Prolific Immigrant

Upwards of 160,000 people die annually.
War
Famine
Poverty
Disease
Global Warming
…and people can barely get off their lazy asses to demonstrate or make a phone call to a politician or write an email or pick up a newspaper to be informed…
…and yet…and yet…and yet…they line the fucking streets for him within an instant.

Get. Some. Perspective.

Hi all – am not off radio silence as of yet, but must share following info. (By the way, rabble article on #iranelection goes live tomorrow morning at 9 am est.)

As has been mentioned previously, Baby Jane moved to Halifax a wee while back. She has a new friend (yay!) named Jasmine, and from what Janey tells me of her, she is very nice, talented and is keeping sweet Baby Jane from feeling lonely in her new digs. (Thank you, Jasmine, she of the flowery name.)

What follows is an email from Janey, for your attention, please. Would greatly appreciate if you would share with all you know.
 
Dear Maha/Gorgeous/Raven/Meesho/Kove:
Remember I was telling you about my new friend Jasmine? I am hoping you can help her and I with a project by posting this on your wonderful blog so all your wonderful blog friends can help.
 
Jasmine has crone’s disease and has dealt with it all her life. Last year, she made a film called Glamour Guts, a funny short about how to stay fabulous with bowel disease – something lots of people struggle/live with, but don’t discuss. The film has been selected as one of three finalists for the CBC Short Film Face Off contest. If she wins, the prize will help her make her next film (a tragicomedy about grief).

The winner of the contest is determined by (40 hours only!) online voting.
 
Please join me in supporting Jasmine by:

First – watching it: Glamour Guts.

Next – between 11pm on SATURDAY JUNE 27 and 6pm on MONDAY JUNE 29 (Atlantic Standard TIme) visit: vote for GLAMOUR GUTS (if it pleases you. -maha).
 
Each person can vote up to 5 times (if you clear your cookies –you might be able to vote more than that)

Please pass on to your friends, friends of friends, family, friends of family, acquaintances, friends of acquaintances, acquaintances of acquaintances (who am I missing? family of friends of acquaintances) that you think would appreciate the movie. Family, friends of family, acquaintances etc. living abroad? No problem, they can vote too.
 
Kove yoy,
Baby J.

Comments closed. Radio silence still on. Check rabble tomorrow, please…x

Then you must please set aside 10 minutes and read this analysis by John J Mearsheimer, titled Saving Israel from Itself.

Comments closed.

Read. Pay attention. Act.

I am responsible.
You are responsible.

More pictures — many more — of US soldiers torturing human beings.

Obama’s decided not to allow publication of the images, stating that the decision was because he felt that their release would endanger American troops.

Fail.

You know what endangers US troops, President Obama? The fact that they’re acting like assholes in the first place — the fact that they’re torturing human beings. Full fucking stop.

It’s not the pictures.
It’s the actions.
Fail @ one million.

I am too tired to write something more coherent on this for rabble, so this will have to do. It’s from the bberry so forgive spelling errors and grammatical tool-edness.

Comments closed.

Based on my recent blog entry titled Not Lives of Girls and Women, I was asked to write about apathy. It’s a little more philosophical than most rabble pieces, so I do hope you’ll enjoy it!

Am off to Austin for the week,and completely off-line. Enjoy the next few days, please!

Whose flesh are you touching and why? Whose flesh are you recoiling from and why? Whose flesh are you burning and why?”
- Daniel Berrigan

So crisp and clear with challenge.

(I am in love with this man, and I don’t mind that he’s over 90 years of age.)

My latest article has just gone live at rabble.ca

Read the entire article, if the following interests you:
The question we must ask ourselves is simple: if NECEA is meant to address natural disasters, then why is the scope of the Act so vague, large and open-ended? The flipside of which is: if NECEA is only meant to address natural disasters, they why isn’t NECEA crystal clear on this point?

Instead, we find that the purpose of these military-based emergency centres may be used to “meet other appropriate needs, as determined by the Secretary of Homeland Security.” It is when we attempt to understand the pocket of obscurity created by NECEA’s vagueness, and while factoring in the readying of the U.S. military’s response to the anticipated civil unrest (due to the economic war being waged on all but the ‘haves’), that the potentially insidious nature of the centres becomes evident.

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This spotlights one of the reasons why I think our world is going to sh*t. (P.S. While you’re sl*tting up your babies, your government is r*ping you and other countries.)

I don’t have the words to express anything…but…maybe that if she enjoyed herself so much, they should have left her there.

Happy “recreating”, Dumba**.

I am not of the belief that there can ever be such a thing as a ‘moral army’. I feel nothing but sorrow for the State of Israel – because although the death toll they amass against the Palestinians continues to rise, they’re going to need national therapy to get over the idea that’s pushed by their political and religious perverts: that they are forever victims, threatened by all, only safe in the State of Israel.

Forget that grouping all individuals following the Jewish faith in to one small area of the world is really nothing short of drawing a bull’s-eye on them.

Many of my dearest friends, Jewish, are fighting this on a personal level, refusing to be victims, refusing to inherit this legacy, refusing to make the State of Israel the only place they can feel safe and protected. It is a daily struggle for them, a personal battle against their families and their community and one I watch with only the greatest admiration and respect.

(Yes: I lump fundamentalist Muslims and fundamentalist Christians into the same category. Also any fundamentalist who tries to force the idea of reincarnation on me, anarchy on me, communism on me, confusing the lines of politics and theology, discourse and ideology, fear and power.)

“The soldiers’ testimonies also reportedly told of an unusually high intervention by military and non-military rabbis, who circulated pamphlets describing the war in religious terminology.

“All the articles had one clear message,” one soldier said. “We are the people of Israel, we arrived in the country almost by miracle, now we need to fight to uproot the gentiles who interfere with re-conquering the Holy Land.”

“Many soldiers’ feelings were that this was a war of religion,” he added.”

Read the complete article here.

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Please take a moment to read about this Campaign and support them in any way you can.

If the following appeals to you, then I encourage you to share this information, please:

“October 16, 2008 saw two coordinated actions against leading weapons factories in two different cities located in central Sweden. Equipped with hammers and bolt cutters, activists gained access to the manufacturing halls where they found and disarmed weapons used in the American-led war on Iraq and warfare material destined for India.”

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Please find my latest piece here at rabble.

And a little announcement, that I am very excited to make, as rabble is Canada’s no.1 progressive voice: rabble asked me to become a regular contributor, and I’ve accepted…hurrah! When you click on my name, you’ll now see that side photo and blurb.

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.1. All week, I have been thinking about the promise I made > to write a new entry < and I must admit that it’s weighed heavy on me, this promise. Oddly, it seems to have both placed pressure on me to think of something coherent and also, to paralyze my move to puzzle old words together in an effort to create something new. For this reason, I have decided to simply write. This is more a stream of consciousness, rather than an entry with one specific idea and purpose. But it is an entry and it has been promised and now here it is…

.2. Because so many of you seem to have found something which resonated when you read The Story that Hides, I will provide a small contextualization for this written bit.

I began writing that in November of 2007, a couple of weeks after I had my heart completely beaten to a pulp by someone, an occurrence that had never happened before and one by which my entire self had become displaced. That’s all anyone needs to know about that piece.

That and the fact that a slight variation of it will likely become the first chapter of a more complete story some day.

.3. I spent 10 days in Vancouver in October. It was lovely as Vancouver is a stunning city and the weather gorgeous.

The most incredible day spent there was the one during which I spent a few hours in Pigeon Park. This is the most notorious park in the City in terms of poverty.

I picked up 25 sandwiches, coffees and cookies from my favorite shop (Smart Mouth Cafe at 131 Water Street, no 117 – highly recommended next you are in VanCity) and took them, with the help of three employees across the way to the park.

There we handed them out to anyone who wanted and I spent some time speaking with the prostitutes and the junkies and peoples’ grandchildren and grandparents covered in lesions and cuts and bruises, scrapes and scraps of clothing not warm enough for even a summer’s day.

I left there a little broken and invigorated, a little sad and a lot confused. I wandered for a few hours in my own head considering that any individual making different choices or living different experiences could be in that park. None of us are immune and we must extend grace and love to all.

.4. Speaking of which, we were recently out to dinner and had a very heavy discussion about this particular idea of ‘judgment’.

Among the folks at dinner was someone vehemently opposed to judging the actions of others: “People who judge are assholes. Who the f*ck are they to judge me?” Interestingly enough, in their judgment of individuals judging others and opposition to said judgment, they had become complicit in the very thing they were opposing: judgment. (Tautology is the vice of Dr. Seuss, didn’t you know?)

I kept my mouth shut and didn’t point this out, choosing to instead name the shrimp in my Yum Mamuang and wrote in my head their journey from ocean to kitchen. It was called “Monkey, Pippy, Thomas and Famke Fall Into A Trap, Are Caught, Then Get Grilled”. Maybe I’ll share it some day…

But. I think since judgment is inevitable and a part of human nature, perhaps the key is to temper it with a sort of mercy. Attempt to understand the actions you’ve judged and do so in as gentle a manner as possible, remembering that people are not inherently bad, though we all tend to act in foolish and hurtful manners many times in our lives (whether it’s because we’re spoiled a**holes with a heavy sense of entitlement, or because we actually didn’t know we were being a**holes).

On this note, here we need to acknowledge the difference between understanding an action and justifying that same action. Also, that there are some things we simply can not stand for – now, extend this perspective to social justice and then make no difference between the shit and unacceptable behavior of one individual against an other individual (e.g. one man refusing to serve another because of the colour of his skin // one man abusing his wife) and collective behavior against any group (e.g. laws supporting segregation // women not being allowed to vote, own property, etc.).

There is great danger in us denying the direct link between the individual and the collective. (See below End Note.)

The moment we recognize and own the reality that each action we take must be a reflection of a social fabric wherein we look out and care for one another in an equal and respectful manner is a first step to doing away with the horrible atrocities we commit against one another, be it collectively or individually.

Don’t ever think that we, as individuals, can act without impunity, or that our actions are disassociated from our world view or the freedoms we fight for, the social justice me must uphold.

(I am guilty of falling short of this on many an occasion and I’ve behaved like a Grade-A a**hole, but I work hard to recognize my stupidity and then remedy it when I can and as immediately as possible. The above is as much a reminder to myself as it is a reminder to anyone reading it.)

End note: If you are of the belief that we – and only we – are responsible for ourselves and no one else is responsible for us, and that we can’t be held to a higher standard of extending responsibility and comfort to others who are hurting or who have been oppressed or whose rights have been sh*t on, then you can take your nihilistic individualistic perspective and f*ck off – this writing isn’t for you, and neither are the opinions within.

.5. Sorry this entry is completely lame. But it is an entry and it’s a first step to me overcoming the shit writer’s block that has placed my mind in a logjam…xxoo

From friend Charles Glass:
“Attached is an open letter concerning the Israeli war on Gaza. If you agree with its terms, please send your signature directly to p.hallward@mdx.ac.uk . It has to be done today for some reason. Many thanks and best wishes.”

Israel%20must%20lose%2C%2014%20Jan%202…pdf

My article can be found and read here.

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Please share.
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This is my article at rabble re the war on Gaza.

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Gaza.mp3

I sure do say “absolutely” a lot.
& Happy new year to you all.

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Seriously – what’cha waitin’ for? Film drops today…pick it up and watch it. Buy it if you can afford to…share it with your friends and get the message out if you’ve not already done so.

Also…vote (or shut up), if you’re in Canada.

I am going back into my much-needed & welcome phase of chillaxin’ – I will eventually be back on a regular blogging basis. x

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Review’s complete and up at Rabble.

…as well as the official John Cusack myspace home.

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.1. There was a couple I used to see together on a regular basis.
Then one day, I saw the woman standing alone and watched her watch this once-very-intimate part of her life walk past and make nothing more than an awkward nod in her direction, after which she stood alone, crying.

People stared at her, so I walked over and quietly asked her if she was okay.
She told me the story of what had transpired between her and this piece of shit who can’t actually be called a man who believed that it was proper behaviour…nay, necessary behaviour to get drunk and proceed to both verbally and physically assault her.
This had caused a break up.

But not for long.

I’ve now once more been seeing them together. Kissing. Cuddling. Feigning that sickly ‘love’ that makes me want to gag. Because, I know. Because I fkn know and because last week, I saw her with a bruised eye.

But I’m sure: He’s changed. And they’re in love. And she can’t help it. And he’s not a drunken fukwit. And she’s got all the self esteem in the world. And he’s going to change. And she promises to support him. And he’s sorry he missed another AA meeting. And she still loves him. And he’s sorry sorry sorry sorry for hitting her again. And it’s okay, because they’re in love, but I think I may have mentioned that already.

.2. I never did get around to telling you what happened at the end of my most recent NYC trip – and I promise to eventually get around to it. But for now, let me share one moment that still boggles my mind.

We were seated in the airport – delays all over the god damn place. Delays without explanation and without (later we found out) merit. People were antsy and generally obnoxious and annoyed because the world revolves around them.

There was a woman seated on the ground and minding her own business. She was working on her laptop (as many of us were) and an older gentleman walked past and tripped on the cord of the laptop. She apologised profusely and…he didn’t accept.

Neither did his daughter (who may have been aged at around 45) nor his wife. In fact, they decided to sit across from this woman and berate her loudly and aggressively as she sat there quietly, alone in a waiting room filled with people staring and fkn doing nothing. After a few moments, things quieted down and then all of a sudden I heard the following, at which point I stepped in: “…she’s ugly. No wonder she’s gotta work…probably doesn’t have children. Look at her…who’d marry this bitch, anyway…dried up ovaries…”

And I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t sit there for another moment “minding my own business” because bullying at that level immediately made it my business. I am still shocked that no one else in that room thought the same thing, because trust me when I tell you these people were loud – and when that sort of ‘confrontation’ takes place, people generally stop to see where the noise is coming from. An audience to the ugliness and to the pain and humiliation of others starts to feed on the euphoria of not having to be that person.

I turned around and motioned to the woman on the ground, and asked her to come over and sit next to me.

The mother and the father and their pathetic, wanting, idiotic, dredge of a daughter stared at me as though I were some kind of alien. They looked insulted that I had stepped in. They were offended that I was involving myself in their business. And when the woman quietly packed up her things and came and sat next to me and started thanking me, the family started to mumble again, so I turned around (my back was to their face) and I very quietly said: “if there’s something you need to say, then you need to come around here and say it to the both of us. Don’t count this woman as being alone anymore.”

They didn’t say another word.

.3. Finally. If you’ve still not done so, then I need you to please make the effort to catch War, Inc at any one of the following theatres….

COLORADO: THE ABBEY THEATRE
128 East College Dr. (970-385-1711)

COLORADO: LYRIC CINEMA CAFE 2
300 E. Mountain Ave. (970-493-0893)

IOWA: VARSITY II
2412 Lincoln Way (515-292-0450)

NEW YORK: HI-WAY DRIVE-IN THEATER
10769 State Route 9W

OHIO: CEDAR LEE THEATERS
2163 Lee Rd. (216-321-5411)

OREGON: LIVING ROOM THEATERS
921 SW Washington St. (971.222.2010)

TENNESSEE: DOWNTOWN WEST CINEMA 18
1640 Downtown West Blvd. (865-693-6327)

…only if interested in my political ramblings.

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.1. I’ve had to place comments on moderation once again because there is a crazy pervert on the interLoose. Sorry about that; please understand that unless you’re the crazy pervert, this isn’t about you and your wonderful comments.

.2. I had brunch with K+S a few days back and had an absolutely amazing time. They are soon moving to Vancouver and although I am extremely excited and happy for them, I do already miss them.

But enough about them.
They met Lulu!

And this morning, S sent me this:
“It seemed impossible that I had ever lived without Lulu. And the closer I got to her, the more I knew that she was the only person I had ever cared to know. Lulu was an entire population. You could string adjectives together like daisy chains and not describe Lulu. Verbs came closer: soaring, crashing, yearning, laughing, dreaming, kissing. But metaphors came closest: Lulu was a white-hearted starburst, a silver-crested wave. Lulu was the sound electricity makes.”
- from ALL ABOUT LULU by Jonathan Evison

…because that’s just the kind of friends that God has blessed me with.

(Pretty fkn blessed, indeed.)

.3. I am reading a book titled Ezekiel on recommendation.

This book is killing me as I am having a very difficult time reading it in one fell swoop. Or maybe it’s because I should be reading it in one full swoop?

Anyway. I usually read several books at a time, something with which most of you are familiar. Ezekiel‘s placed a damper on that reality, because Daniel Berrigan’s work is anxious and immediate and rushed and angry and confused and confusing and challenging. I can’t read more than a few pages a day, because…

…while reading, the words tumble quietly through my head until they start to push against the insides of my mouth and my face because they want to be screamed aloud for everyone to hear them.

It’s brilliant; he’s brilliant; read him.

.4. I carry sunshine around in my pocket. Did you know?

.5. July’s 2008 CrackBook status updates are linked here.

.6. Thanks to all for the wonderful and kind notes of love re Dave McMurran. You always overwhelm me. Always.

As for Yazo’s Q. The only thing I can say to you about Dave is that if ever there was a righteous cause and a righteous side, Dave found it and stood firm. He did it with full conviction and honesty of spirit; both of these things a rarity in this day and age.

He genuinely and unflinchingly cared for the well-being of others and carried around a pure heart.

Allah yir7amuh.

.7. I’m learning how to deal with a variety of new things…namely the tackling of my own level of patience (of which I actually have none). It’s a real trip, this tackling, and any lessons that life is willing to teach me, I try to always be a ready student.

.8. Am off to Montreal for the weekend to chill out with R. I’ve been promising to get out there for an extended period of time so that we may do nothing while being around one another and I’m finally getting there to do just that (especially since I didn’t get to see her last weekend while there for less than 24 hours). All other trips have been committed in haste, but inshallah, not this one. Can’t wait.

.9. I’ve found the perfect excuse to shop for a new wallet. Theft.

Last week, my wallet was stolen from atop my desk (hurrah for workplace security!). To avoid the confusion that I had to work through, I strongly encourage you to immediately:

- Make a list of all items in your wallet and keep the list apart from your wallet.

- Within that list, keep the numbers of all cards (including things such as library cards or Shopper’s Drug Mart or MEC or whatever…).

- If you are a moron and you keep your SIN in your wallet, take it out immediately. It is with your SIN that individuals can commit full identity theft.

- For the Canucks: As soon as your wallet is stolen / goes missing, ensure that you contact the three following credit bureaus and notify them of the loss. They will flag your name / file for the next 6 years, indicating that there is a higher risk of identity fraud where you’re concerned. What this does is it ensures that should anyone apply for a loan in your name, extra security measures are invoked in an effort to protect you. Experian at 1.888.826.1718; Equifax at 1.800.465.7166; and, TransUnion at 1.800.663.9980.

.10. Last but not least…in fact, last and most difficult is that I have to soon say goodbye to one of my dearest friends. Simply put, I love this woman and when she told me that she was moving out West, it broke my heart a little. Or a lot. She is soon to become the Dean of Applied Sciences at the University of British Columbia. I am proud. (But still, when she told me over dinner…I had to pretend I was extremely interested in my food so as to not show her the first signs of my tears.)

11 August 1953 – 26 July 2008

“Verily to Allaah we belong and unto Him is our return.”

May you rest in peace, Dave; Your passing will be felt in one too many activist circles to mention.

If you don’t already love John Cusack and his WarIncTeam… (Click only if you’re interested in reading the political side of me.)

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Please Note: I am typing directly into blogger. The following is likely filled with grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. Please forgive…I am exhausted. xo

.1. Breakfast was a cob salad without the bacon. I drowned myself in Le Pain Quotidienne’s lattes because they were so good.

.2. I purchased a book here.

.3. Noticed that LG’s new advertisement campaign for Scarlett TVs has a grammatical error in it; their tag is “…bla…bla…Scarlett TV’s”. Morons.

.4. NYC men are pretty awesome. Two conversations of note:

(a) I was crossing the street when a relatively attractive dude nearly fell into me while roller blading.
“I almost fell in the right direction there…”
“hee hee.”
“ha ha.”
(silence and he rolls away, then turns around and rolls back toward me)
“Can I invite you to my art show?”
“Sure…but I’m only here until Sunday…”
“Where are you from?”
“Canada.”
“Well then why don’t I give you all of my info – maybe this’ll be the romance that spans somethingOrOtherIDidn’tReallyHear…”
“tee hee.”
“SomethingElseSaidThatICan’tRemember.”
“I’ll definitely pop by and see your work.”
“The gallery it’s at is great, too.”
“Well then I’ll make certain to go…”
…and I plan on doing just that tomorrow, Inshallah. Find Patrick Collins’ art here, please.

Update to add: I went to the gallery and checked out his work. Cool stuff.

Aside: I will never ever see Patrick again and that was a quickity split conversation on the side of the street but still: how can you not love that Alpha in some men? The men who just go for it? The men who see something and just: GO. For. IT. Love it when a man does that.

Determination and strength are sexy. A man who knows what he wants is a fox.

(b) Some well dressed but much too old dude stopped me as I was about to cross the street and head into Karim Rachid’s shop (dude’s a fellow Carleton grad, so I am obligated to support him).
“You are Italiano.”
“No.”
“You are not Italiano?”
“No.”
“Yesssss. You must be Italiano – you are much too beautiful not to be Itali-.”
“I’m Palestinian.”
“Palestinian? What is? Hmmmm. Where is Pales-.”
“I’m a Middle Easterner.”
“Palestinian? You model?”
“No.”
“You should model. Palestinian?”
“MIDDLE. EAST.”
“You are EGYPTIAN?”
“NO!”
“Me? I design special clothing for Scoop. You know Scoop?”
“Yes. I have to go. I’m late.”
“I want you to model for me.”
“I use my brain to make my money…but thank you, anyway. BYE!”
“We use our brain too in my industry. We are full of smart people! Ha ha! You are too beautiful to use your brain, anyway.”
“Smart? Like you? Like you who doesn’t know PALESTINE smart? I don’t know if I’d call that smart. Tee hee heeeee.”
And I bolted across the street but not before he’d handed me his business card. Weird and random.

.5. I saw War, Inc.

(You will laugh. You will be sick. You will be sad. Most importantly, you will be enraged.)

War, Inc is about life for sale. It is about the branding of Government, military, religion, relationships and the pornification of the ‘female’. Every single thing is up for sale. I’m not going to say any more about this film except that you need to get your asses in motion and get to a theater as soon as possible. Support this film in any and all ways you can. (Before the film started, I was standing outside and taking photos – three people approached me and asked me why. I fished; They came into the film with me.) I’ll be writing a piece on it and so I won’t give you anything more. You’ll have to wait until the article is complete and published at Rabble to read it.

P.S. Joan Cusack is a fk’n RockStar of gigantic proportion. I want to take that woman out for a drink and tell her all of my tales.
P.S. Marisa Tomei is a beauty as she has a face untouched by botox.

.6. I gave this man all of the cash I had.

.7. I ate a pretzel.

.8. We hung out at Bryant Park with the assumption that there was going to be Opera In The Park. I was completely stoked to sing along…until we found out that we were in the wrong park.

Instead, we took stupid pictures.

.9. We splashed past Rockefeller Plaza.

.10. Ate dinner at La Lanterna in George Washington Square.

.10+1. And finally ran home through the pouring rain. We were soaked and satiated.

John Cusack’s War, Inc CrackSpace has posted one of my political pieces here as their most recent blog entry.

I am humbled that they think enough of my writing to post it alongside the likes of Naomi Klein. I am so uncharacteristically speechless. Scroll down and look at my spaztic comment about my own article – no one knows I wrote it but Nick / Yvonne / John and YOU. (Now you finally know my last name; forgive the coy?)

(Artists are smart folk, yo! )

Have you told people about War, Inc? Have you friended War, Inc on CrackSpace? What about CrackBook? They will not e-reject you. Promise!

GODSPEED! SAVE DARKIE, SAVE WHITIE, SAVE THE WORLD! YALLA!

Proof that a Muslimah can be inside of a Church without catching Hell fire.

Someone tell McBush, STAT.

I don’t have a clue how to work myspace, but hopefully you do and you will be able to do something with this link.

John Cusack’s latest and greatest is War, Inc. and it is, from its attempted (& failed) murder by Those Who Would Have You Never Know to the brilliant and shiny reviews of Those Who You Should Be Getting In Bed With…sounding rather spectacular.

Please support it any way you can; it’s these sorts of challenges to the status quo that require our attention.

And if anyone does know how to work myspace, please let me know what the hell I’m supposed to do in order to become an official myspace supporter of War, Inc.

(I like to go here in order to find out in which manner Iraq and it’s folks are being screwed on any given day.

And remember:

Vote McBush, y’all!
Keepin’ Whities strong and darkies screwed.
Your natural resources Whitie’s Mine All Mine.
Praise his Jesus!
Vote McBush!
*Insert pompoms and back flips and fists in the air and up your bum, Darkie! and short skirts over blond McBush*
YAY!
HURRAH!
GO RICH WHITIE GETTIN’ RICHER & HILLBILLIER!

And finally, honestly and with deep sincerity:

May Allah indeed bless America by giving it back to those who would uphold the values that should be cherished, the freedoms that should be protected and the rights that are owed to all and not merely a few.

Support War, Inc.
Tell your friends.)

“YES WE CAN, TOE THE LINE!”

…and to the United States of America. This is one of the most important and brilliant days of your still young life, America, and it is one of which you should be proud – no matter which nominee you supported.

Bravo.

“Children as young as 6 have been forced to have sex with aid workers and peacekeepers in return for food and money…”

I started crying when I read the above article, and it didn’t get much better as I was reading the report itself. Please read it if you can as it’s just a quick 37 pages. Then do something about it, either by donating money or sending an email or writing a letter or volunteering at a local shelter for abused children.

I’ve been reading a lot lately about child sexual abuse and exploitation and I can not actually coherently articulate what I think should happen to adult men** who so much as touch anyone below the age of 18. My ‘articulation’ can’t form a linear coherent and logical train of thought; it does, though, give rise to images of crowbars, bats, chains and rusty saws. Without exaggeration, the Saw films would look like a Disney undertaking compared to my imagination.

Sad aside: Did you know that most of the time the (vile, repugnant, unworthy of life) Molester is a trusted family member or someone that would be characterized as a family member, such as an ‘uncle’ figure?

Even sader aside: Most of the time, the parent(s) is aware that something is going on.

What would you have done to both the parent and that ‘uncle’? What would you do? Because there is nothing that you could tell me you would do that I’ve not already imagined I too would do. And then some. Or maybe: And then too much to merely call “some”.

Parents have a duty to protect their children with their life. As I type this, I choke on the mere thought that my parents would shirk this responsibility where I was concerned, as a child, or where I am concerned still, as an adult.

This duty, I believe, is among the most important – if not the most important in our lives. I can’t possibly imagine what kind of weak, pathetic, disparate character one would possess if they suspected that their child was being molested and DID NOTHING. I actually can’t imagine it. I can’t wrap my mind around it. I can’t think straight if I try to understand it and I loose all cool even writing about it.

When those duties are not taken seriously or with the ferociousness as the protection offered in the animal kingdom when a mama or baba has to protect their cubs, then that “parent” deserves to have every bone in their body broken. And I don’t give a rat’s ass about the cycle of violence; I don’t care if that parent was previously abused or neglected because there is NO EXCUSE. There is NO EXCUSE. You want to cry me a f*cking river about your past; I’ll tell you to f*ck off, still.

As with the situation referenced above, there is – and I don’t use this term lightly – an ‘evil’ to the character of those who would commit such a crime against children. A parent’s silence is an equally – if not more so – wretched complicity in the act.

There is no recourse, there is no apology, and there is no forgiveness of these individuals. There should only be death.

I’ve just donated to Save the Children (Canada); I recommend you consider doing the same. For those of you in the USA, you may donate here, while those of you in the UK, can make contact with the organization here.

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** Save for very rare situations, the impulse to sexually molest children does not seem to be part of the psychological composite of females, but is, rather, a compulsion that seems to lie deep within the male psyche.

Apologies for my going off topic, but the subject of child molestation is one of a handful of subjects that throw me into a tailspin…as you’ve just witnessed.

“We have come and we have stolen their country…We must do everything to insure they never do return.”
- Israel’s first Prime Minister David Ben Gurion

“apartheid nature of Israel state”
- UN Resolution 338/339

Not everyone in the Jewish community celebrates this day. Please visit NION for more information.

It’s called: Bash The Muslim, Just Because. (Soft sell bigoted rhetoric that serves as foundation for hate mongering.)

Thanks for this, Hillary: “Clinton told ABC News: “I want the Iranians to know that if I’m the president, we will attack Iran.

‘In the next 10 years, during which they might foolishly consider launching an attack on Israel, we would be able to totally obliterate them.’”

I love that! “Obliterate”. She will “obliterate” an entire country.

Less Muslims in the world. Hurrah!

Is one of the properties my (father’s) family owns in Gaza. On this land were thousands of orange, grapefruit, lemon, olive & valencia trees. We’ve owned this land for generations and it has fed and housed generations.

There are pictures of me as an infant playing and sleeping among the trees, covered head to toe in dirt.

It was where we welcomed guests; it was where my cousins and I ate fresh cactus fruit and hid from the adults.

It was there pictured my mother and my father and a newborn infant, still a happy couple.

It will always be there that my favourite picture of my paternal grandfather and I was taken; it’s a black and white photo of him seated shelling peanuts and handing them to a four year old me in bloomers and a sleeveless dress covered in flowers. I was looking at the camera squinting, smiling and waving with a fat hand because my grandfather was spoiling me.

My paternal grandfather commanded respect, not love. As an infant, the barriers paid attention to by adults meant nothing to me, though I would later grow into a teenager who was scared of this man, who held her tongue in his presence and who often wondered why he’d bothered having children.

I have become a woman who understands that the choices we make in this life define who we are, and even though his choices made him a difficult man to love, I hold on to that photo, on that land, in that summer house, and let it guide my heart when I think of this Seedo.

This past weekend, the Israeli Defence Forces went on to our property and uprooted each one of those trees.
They demolished our home.
They have left: Nothing on 100 acres of land.

There is no justification, but there is an explanation: Apart from the psychological warfare in which Israel is engaging against the Palestinians, so too does it every day engage in economic warfare. This instance is one of them. The land was viable. The land was productive and healthy and offered fruit and vegetables to Palestinians. That is reason enough for the State of Israel.

Our property is not unique, we are not to be pitied for this loss as there is nothing ‘special’ about it (only that we’ve managed to escape the bulldozers for so long); our land is one of thousands that has been raised. It will not be mentioned in history aside from a default into the land that was destroyed by the State of Israel.

Only, it is unique to us, my family; it is a part of our history and no matter the size of that tank or the size of that bulldozer, that is one thing that – try as they might – the State of Israel will never occupy or demolish.

“Stop, O people, that I may give you ten rules for your guidance in the battlefield. Do not commit treachery or deviate from the right path. You must not mutilate dead bodies. Neither kill a child, nor a woman, nor an aged man. Bring no harm to the trees, nor burn them with fire, especially those which are fruitful. Slay not any of the enemy’s flock, save for your food. You are likely to pass by people who have devoted their lives to monastic services; leave them alone.”
-Islamic rules for engaging in warfare. (My guess is that the Jewish God agrees…)

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I look forward to the day when the sighting of “Jesus” is the sighting not of the European white male version of him (which, I believe is version 2.7), but of, perhaps, a man who looks a little more Semitic. A little more like Adam Sandler, Steven Spielberg, Tony Shalhoub or even Omar Sherif but with longer hair and a little wee beard, too.

But then will anyone recognize poor Hay-zeus (blessings be upon him)?

You must please read Vanity Fair’s The Gaza Bombshell.

It is a lengthy article and so I recommend you print it up and then read it when you are in the proper state of mind.

A friend has just sent me this hilarious anti-war sign. Likely, the author wanted to end it with “YOU IDIOT!” but ran out of room.

Which brings me to the hat I purchased and forgot in Dubai, because it never ceases to amaze me just how misunderstood Islam’s perspective on Christianity and Jesus are. (Read: Because it’s nice to f*ck with people’s ignorance as often as time permits…)