي الليالي المقمرة:
( 9 ) "يا دارَ عبلةَ" بالعراقِ "تكلّمي"
هل أصبحَتْ جنّاتُ بابلَ مقفرة؟!
( 10 ) هل نَهْرُ عبلةَ تُستباحُ مِياهُهُ
وكلابُ أمريكا تُدنِّس كوثرَه؟!
( 11 ) يا فارسَ البيداءِ.. صِرتَ فريسةً
عبداً ذليلاً أسوداً ما أحقرَه!!
( 12 ) متطرِّفاً.. متخلِّفاً.. ومخالِفاً
نَسَبوا لكَ الإرهابَ.. صِرتَ مُعسكَرَه
( 13 ) عَبْسٌ.. تخلّت عنكَ.. هذا دأبُهم
حُمُرٌ -لَعمرُكَ- كلُّها مستنفِرَه
( 14 ) في الجاهليةِ.. كنتَ وحدكَ قادراً
أن تهزِمَ الجيشَ العظيمَ وتأسِرَه
( 15 ) لن تستطيعَ الآنَ وحدكَ قهرَهُ
فالزحفُ موجٌ.. والقنابلُ ممطرة
( 16 ) وحصانُكَ العَرَبيُّ ضاعَ صهيلُهُ
بينَ الدويِّ.. وبينَ صرخةِ مُجبَرَه
( 17 ) "هلاّ سألتِ الخيلَ يا ابنةَ مالِكٍ"
كيفَ الصمودُ؟! وأينَ أينَ المقدرة؟!
( 18 ) هذا الحصانُ يرى المَدافعَ حولَهُ
متأهِّباتٍ.. والقذائفَ مُشهَرَه
( 19 ) "لو كانَ يدري ما المحاورةُ اشتكى"
ولَصاحَ في وجهِ القطيعِ وحذَّرَه
( 20 ) يا ويحَ عبسٍ.. أسلَمُوا أعداءَهم
مفتاحَ
خيمتِهم، ومَدُّوا القنطرة
( 21 ) فأتى العدوُّ مُسلَّحاً بشقاقِهم
ونفاقِهم، وأقام فيهم منبرَه
( 22 ) ذاقوا وَبَالَ ركوعِهم وخُنوعِهم
فالعيشُ مُرٌّ.. والهزائمُ مُنكَرَه
( 23 ) هذِي يدُ الأوطانِ تجزي أهلَها
مَن يقترفْ في حقّها شرّاً.. يَرَه
( 24 ) ضاعت عُبَيلةُ.. والنياقُ... ودارُها
لم يبقَ شيءٌ بَعدَها كي نخسرَه
( 25 ) فدَعوا ضميرَ العُربِ يرقد ساكناً
في قبرِهِ.. وادْعوا لهُ.. بالمغفرة
( 26 ) عَجَزَ الكلامُ عن الكلامِ.. وريشتي
لم تُبقِ دمعاً أو دماً في المحبرة
( 27 ) وعيونُ عبلةَ لا تزالُ دموعُها
تترقَّبُ الجِسْرَ البعيدَ.. لِتَعبُرَه
word
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Ahmad matter
Ahmat Mattar is an amazing poet, and I'm proud to say he's iraqi as well. His poetry is political about both the arab street and the global status quo. If you can arabic, you're very lucky to read his poetry because it'll really make you think, otherwise, too bad, I've already butchered enough arab poems by translating them, never again.
!نعـم .. أنا إرهابي
الغربُ يبكي خيفـةً
إذا صَنعتُ لُعبـةً
.مِـن عُلبـةِ الثُقابِ
وَهْـوَ الّذي يصنـعُ لي
مِـن جَسَـدي مِشنَقَـةً
.حِبالُها أعصابـي
والغَـربُ يرتاعُ إذا
إذعتُ ، يومـاً ، أَنّـهُ
.مَـزّقَ لي جلبابـي
وهـوَ الّذي يهيبُ بي
أنْ أستَحي مِنْ أدبـي
وأنْ أُذيـعَ فرحـتي
..ومُنتهى إعجابـي
!إنْ مارسَ اغتصـابي
والغربُ يلتـاعُ إذا
عَبـدتُ ربّـاً واحِـداً
.في هـدأةِ المِحـرابِ
وَهْـوَ الذي يعجِـنُ لي
مِـنْ شَعَـراتِ ذيلِـهِ
ومِـنْ تُرابِ نَعلِـهِ
ألفـاً مِـنَ الأربابِ
ينصُبُهـمْ فـوقَ ذُرا
مَزابِـلِ الألقابِ
لِكي أكـونَ عَبـدَهُـمْ
وَكَـيْ أؤدّي عِنـدَهُـمْ
!شعائرَ الذُبابِ
وَهْـوَ .. وَهُـمْ
سيَضرِبونني إذا
.أعلنتُ عن إضـرابي
وإنْ ذَكَـرتُ عِنـدَهُـمْ
رائِحـةَ الأزهـارِ والأعشـابِ
سيصلبونني علـى
!لائحـةِ الإرهـابِ
**
رائعـةٌ كُلُّ فعـالِ الغربِ والأذنابِ
أمّـا أنا، فإنّني
مادامَ للحُريّـةِ انتسابي
فكُلُّ ما أفعَلُـهُ
!نـوعٌ مِـنَ الإرهـابِ
**
هُـمْ خَرّبـوا لي عالَمـي
فليحصـدوا ما زَرَعـوا
إنْ أثمَـرَتْ فـوقَ فَمـي
وفي كُريّـاتِ دمـي
عَـولَمـةُ الخَـرابِ
.هـا أنَـذا أقولُهـا
..أكتُبُهـا .. أرسُمُهـا
أَطبعُهـا على جبينِ الغـرْبِ
:بالقُبقـابِ
!نَعَـمْ .. أنا إرهابـي
زلزَلـةُ الأرضِ لهـا أسبابُها
!إنْ تُدرِكوهـا تُدرِكـوا أسبابي
لـنْ أحمِـلَ الأقـلامَ
!بلْ مخالِبـي
لَنْ أشحَـذَ الأفكـارَ
!بـلْ أنيابـي
وَلـنْ أعـودَ طيّباً
حـتّى أرى
شـريعـةَ الغابِ بِكُلِّ أهلِها
.عائـدةً للغابِ
**
.نَعَـمْ .. أنا إرهابـي
أنصَـحُ كُلّ مُخْبـرٍ
ينبـحُ، بعـدَ اليـومِ، في أعقابـي
أن يرتـدي دَبّـابـةً
لأنّني .. سـوفَ أدقُّ رأسَـهُ
!إنْ دَقَّ ، يومـاً، بابـي
!نعـم .. أنا إرهابي
الغربُ يبكي خيفـةً
إذا صَنعتُ لُعبـةً
.مِـن عُلبـةِ الثُقابِ
وَهْـوَ الّذي يصنـعُ لي
مِـن جَسَـدي مِشنَقَـةً
.حِبالُها أعصابـي
والغَـربُ يرتاعُ إذا
إذعتُ ، يومـاً ، أَنّـهُ
.مَـزّقَ لي جلبابـي
وهـوَ الّذي يهيبُ بي
أنْ أستَحي مِنْ أدبـي
وأنْ أُذيـعَ فرحـتي
..ومُنتهى إعجابـي
!إنْ مارسَ اغتصـابي
والغربُ يلتـاعُ إذا
عَبـدتُ ربّـاً واحِـداً
.في هـدأةِ المِحـرابِ
وَهْـوَ الذي يعجِـنُ لي
مِـنْ شَعَـراتِ ذيلِـهِ
ومِـنْ تُرابِ نَعلِـهِ
ألفـاً مِـنَ الأربابِ
ينصُبُهـمْ فـوقَ ذُرا
مَزابِـلِ الألقابِ
لِكي أكـونَ عَبـدَهُـمْ
وَكَـيْ أؤدّي عِنـدَهُـمْ
!شعائرَ الذُبابِ
وَهْـوَ .. وَهُـمْ
سيَضرِبونني إذا
.أعلنتُ عن إضـرابي
وإنْ ذَكَـرتُ عِنـدَهُـمْ
رائِحـةَ الأزهـارِ والأعشـابِ
سيصلبونني علـى
!لائحـةِ الإرهـابِ
**
رائعـةٌ كُلُّ فعـالِ الغربِ والأذنابِ
أمّـا أنا، فإنّني
مادامَ للحُريّـةِ انتسابي
فكُلُّ ما أفعَلُـهُ
!نـوعٌ مِـنَ الإرهـابِ
**
هُـمْ خَرّبـوا لي عالَمـي
فليحصـدوا ما زَرَعـوا
إنْ أثمَـرَتْ فـوقَ فَمـي
وفي كُريّـاتِ دمـي
عَـولَمـةُ الخَـرابِ
.هـا أنَـذا أقولُهـا
..أكتُبُهـا .. أرسُمُهـا
أَطبعُهـا على جبينِ الغـرْبِ
:بالقُبقـابِ
!نَعَـمْ .. أنا إرهابـي
زلزَلـةُ الأرضِ لهـا أسبابُها
!إنْ تُدرِكوهـا تُدرِكـوا أسبابي
لـنْ أحمِـلَ الأقـلامَ
!بلْ مخالِبـي
لَنْ أشحَـذَ الأفكـارَ
!بـلْ أنيابـي
وَلـنْ أعـودَ طيّباً
حـتّى أرى
شـريعـةَ الغابِ بِكُلِّ أهلِها
.عائـدةً للغابِ
**
.نَعَـمْ .. أنا إرهابـي
أنصَـحُ كُلّ مُخْبـرٍ
ينبـحُ، بعـدَ اليـومِ، في أعقابـي
أن يرتـدي دَبّـابـةً
لأنّني .. سـوفَ أدقُّ رأسَـهُ
!إنْ دَقَّ ، يومـاً، بابـي
Ahmad matter
Ahmat Mattar is an amazing poet, and I'm proud to say he's iraqi as well. His poetry is subtle and loud at the same time. mostly it's against the status quo of arab leadership now and 30 years ago, however this one is against the opression caused by the so called war on terror.
!نعـم .. أنا إرهابي
الغربُ يبكي خيفـةً
إذا صَنعتُ لُعبـةً
.مِـن عُلبـةِ الثُقابِ
وَهْـوَ الّذي يصنـعُ لي
مِـن جَسَـدي مِشنَقَـةً
.حِبالُها أعصابـي
والغَـربُ يرتاعُ إذا
إذعتُ ، يومـاً ، أَنّـهُ
.مَـزّقَ لي جلبابـي
وهـوَ الّذي يهيبُ بي
أنْ أستَحي مِنْ أدبـي
وأنْ أُذيـعَ فرحـتي
..ومُنتهى إعجابـي
!إنْ مارسَ اغتصـابي
والغربُ يلتـاعُ إذا
عَبـدتُ ربّـاً واحِـداً
.في هـدأةِ المِحـرابِ
وَهْـوَ الذي يعجِـنُ لي
مِـنْ شَعَـراتِ ذيلِـهِ
ومِـنْ تُرابِ نَعلِـهِ
ألفـاً مِـنَ الأربابِ
ينصُبُهـمْ فـوقَ ذُرا
مَزابِـلِ الألقابِ
لِكي أكـونَ عَبـدَهُـمْ
وَكَـيْ أؤدّي عِنـدَهُـمْ
!شعائرَ الذُبابِ
وَهْـوَ .. وَهُـمْ
سيَضرِبونني إذا
.أعلنتُ عن إضـرابي
وإنْ ذَكَـرتُ عِنـدَهُـمْ
رائِحـةَ الأزهـارِ والأعشـابِ
سيصلبونني علـى
!لائحـةِ الإرهـابِ
**
رائعـةٌ كُلُّ فعـالِ الغربِ والأذنابِ
أمّـا أنا، فإنّني
مادامَ للحُريّـةِ انتسابي
فكُلُّ ما أفعَلُـهُ
!نـوعٌ مِـنَ الإرهـابِ
**
هُـمْ خَرّبـوا لي عالَمـي
فليحصـدوا ما زَرَعـوا
إنْ أثمَـرَتْ فـوقَ فَمـي
وفي كُريّـاتِ دمـي
عَـولَمـةُ الخَـرابِ
.هـا أنَـذا أقولُهـا
..أكتُبُهـا .. أرسُمُهـا
أَطبعُهـا على جبينِ الغـرْبِ
:بالقُبقـابِ
!نَعَـمْ .. أنا إرهابـي
زلزَلـةُ الأرضِ لهـا أسبابُها
!إنْ تُدرِكوهـا تُدرِكـوا أسبابي
لـنْ أحمِـلَ الأقـلامَ
!بلْ مخالِبـي
لَنْ أشحَـذَ الأفكـارَ
!بـلْ أنيابـي
وَلـنْ أعـودَ طيّباً
حـتّى أرى
شـريعـةَ الغابِ بِكُلِّ أهلِها
.عائـدةً للغابِ
**
.نَعَـمْ .. أنا إرهابـي
أنصَـحُ كُلّ مُخْبـرٍ
ينبـحُ، بعـدَ اليـومِ، في أعقابـي
أن يرتـدي دَبّـابـةً
لأنّني .. سـوفَ أدقُّ رأسَـهُ
!إنْ دَقَّ ، يومـاً، بابـي
Here is the very rough translation (Note: Qubqab is an old style arabic shoe)
_______
Yes I am a terrorist,
The west screams in terror
if I made a toy
from a match box
Though he is the one who makes for me
From my body, a noose to hang me
Its ropes are my nerves
The west panics if
I, one day claimed
That he tore my clothes
He is the one that intimidates me into
Being shy of my morality
And to broadcast my happiness
And my utter awe
If he starts to rape me
The west panics if
I worshipped one god
In the serenity of my temple
He is the one who makes for me
From the hair on his tail
And from the dust of his shoes
Thousands of deities
To perch up on high
So that I may be THEIR slave
And so that I would carry out at their feet
the rituals of flies
And he, and tHEY
Would beat me if
I called a strike
And if I speak in their presence
Of the fragrances of the roses and the herbs
They will crucify me
On the stake of terrorism
All the deed of the west and their allies are achievements
Except for me, for if
As long as I belong to freedom
Then anything I do
Is counted as terrorism
They destroyed my world
So let them reap what they sowed
If over my mouth
And in my blood cells
The globalization of corruption came into fruition
Here I am, saying it
Writing it, drawing it
Imprinting it on the west’s forhead
With the Qubqab
YES I am a terrorist
The earth has its reasons for quaking
If you understand that, you’ll understand my reasons
I will not carry my pens
But my claws
I will not sharpen my thoughts
But my fangs
And I will not be happy
Until I see
The law of the jungle with all its decrees
Return to the jungle
Yes, I am a terrorist
I advice every investigator
Barking –after today- after me
To dress in a tank
Because I will knock him downIf he came one day knocking at my door
!نعـم .. أنا إرهابي
الغربُ يبكي خيفـةً
إذا صَنعتُ لُعبـةً
.مِـن عُلبـةِ الثُقابِ
وَهْـوَ الّذي يصنـعُ لي
مِـن جَسَـدي مِشنَقَـةً
.حِبالُها أعصابـي
والغَـربُ يرتاعُ إذا
إذعتُ ، يومـاً ، أَنّـهُ
.مَـزّقَ لي جلبابـي
وهـوَ الّذي يهيبُ بي
أنْ أستَحي مِنْ أدبـي
وأنْ أُذيـعَ فرحـتي
..ومُنتهى إعجابـي
!إنْ مارسَ اغتصـابي
والغربُ يلتـاعُ إذا
عَبـدتُ ربّـاً واحِـداً
.في هـدأةِ المِحـرابِ
وَهْـوَ الذي يعجِـنُ لي
مِـنْ شَعَـراتِ ذيلِـهِ
ومِـنْ تُرابِ نَعلِـهِ
ألفـاً مِـنَ الأربابِ
ينصُبُهـمْ فـوقَ ذُرا
مَزابِـلِ الألقابِ
لِكي أكـونَ عَبـدَهُـمْ
وَكَـيْ أؤدّي عِنـدَهُـمْ
!شعائرَ الذُبابِ
وَهْـوَ .. وَهُـمْ
سيَضرِبونني إذا
.أعلنتُ عن إضـرابي
وإنْ ذَكَـرتُ عِنـدَهُـمْ
رائِحـةَ الأزهـارِ والأعشـابِ
سيصلبونني علـى
!لائحـةِ الإرهـابِ
**
رائعـةٌ كُلُّ فعـالِ الغربِ والأذنابِ
أمّـا أنا، فإنّني
مادامَ للحُريّـةِ انتسابي
فكُلُّ ما أفعَلُـهُ
!نـوعٌ مِـنَ الإرهـابِ
**
هُـمْ خَرّبـوا لي عالَمـي
فليحصـدوا ما زَرَعـوا
إنْ أثمَـرَتْ فـوقَ فَمـي
وفي كُريّـاتِ دمـي
عَـولَمـةُ الخَـرابِ
.هـا أنَـذا أقولُهـا
..أكتُبُهـا .. أرسُمُهـا
أَطبعُهـا على جبينِ الغـرْبِ
:بالقُبقـابِ
!نَعَـمْ .. أنا إرهابـي
زلزَلـةُ الأرضِ لهـا أسبابُها
!إنْ تُدرِكوهـا تُدرِكـوا أسبابي
لـنْ أحمِـلَ الأقـلامَ
!بلْ مخالِبـي
لَنْ أشحَـذَ الأفكـارَ
!بـلْ أنيابـي
وَلـنْ أعـودَ طيّباً
حـتّى أرى
شـريعـةَ الغابِ بِكُلِّ أهلِها
.عائـدةً للغابِ
**
.نَعَـمْ .. أنا إرهابـي
أنصَـحُ كُلّ مُخْبـرٍ
ينبـحُ، بعـدَ اليـومِ، في أعقابـي
أن يرتـدي دَبّـابـةً
لأنّني .. سـوفَ أدقُّ رأسَـهُ
!إنْ دَقَّ ، يومـاً، بابـي
Here is the very rough translation (Note: Qubqab is an old style arabic shoe)
_______
Yes I am a terrorist,
The west screams in terror
if I made a toy
from a match box
Though he is the one who makes for me
From my body, a noose to hang me
Its ropes are my nerves
The west panics if
I, one day claimed
That he tore my clothes
He is the one that intimidates me into
Being shy of my morality
And to broadcast my happiness
And my utter awe
If he starts to rape me
The west panics if
I worshipped one god
In the serenity of my temple
He is the one who makes for me
From the hair on his tail
And from the dust of his shoes
Thousands of deities
To perch up on high
So that I may be THEIR slave
And so that I would carry out at their feet
the rituals of flies
And he, and tHEY
Would beat me if
I called a strike
And if I speak in their presence
Of the fragrances of the roses and the herbs
They will crucify me
On the stake of terrorism
All the deed of the west and their allies are achievements
Except for me, for if
As long as I belong to freedom
Then anything I do
Is counted as terrorism
They destroyed my world
So let them reap what they sowed
If over my mouth
And in my blood cells
The globalization of corruption came into fruition
Here I am, saying it
Writing it, drawing it
Imprinting it on the west’s forhead
With the Qubqab
YES I am a terrorist
The earth has its reasons for quaking
If you understand that, you’ll understand my reasons
I will not carry my pens
But my claws
I will not sharpen my thoughts
But my fangs
And I will not be happy
Until I see
The law of the jungle with all its decrees
Return to the jungle
Yes, I am a terrorist
I advice every investigator
Barking –after today- after me
To dress in a tank
Because I will knock him downIf he came one day knocking at my door
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The subjectivity of art.
So I was talking to Tarek (aka The Gist) about movies and life, and he mentioned a movie he was planning to watch called Peppermint Candy, "Appearantly it's good, it's like the movie momento, it tells the story backwards". I looked it up on imdb and the feedback was good, so I aquired it to gain some cultural depth etc...
Well I'm watching it now, and maybe my cultural depth meter is broken, maybe I just don't see things like other people do, but I don't like this movie.
I can't judge it fully though since I'm only 40 minutes into this 2 hour movie, and it does give me a glimpse into korean society so that's cool.
Otherwise it's a depressing slow movie, there is no soundtrack, there is a depressed as guy who dances randomly, cried randomy. Also I've observed the most facinating way to deal with a man who sleeps with your wife, korean style. . .
People say art is subjective, I don't want to sound like a knowitall, however I can since I'm not a world class blogger, I can afford to say anything I want on my blog.
I think art is not as subjective as people hype it out to be, and this movie is a perfect example, it might be interesting, but it's not really that good that I have to sit through 2 hours of it.
The other day I went to a photographic exhibition for a bunch of professional photographers, I looked around and I have to say some shots were quite nice, and some were even jaw dropping. But some shots were so ordinary that I'm left wondering, why the frick is that guy exhibiting his work ? he should be knee deep in workshops etc... trying to fix his crappy photography !
A lot of mass consumption art 'concepts' are attractive for one reason only, not because they're especially good in any way, but because they're hyped in a way so that any person who isn't in that concept would feel shallow and redneck-esque (I just made up a term). Or at least that's my opinion.
Anyways, back to watching this crappy movie.
Well I'm watching it now, and maybe my cultural depth meter is broken, maybe I just don't see things like other people do, but I don't like this movie.
I can't judge it fully though since I'm only 40 minutes into this 2 hour movie, and it does give me a glimpse into korean society so that's cool.
Otherwise it's a depressing slow movie, there is no soundtrack, there is a depressed as guy who dances randomly, cried randomy. Also I've observed the most facinating way to deal with a man who sleeps with your wife, korean style. . .
People say art is subjective, I don't want to sound like a knowitall, however I can since I'm not a world class blogger, I can afford to say anything I want on my blog.
I think art is not as subjective as people hype it out to be, and this movie is a perfect example, it might be interesting, but it's not really that good that I have to sit through 2 hours of it.
The other day I went to a photographic exhibition for a bunch of professional photographers, I looked around and I have to say some shots were quite nice, and some were even jaw dropping. But some shots were so ordinary that I'm left wondering, why the frick is that guy exhibiting his work ? he should be knee deep in workshops etc... trying to fix his crappy photography !
A lot of mass consumption art 'concepts' are attractive for one reason only, not because they're especially good in any way, but because they're hyped in a way so that any person who isn't in that concept would feel shallow and redneck-esque (I just made up a term). Or at least that's my opinion.
Anyways, back to watching this crappy movie.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Jesus is Shi3a
'Islamic Jesus' hits movie screens
Tuesday Jan 15 15:31 AEDT
The thing about most art is that it almost always has an agenda behind it.
"A director who shares the ideas of Iran's hardline president has produced what he says is the first film giving an Islamic view of Jesus Christ, in a bid to show "common ground" between Muslims and Christians.
Nader Talebzadeh sees his movie, Jesus, the Spirit of God, as an Islamic answer to Western productions like Mel Gibson's 2004 blockbuster The Passion of the Christ, which he praised as admirable but quite simply "wrong"."
"Talebzadeh insists it aims to bridge differences between Christianity and Islam, despite the stark divergence from Christian doctrine about Christ's final hours on earth.
'It is fascinating for Christians to know that Islam gives such devotion to and has so much knowledge about Jesus," Talebzadeh said.' "
This is interesting however.
"The director is also keen to emphasise the links between Jesus and one of the most important figures in Shiite Islam, the Imam Mahdi, said to have disappeared 12 centuries ago but whose "return" to earth has been a key tenet of the Ahmadinejad presidency."
"Shiite Muslims, the majority in Iran, believe Jesus will accompany the Imam Mahdi when he reappears in a future apocalypse to save the world.
And Talebzadeh said the TV version of his film will further explore the links between Jesus and the Mahdi whose return Ahmadinejad has said his government, which came to power in 2005, is working to hasten."
I'd love any shia's reading this to tell me the difference between the shia mahdi and the sunni mahdi (I know this is not a PC to say it, but... whatever).
Original link here http://news.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=350858
Tuesday Jan 15 15:31 AEDT
The thing about most art is that it almost always has an agenda behind it.
"A director who shares the ideas of Iran's hardline president has produced what he says is the first film giving an Islamic view of Jesus Christ, in a bid to show "common ground" between Muslims and Christians.
Nader Talebzadeh sees his movie, Jesus, the Spirit of God, as an Islamic answer to Western productions like Mel Gibson's 2004 blockbuster The Passion of the Christ, which he praised as admirable but quite simply "wrong"."
"Talebzadeh insists it aims to bridge differences between Christianity and Islam, despite the stark divergence from Christian doctrine about Christ's final hours on earth.
'It is fascinating for Christians to know that Islam gives such devotion to and has so much knowledge about Jesus," Talebzadeh said.' "
This is interesting however.
"The director is also keen to emphasise the links between Jesus and one of the most important figures in Shiite Islam, the Imam Mahdi, said to have disappeared 12 centuries ago but whose "return" to earth has been a key tenet of the Ahmadinejad presidency."
"Shiite Muslims, the majority in Iran, believe Jesus will accompany the Imam Mahdi when he reappears in a future apocalypse to save the world.
And Talebzadeh said the TV version of his film will further explore the links between Jesus and the Mahdi whose return Ahmadinejad has said his government, which came to power in 2005, is working to hasten."
I'd love any shia's reading this to tell me the difference between the shia mahdi and the sunni mahdi (I know this is not a PC to say it, but... whatever).
Original link here http://news.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=350858
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The emirates is sinking.
What happens when a desert city with no preparation for heavy rains, gets heavy rains ?
it sinks, like a USS liberty, like a mafia boss gone snitch, like what would happen if the polar ice caps melted.
These are the streets 2 days ago
Always building by *iraqiguy on deviantART
These are the streets today, after 48 hours of rain.
Ajman winter by *iraqiguy on deviantART
nice, huh ? a half hour trip takes about 2 hours. So to drop someone off and then pick them up again, can you do the math ?
yes, 8 hours of driving today.
In the words of Borat, "NICE!"
it sinks, like a USS liberty, like a mafia boss gone snitch, like what would happen if the polar ice caps melted.
These are the streets 2 days ago
Always building by *iraqiguy on deviantART
These are the streets today, after 48 hours of rain.
Ajman winter by *iraqiguy on deviantART
nice, huh ? a half hour trip takes about 2 hours. So to drop someone off and then pick them up again, can you do the math ?
yes, 8 hours of driving today.
In the words of Borat, "NICE!"
Monday, January 14, 2008
And now for some poetry
Abbas Chechan is a famous iraqi poet, since I know f%#k all about iraqi poetry, that's all I can tell you about him, plus the fact that his poems (told in coloquial iraqi) are amazing, insightfull, funny, sad, and just a pleasure to listen to.
So, here is a translation for one of his poems.
I am Iraqi, from Amsterdam, I lived there for years and became dutch
I love people, all people, be they white, black, or indian
If I'm hungry or full, I'm the same way, calm and unmoved
I've tried to be good my whole life, and I've never had hate for people
I've a problem that though that touches my inner being, which never leaves my eyes dry
When I head the children of iraq are starving, I melt and my heart breaks
And when I hear a wounded man in iraq is lacking medicine, yelling out to "help me"
My distress my body shuts down from head to toe
oh my opresses people, do not blame me
For a body dead as mine is, can not help you or itself
_____________
This is an extremely rough translations, and unfortunately some part of the meaning of the poem is lost in 1- translations 2- Some old words I don't know, hopefull nawar will check out my blog and tell me if I've made any mistakes.
I'm still new to embedding youtube videos here, so if you can't see anything, go here
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1Jpv1PYcRs&feature=related
So, here is a translation for one of his poems.
I am Iraqi, from Amsterdam, I lived there for years and became dutch
I love people, all people, be they white, black, or indian
If I'm hungry or full, I'm the same way, calm and unmoved
I've tried to be good my whole life, and I've never had hate for people
I've a problem that though that touches my inner being, which never leaves my eyes dry
When I head the children of iraq are starving, I melt and my heart breaks
And when I hear a wounded man in iraq is lacking medicine, yelling out to "help me"
My distress my body shuts down from head to toe
oh my opresses people, do not blame me
For a body dead as mine is, can not help you or itself
_____________
This is an extremely rough translations, and unfortunately some part of the meaning of the poem is lost in 1- translations 2- Some old words I don't know, hopefull nawar will check out my blog and tell me if I've made any mistakes.
I'm still new to embedding youtube videos here, so if you can't see anything, go here
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1Jpv1PYcRs&feature=related
Bushism
A forward text message that's currently making the rounds in the UAE.
"Happy Bush day to you and your family
May Allah bring Bush to us every week
Long live Bush"
I guess people here aren't all that sad about a day off every once in a while.
"Happy Bush day to you and your family
May Allah bring Bush to us every week
Long live Bush"
I guess people here aren't all that sad about a day off every once in a while.
I googled my name today
Man, I'm blown away by the websites and publications in which I found my name. Some were stupid sites like bebo and freindster etc... but one mad find was my name, info about me, and MY WORK in a british islamic photography magazine. I tell you, reading about myself in the third person was crazy, my voice became very hight pitched and my corneas widended just a little bit.
Other stuff was just my "media presence" as -ex- media liaizon for FAMSY (www.famsy.com) which is cool too I guess.
This is funny in a way, I don't know why I haven't googled myself untill today, or maybe I did and this stuff hadn't surfaced yet. but now people can research me and I'd be like, this guy you can google and find stuff about. NICE (in a borat voice)
I think I'm updating this blog too often.
Other stuff was just my "media presence" as -ex- media liaizon for FAMSY (www.famsy.com) which is cool too I guess.
This is funny in a way, I don't know why I haven't googled myself untill today, or maybe I did and this stuff hadn't surfaced yet. but now people can research me and I'd be like, this guy you can google and find stuff about. NICE (in a borat voice)
I think I'm updating this blog too often.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Dubai's closed down for the day
It feels like Bush is following me where ever I go.
I came to Sydney from Melbourne, and he comes down to Sydney for the APEC forum, closing down THE WHOLE CITY, these were interesting times, 400 uni and high school students rallying against Bush are surrounded by some 500 police in full riot gear. Fun times, fun times...
Now I'm in the UAE, Bush comes again to tell the arabs what's good for'em. Closing down Dubai for the day as well, causing great inconvenience to people who work and have shit to do in the city, including me. So where does that leave me ? in bed updating my blog. Watching the movie "days of glory" which by the way is an amazing movie.
The difference between the effects of the visit on Sydney and Dubai is quite clear and unfortunate.
In Sydney, there was inevatibly going to be alot of security procedures to protect the most hated man on the planet (Bush), but the government actually made sure that closing down the city and spending $250Million on security had a minimum on the populace. They declared a public holiday a week in advanced and apologised and got a bloody battering by the media.
In Dubai. The roads were closed. a day before Bush's visit, it was declared in a round about way that the next day that main streets in the CBD would be closed off and that goverment offices were closed. this two day confusion caused hours more wasted time in bumper to bumper traffic throughout the day. which could have been avoided had city commuters known about the road closures and security procedures before hand.
They're still learning though, still getting used to the ropes. so I'm not so critical.
Next year I wanna visit my famiy in Sydney again, I hope I won't find myself sitting next to Bush in the plane, he seems to have it for me. (haha ! joke!)
I came to Sydney from Melbourne, and he comes down to Sydney for the APEC forum, closing down THE WHOLE CITY, these were interesting times, 400 uni and high school students rallying against Bush are surrounded by some 500 police in full riot gear. Fun times, fun times...
Now I'm in the UAE, Bush comes again to tell the arabs what's good for'em. Closing down Dubai for the day as well, causing great inconvenience to people who work and have shit to do in the city, including me. So where does that leave me ? in bed updating my blog. Watching the movie "days of glory" which by the way is an amazing movie.
The difference between the effects of the visit on Sydney and Dubai is quite clear and unfortunate.
In Sydney, there was inevatibly going to be alot of security procedures to protect the most hated man on the planet (Bush), but the government actually made sure that closing down the city and spending $250Million on security had a minimum on the populace. They declared a public holiday a week in advanced and apologised and got a bloody battering by the media.
In Dubai. The roads were closed. a day before Bush's visit, it was declared in a round about way that the next day that main streets in the CBD would be closed off and that goverment offices were closed. this two day confusion caused hours more wasted time in bumper to bumper traffic throughout the day. which could have been avoided had city commuters known about the road closures and security procedures before hand.
They're still learning though, still getting used to the ropes. so I'm not so critical.
Next year I wanna visit my famiy in Sydney again, I hope I won't find myself sitting next to Bush in the plane, he seems to have it for me. (haha ! joke!)
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Thinking outside the box
Recently I recieved an email from a dear friend in Melbourne, I know this guy from uni, he's top notch. I like him because he doesn't twist and turn and play mind games etc... if he thinks something, he says it, if he doesn't like something about me, he tells me straight away. Not in a mean way mind you, but in a brotherly way. (you don't know my brother).
Anyways, so in his email he was asking me about the upcoming famsy camp (http://www.famsy.com/famsy/modules/news/article.php?storyid=131) coming up end of January. He was discussing with his friends about whether to go or not, and for some reason they were convinced, and they had him convinced that I was either a- Salafi, or b- modern salafi and that this camp will ... I don't know what they're expect from a supposed modern salafi camp.
I will take a minute here to assert that I am not salafi, OR modern salafi, I guess if I was gonna put my ass in a box, I would call myself a hanafi coz I was born one.
Also, FAMSY is not a salafi organisation, it's a student organisation that aligns itself to no theology other than following the Quran and the sunnah. We work and accept all organisations and schools of thought within the sunni muslim community in Australia and overseas, and we have done so in all our activities.
What saddens me, what pisses me off, what Diarrhea's me, is that many muslims in melbourne (I say Melbourne because I felt it alot in Melbourne) feel they have to put people in a box, they are either salafi, tablighi, sufi, or neo this, or pseudo that. it kills me.
I've always tried to define myself as being Muslim only because there already so many divisions in the Muslim community, I didn't want to contribute to it. so I had friends and connections with all groups and leaders and shaikhs, and I honestly always tried to respect them all, and I thought it worked, but ofcourse I've also always tried not to align myself to one group specifically. That's why I loved FAMSY because thier powerbase is not a school of thought or a ethnicity, but students and youth.
so yes, if you think I'm salafi, I'm not, and i'm not dissing the salaf, they're a wonderful crowd. One of the most beautifull and beloved brothers to me -Eisa- is from iisca and we get along pretty well... which reminds me I have to note him a salams on facebook.
Anyways, so in his email he was asking me about the upcoming famsy camp (http://www.famsy.com/famsy/modules/news/article.php?storyid=131) coming up end of January. He was discussing with his friends about whether to go or not, and for some reason they were convinced, and they had him convinced that I was either a- Salafi, or b- modern salafi and that this camp will ... I don't know what they're expect from a supposed modern salafi camp.
I will take a minute here to assert that I am not salafi, OR modern salafi, I guess if I was gonna put my ass in a box, I would call myself a hanafi coz I was born one.
Also, FAMSY is not a salafi organisation, it's a student organisation that aligns itself to no theology other than following the Quran and the sunnah. We work and accept all organisations and schools of thought within the sunni muslim community in Australia and overseas, and we have done so in all our activities.
What saddens me, what pisses me off, what Diarrhea's me, is that many muslims in melbourne (I say Melbourne because I felt it alot in Melbourne) feel they have to put people in a box, they are either salafi, tablighi, sufi, or neo this, or pseudo that. it kills me.
I've always tried to define myself as being Muslim only because there already so many divisions in the Muslim community, I didn't want to contribute to it. so I had friends and connections with all groups and leaders and shaikhs, and I honestly always tried to respect them all, and I thought it worked, but ofcourse I've also always tried not to align myself to one group specifically. That's why I loved FAMSY because thier powerbase is not a school of thought or a ethnicity, but students and youth.
so yes, if you think I'm salafi, I'm not, and i'm not dissing the salaf, they're a wonderful crowd. One of the most beautifull and beloved brothers to me -Eisa- is from iisca and we get along pretty well... which reminds me I have to note him a salams on facebook.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
The return of Rima
Ther is an old iraqi proverb that goes, رجعت ريمة الى عادتها القديملة, which means, Rima is back to her old tricks. its uses are obvious, though I'm unclear of the origin of this proverb.
Anyways, my old habit is late sleep and late wake up times. Something I've always had and I've always hated. Right now it's 11:20pm. I'm listening to stearing ABC newsradio, I love those guys, and the Australian accent is soothing to my ear. It rained today in the early morning and just a few minutes ago. This is worth mention because Ajman and the general emirates weather is desert weather, rain occurs 4 or 5 times a year, and when it happens, it's barakah. or blessing.
I've not been updating my blog, too many things were happening and I needed to have a roughly clear mind for writing. At somepoint though I decided I can't wait for that for ever, so I'm writing again. You never know, I may be be able to continue my short story filim.
Anyways, my old habit is late sleep and late wake up times. Something I've always had and I've always hated. Right now it's 11:20pm. I'm listening to stearing ABC newsradio, I love those guys, and the Australian accent is soothing to my ear. It rained today in the early morning and just a few minutes ago. This is worth mention because Ajman and the general emirates weather is desert weather, rain occurs 4 or 5 times a year, and when it happens, it's barakah. or blessing.
I've not been updating my blog, too many things were happening and I needed to have a roughly clear mind for writing. At somepoint though I decided I can't wait for that for ever, so I'm writing again. You never know, I may be be able to continue my short story filim.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
running my mind off
I was listening to the Quran the other day and it made me think, I tune out usually when I listen to the Quran on mp3, so usually I remember the tone and pick up a few key words, but generally the message is lost on me, it's alot more effective when I read the Quran or when I listen to the slower recitations. I and just realised why, which is to say I've got theory about why I can't take it Quran at normal listening speed.
It's because I can't REALLY listen to the Quran when it's being recited by the speed of say, Afasy, because for us arab speakers, the quran, with its divinity and purpose and non existant expiry date, is very complex, so complex infact that it's not like a normal book or an interview with someone famous, it's the book of life, written by Allah swt so beautifully for us to ponder.
If you've tuned out like I do sometimes, you need only to remember the word ponder. I listen to Surat Yousef on an mp3 and it lasts what, 20 minutes ? but how long would it take to study the tafseer of surat yousef ? the begining Alef Laam Meem can take a while to read and understand.
So when I'm listening to is, one ayah takes my mind away, I think about it, I try to make i3rab to it, I think about the words and thier meanings and the purpose of using them here and not other words, about the muslims when they first heard it etc... by the time I'm back to listening, the reciter is 5 to 15 ayahs away. and that's when I'm actually listening to the recitation.
I'm not making a fat man here (I mean fatwa), but I really think that you cannot really listen to an mp3 quran unless it was slowely recited. Or if you've already memorized and studied that surah or ayah.
peace
It's because I can't REALLY listen to the Quran when it's being recited by the speed of say, Afasy, because for us arab speakers, the quran, with its divinity and purpose and non existant expiry date, is very complex, so complex infact that it's not like a normal book or an interview with someone famous, it's the book of life, written by Allah swt so beautifully for us to ponder.
If you've tuned out like I do sometimes, you need only to remember the word ponder. I listen to Surat Yousef on an mp3 and it lasts what, 20 minutes ? but how long would it take to study the tafseer of surat yousef ? the begining Alef Laam Meem can take a while to read and understand.
So when I'm listening to is, one ayah takes my mind away, I think about it, I try to make i3rab to it, I think about the words and thier meanings and the purpose of using them here and not other words, about the muslims when they first heard it etc... by the time I'm back to listening, the reciter is 5 to 15 ayahs away. and that's when I'm actually listening to the recitation.
I'm not making a fat man here (I mean fatwa), but I really think that you cannot really listen to an mp3 quran unless it was slowely recited. Or if you've already memorized and studied that surah or ayah.
peace
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Stories from my grand dad 3
In the iran war, my relationship was with the ministry of defense, because the dams were strategicly important, if an Iranian fighter jet shoots the dam, the whole town would go under water,.
I went to Mosul, we had two damns, one in the north of mosul, and one in suliemania, these didn't have enough military defense, so I went to kirkuk to the staff general Marshal to tell him about the lack of defense.
When I arrived they were having lunch, a whole heap of about 30 generals sitting at a huge table. The general marshal sitting at the head of the table. A muslawi.
I saluted, he called for me, ifathaal hooni (in maslawi dialect "have a seat"), I said I'm not military sir, he said you're better than military, come sit next to me,
I shook his hand, May Allah help you and bless you,
I told him the story. He told His assistant general to meet with him after lunch for amore official meeting because this was important.
Later on because I was speaking maslawi, he asked me where are you from ? I said I'm originally from Baghdad city, but Ive lived in mosul for 12 years and I'm taba3ia mosul.
He stood up and yelled "ishnoo ishqilit ? taba3yia irania ?" (what did you say ? you're iranian by ethnicity?) I said "Ya saidi I said taba3ia mosul, like you !" He sat down and was laughing. I didn't understand.
The other generals were asking me, what did you tell him ? I said taba3ia mosul, they said that;s what we heard.
I told him the whole story of my taba3ia again.
Who did you marry in Mosul ? He said who did you marry in Mosul maybe I know the family.
I told him "abdulhakeem amin" He was like "oh that guy was my commander when I was lieutenant.
the funny bit here is that this leutenant thought my grand dad was taba3ia iran, which would have been dangerous since the war at the time was with iran.
I went to Mosul, we had two damns, one in the north of mosul, and one in suliemania, these didn't have enough military defense, so I went to kirkuk to the staff general Marshal to tell him about the lack of defense.
When I arrived they were having lunch, a whole heap of about 30 generals sitting at a huge table. The general marshal sitting at the head of the table. A muslawi.
I saluted, he called for me, ifathaal hooni (in maslawi dialect "have a seat"), I said I'm not military sir, he said you're better than military, come sit next to me,
I shook his hand, May Allah help you and bless you,
I told him the story. He told His assistant general to meet with him after lunch for amore official meeting because this was important.
Later on because I was speaking maslawi, he asked me where are you from ? I said I'm originally from Baghdad city, but Ive lived in mosul for 12 years and I'm taba3ia mosul.
He stood up and yelled "ishnoo ishqilit ? taba3yia irania ?" (what did you say ? you're iranian by ethnicity?) I said "Ya saidi I said taba3ia mosul, like you !" He sat down and was laughing. I didn't understand.
The other generals were asking me, what did you tell him ? I said taba3ia mosul, they said that;s what we heard.
I told him the whole story of my taba3ia again.
Who did you marry in Mosul ? He said who did you marry in Mosul maybe I know the family.
I told him "abdulhakeem amin" He was like "oh that guy was my commander when I was lieutenant.
the funny bit here is that this leutenant thought my grand dad was taba3ia iran, which would have been dangerous since the war at the time was with iran.
Stories from my grand dad 2
I had a government vehicle, if the kurds at the time see a government vehicle they tend to steal it, So I used to muddy the liscnece plates of the car and used to wear a kurdish turban to look Kurdish, I also speak Kurdish coz I stayed there for along time for the dam building .
One time I was returning from suliemania to kirkuk to go back to Baghdad. Usually in the head of the city there would be a police station to monitor the entry and exit in and out of the city.
That day is was raining heavily, when I reached the police station, I tooted my car, no body answered, I dind't want to go out in the rain, so I drove on.
10 minutes later, a police car came chasing me, the guy in the car was yelling "RAUSTA RAUSTA" stop in Kurdish.
He asked why didn't you stop ? no one was there ! no you have to go back
So I went back, a seargant came out, took me inside, I gave him my Identification, he took it and put it away, SIT DOWN ! you're arrested.
I said thank you for arresting, but I need the phone, because I'll be late to an appointment with the general commander of the military. Can I call ?
Ok sure
So I called , the assistant of the commander answered, "come in where are you ? we're waiting for you " I said I wasn't close yet, because the searagnt took my identification and arrested me
He said "YAAKUL KHARA" give him the phone. (means HE CAN EAT SHIT!)
The seargant took the phone, suddenly he stood up to attention to the phone "YES SIR, OK SIR, YES SIR"
The assistant spoke to me again, come down now, bring the seargant with you.
The sargant gave me the card, and was so scared now he waslike a mouse, there were soldiers in the entrance of kirkuk barracks, they stopped us and cuffed the seargant and took him inside, by that time he was almost ready to pee his pants.
I came inside I saw the commander, "who is this idiot who did this to you?"
I said "Sir I beg of you, I don’t' want this guy to die from a heart attack, let him off"
So he called up his people "feed him and let him go"
The seargant got the fright of his life just now, so from then on he never got in my way again, other times I'd come down to them I'd give them the card, they'd so get outta here we know who you are, what would you like ? tea ? lunch ?
This happened to me a lot, but I never worried about it because I had in my pocket a letter from the minister of defense, and I wasn't doin anything wrong.
One time I was returning from suliemania to kirkuk to go back to Baghdad. Usually in the head of the city there would be a police station to monitor the entry and exit in and out of the city.
That day is was raining heavily, when I reached the police station, I tooted my car, no body answered, I dind't want to go out in the rain, so I drove on.
10 minutes later, a police car came chasing me, the guy in the car was yelling "RAUSTA RAUSTA" stop in Kurdish.
He asked why didn't you stop ? no one was there ! no you have to go back
So I went back, a seargant came out, took me inside, I gave him my Identification, he took it and put it away, SIT DOWN ! you're arrested.
I said thank you for arresting, but I need the phone, because I'll be late to an appointment with the general commander of the military. Can I call ?
Ok sure
So I called , the assistant of the commander answered, "come in where are you ? we're waiting for you " I said I wasn't close yet, because the searagnt took my identification and arrested me
He said "YAAKUL KHARA" give him the phone. (means HE CAN EAT SHIT!)
The seargant took the phone, suddenly he stood up to attention to the phone "YES SIR, OK SIR, YES SIR"
The assistant spoke to me again, come down now, bring the seargant with you.
The sargant gave me the card, and was so scared now he waslike a mouse, there were soldiers in the entrance of kirkuk barracks, they stopped us and cuffed the seargant and took him inside, by that time he was almost ready to pee his pants.
I came inside I saw the commander, "who is this idiot who did this to you?"
I said "Sir I beg of you, I don’t' want this guy to die from a heart attack, let him off"
So he called up his people "feed him and let him go"
The seargant got the fright of his life just now, so from then on he never got in my way again, other times I'd come down to them I'd give them the card, they'd so get outta here we know who you are, what would you like ? tea ? lunch ?
This happened to me a lot, but I never worried about it because I had in my pocket a letter from the minister of defense, and I wasn't doin anything wrong.
Stories from my grand dad
My grandfather is 80something years old now, and he's got all these old stories from when he was a dam engineer back in Iraq, they're very entertaining to listen to him say it, but also they're history, so at some point I started documenting them when he told them (he's got like a hundred stories he recycles). This is one those stories.
I hope you can understand it, I basically wrote down exactly what he said (with instant translation)
____________________
The mosul damn, I was the manager for the project. Usually large projects like this need a base marble on which is written the name of the project and the date . the price we got for the stone was 120 dinar. For one stone !
We went to the guy who sold us the stone,
salams, did you quote us the price ?
Yep
120 dinar is a lot, why so much ? ok let's count
Hillania (I don't know what this means)
It worked out to be 35 dinar, + 25 dinar profits, why 120 ? (this story is from the 1970s, when the iraqi dinar was equal to 3 US dollars)
He turned to the purchasing committee who had come with me, asking "why did you bring this guy with you ? I was hoping the guy from Baghdad would come down so I can charge him lots!" The purchasing committee went nuts and trying to shut this guy up "This IS the Baghdad guy !"
He; like "No, this guy speaks likes us !"
So I said "I' came from Baghdad but I'm taba3ia mosul" (taba3ia means have origins from that place or ethnicity)
He said what ?
I said "I came to mosul when I was 6, all my education was in mosul, my university was a mosul scholarship. I married from mosul"
He said "Well then you're one of us !"
So I said "Ok then give it to me for 40 dinar, you have a 20 dinar profit"
He's like , ok 50 dinar, fine.
They had sent the director of purchasing and administration to suprvise me, from the baath party official. He asked me what I'd done.
So I called up one of the purchasing committee members, his name was francis, I asked him "what do you think should I tell him the price or give him the whole story ? Francis said, tell him the whole story it was a good thingh you did.
When I returned to Baghdad, the official dude told the minitester, the minister was my friend, I knew him from before. He sent for me.,
At his office, he took me to the board meeting room, I told him the whole story and he was laughing , He then sent me a letter of thanking and appreciation, with a 100 dinar bestowment.
I hope you can understand it, I basically wrote down exactly what he said (with instant translation)
____________________
The mosul damn, I was the manager for the project. Usually large projects like this need a base marble on which is written the name of the project and the date . the price we got for the stone was 120 dinar. For one stone !
We went to the guy who sold us the stone,
salams, did you quote us the price ?
Yep
120 dinar is a lot, why so much ? ok let's count
Hillania (I don't know what this means)
It worked out to be 35 dinar, + 25 dinar profits, why 120 ? (this story is from the 1970s, when the iraqi dinar was equal to 3 US dollars)
He turned to the purchasing committee who had come with me, asking "why did you bring this guy with you ? I was hoping the guy from Baghdad would come down so I can charge him lots!" The purchasing committee went nuts and trying to shut this guy up "This IS the Baghdad guy !"
He; like "No, this guy speaks likes us !"
So I said "I' came from Baghdad but I'm taba3ia mosul" (taba3ia means have origins from that place or ethnicity)
He said what ?
I said "I came to mosul when I was 6, all my education was in mosul, my university was a mosul scholarship. I married from mosul"
He said "Well then you're one of us !"
So I said "Ok then give it to me for 40 dinar, you have a 20 dinar profit"
He's like , ok 50 dinar, fine.
They had sent the director of purchasing and administration to suprvise me, from the baath party official. He asked me what I'd done.
So I called up one of the purchasing committee members, his name was francis, I asked him "what do you think should I tell him the price or give him the whole story ? Francis said, tell him the whole story it was a good thingh you did.
When I returned to Baghdad, the official dude told the minitester, the minister was my friend, I knew him from before. He sent for me.,
At his office, he took me to the board meeting room, I told him the whole story and he was laughing , He then sent me a letter of thanking and appreciation, with a 100 dinar bestowment.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Filim: part three
I woke up feeling the car coming to a stop; I lift my head from the makeshift front seat bed. After 12 hours of driving, my body had gotten used to the bumps and shakes accompanied with driving on the Iraqi interstate freeway, or whatever they call it down here.
"Where are we?", Jabbar, my driver, doesn't seem the least bit perturbed, he did however look a bit nervous from the way his eyes kept darting around, he pointed "That way is Falluja, you go I cannot take you further"
Squinting my eyes I could see a city about half an hour's walk. Although the term city could hardly be used for these rows of mud brick houses and scores of minarets standing tall amongst the ruined city, it looked like a medieval township. "Jabs mate, you've come this is far! Can't you take me closer?"
"No Sam this very dangerous for me, these Dlaimia will kill me" Apparently those 'Dlaimia' didn't like my driver so much" It'll be fine bro just take me a bit closer!" My driver looks at me with unease "Sam my friend, Iraq is a big country with a lot of beoble" "a lot of beoble fighting all the time all the beoble" Wow. I was surprised things here were so bad this guy couldn't come within half an hour of cities. I'm so glad I didn't bring any large suitcases outside the car I hugged Jabbar and thanked him, I handed him the money but he didn't accept it. "Sam ya akhi, you will need this money more than me" He looked at me in sadness, "Sam you are a good boy, be careful there a lot of bad beoble here, do not die", and with that, he drove away. The half hour walk to Falluja was exactly as disgusting as I thought it would be, the ankle deep mud tried its hardest to halt my march on the city. The sun was giving me all it had-even thought it was almost 4pm; I was glad then for the heat wave Melbourne was experiencing before I left, otherwise I would not have been standing now, battling this lake of mud.
Finally I made it to some houses, all laid out in neat rows which had now deviated and went every which way. I could make out people now, five little kids running around what looked to be a soccer ball but was not, screaming their lungs out at each other and the ball. They were all wearing the same long dusty outfits, it was very impressive how they could maneuver a ball or even run with a dress that reaches to their feet, but there they were doing it! Women dressed in large shawls covering their hair, almost hovering it seems because their clothes covered their feet. There was an old man walking very slowly with an ancient stick, had he been in Australia I would have thought he was taking a nice stroll down his street, it was a very quiet moment then and I was about to take out my camera and filming but thought the better of it. Just then, a loud voice sounded in the horizon, first it was that single strong crisp voice that called and stretched for a long while before a symphony of voices all alone but together non the less joined in this call, these calls, strong yet calming, powerful and beautiful, with their long melodic tones and sad rhythms, overwhelmed me again and again, washing over me like deliciously hot water in winter time, and I remained in place determined to feel every decibel of sound, the hair on my body stood in anticipation and relish for this sound, for that minute I wanted nothing more than to be in that place, at that time, and listening to that call.
Thus, it came to and ends, and opening my eyes after what felt like the best shiatsu massage ever, before me was a city transformed. The kids playing soccer had tripled to about 12 and were all leaving the dirt square soccer field, I could easily make out dozens of people all leaving their homes, all walking in the same general direction.
So I started walking along, initially nobody noticed me, but an aussie with a Stussy backpack and ozi rags can only blend in for so long in a city like Falluja, the little kids were pointing at me, the women eyed me from the corner of their eyes and spoke feverently to each other, some men were looking directly at me with a mixture of surprise and amusement.
We finally reached our destination, a tall minaret with an impressively built mud brick mosque, it had the same color tone as the houses and other buildings here but it was a lot higher which made it stand out.
I walked in, half way through the flood of shoes on the floor I realized that I should probably take off my shoes as well, I stood there for a second admiring my white adidas shoes amongst the sandals and slippers, praying no one steals them I walked in, the mosque inside was a lot cleaner than I gave it credit for, the carpets were bright red, the walls were a subtle white creamy color, everyone in the mosque was dressed in white or gray. I sat in the back and waited to see what would happen. People were walking in and making what seemed to be random prayers, one of the men noticed me sitting and walked over to me "Alsalamu alaikum"
"Hi" I answered, feeling sheepish; I'm supposed to say something else
"You are Amereekany?"
"No, I'm Australian, I'm here to make a documentary" then remembering the right term "Making a film about Falluja"
"Filim?" He looks at me for a second "where you are living?"
Realizing that I had nowhere to stay "Nowhere for now, are there hotels around here?"
"This is Falluja, not Seedny, but I will find you a blasé" I watched him walking over to the front side of the mosque and started speaking to a man also dressed in a long dark grey dress, but who also sported a beard and a funky red top. They looked at me and spoke some more.
The man came back to me and offered me a smile and his hand "My name is Abu Ali, you will stay with me"
I shook his hand and took his smile "Pleased to meet you Abu Ali, my name is Sami"
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Filim: part two
I got off the airplane and ran to the closest toilet, which I progressed to furnish with my breakfast from this morning. This was probably the most turbuent flight I've ever been on, and it wasn't bad weather either.
Walking out of the toilet I still felt shaky and sick, which was obvious because I could hear the chuckles of the other passengers around me in this broken down building I could only guess is the airport lounge. The green (maybe 20 years ago they were green)plastic seats were moldy and broken, the walls were splattered with bulet holes and oddly enough what looked like coffee stains.
"the pilot flies like this to avoid the rebel zones". I turn around following the deep cracked accented voice, an over tanned middle-aged over-weight man sits with hands clasped behind his head.
His classic monsterous mustache tells me he's a local, his taxi driver clothes eminate stench and dust, probably from hours of driving back and fro to the airport.
"Well why doesn't he fly high ?"
"The Americans will think he's flying a syrian plane and shoot him down". I have to get used to this accent if I'm going to stay in Iraq for the next few months, So they pronouce it Amreecan, Soorian etc... well at least i can make out the words.
"They don't use radio ?"
"The Amreecans are too excited shooters, they don't use radio alot", he probably meant trigger happy, so I'll have to stick with the western clothing to stay safe.
"I'm trying to go to baghdad, will you take me ?" He looks me up and down for maybe the forth time, "baghdad is far away, it will cost you hundred amreecan doollars", Whoa ! that's expensive, I try to keep a straight face while counting my money in my head, I thought it was gonna be cheap living here, I spent half the money on the trip down here and the camera.
Mr Taxi driver laughs and calls me over "I'm joaking ya silly english, 20 amreecan dollars is enough", he laughs more when he sees the look of relief on my face. He holds his hands out to me "My name is AbdulGabbar"
I shake his dry sandpapered hand "My name is Sam, I'm Australian, I'm making a film here"
" A filim ? You will find lots of action here ya Sam, Welcome to Iraq"
To be continued
Walking out of the toilet I still felt shaky and sick, which was obvious because I could hear the chuckles of the other passengers around me in this broken down building I could only guess is the airport lounge. The green (maybe 20 years ago they were green)plastic seats were moldy and broken, the walls were splattered with bulet holes and oddly enough what looked like coffee stains.
"the pilot flies like this to avoid the rebel zones". I turn around following the deep cracked accented voice, an over tanned middle-aged over-weight man sits with hands clasped behind his head.
His classic monsterous mustache tells me he's a local, his taxi driver clothes eminate stench and dust, probably from hours of driving back and fro to the airport.
"Well why doesn't he fly high ?"
"The Americans will think he's flying a syrian plane and shoot him down". I have to get used to this accent if I'm going to stay in Iraq for the next few months, So they pronouce it Amreecan, Soorian etc... well at least i can make out the words.
"They don't use radio ?"
"The Amreecans are too excited shooters, they don't use radio alot", he probably meant trigger happy, so I'll have to stick with the western clothing to stay safe.
"I'm trying to go to baghdad, will you take me ?" He looks me up and down for maybe the forth time, "baghdad is far away, it will cost you hundred amreecan doollars", Whoa ! that's expensive, I try to keep a straight face while counting my money in my head, I thought it was gonna be cheap living here, I spent half the money on the trip down here and the camera.
Mr Taxi driver laughs and calls me over "I'm joaking ya silly english, 20 amreecan dollars is enough", he laughs more when he sees the look of relief on my face. He holds his hands out to me "My name is AbdulGabbar"
I shake his dry sandpapered hand "My name is Sam, I'm Australian, I'm making a film here"
" A filim ? You will find lots of action here ya Sam, Welcome to Iraq"
To be continued
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