Friday, October 28, 2011

No Smoking...

Smoking is really bad for you, so am told. So is occupation. But no one talks of the latter.
I read article after article of how smoking will kill you but nothing about how occupation kills you.
I have smelled many fake smoking guns in my lifetime, and just the fake secondary smoke killed us. It's called LIES. Lies kill you too.

I am always very impressed (not) when all of you "civilized" people care so much about health. You are so fearful for your little lungs, little heart, little liver and little pancreas. Oh the sacred little life of yours. As if you made a fucking difference.

Save my ass - you cry - imploring WHO and latest medical technology.

Did you ever think of saving someone else's ? Bet your rotten ass most of you haven't.

And as you are tanning that ass of yours in some sun, sex and sea resort, and frowning upon smoking ...let me remind you that -- some never saw the light of day.

Not because of smoking, not because of their own "irresponsible" behavior, but because of YOURS

While you were resting your asses reading articles about how to preserve your health and extend your worthless longevity, a thousand others were dying of your secondary smoke. And it did not come from a cigarette either.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Mister the Sheikh.

Tell me mister the Sheikh -- have you ever been down and out ?
tell me mister the Sheikh -- have you really tasted it all ?
Tell me mister the Sheikh, what do you really know about Life ?
Have you ever been a lump of dough in an anonymous baker's hand ? have you ever walked the streets with empty pockets ? have you ever stood on curbs selling yourself ?
Tell me your highness, tell me what do you know, apart from your sermons, apart from your cushioned safe existence, apart from your certitudes...tell me what do you know ?
Tell me what do you know mister the Sheikh, apart from wagging your finger like a dog's tail
Have you bled, have you cried, have you screamed in solitude ?
Shaken not stirred..stirred not shaken
Tell me mister the Sheikh
tell me...

Thursday, September 8, 2011

A Failed Shepherd

I am not God, thankfully not God. But I can imagine had I been a God or Goddess, had I been an It, I would probably be counting my lost sheep by now...

The shepherd has failed big time...he dispersed the livestock, the herd instead of gathering it together. He substituted the gold calf for the innocent lamb...he led them astray into thorny pastures, pitting them one against the other, one against the self...

Maybe the failed shepherd thought he was doing some good, but maybe he never thought, maybe he never engaged in thinking...

Maybe the shepherd was just a viscerally frightened sheep himself, lacking trust...maybe he was hoping to be taught a lesson from his herd...I don't know, am not God.

All I know is that he led them astray...and it's going to take One Almighty Shepherd to bring them together again.

Friday, September 2, 2011


They want to get into my insides...they always want to get to the insides of a woman.
They have an army of them....moralistic preachers...the women at the forefront.
They want to shut you up...from the truth
you carry it diligently, vigilanty, a trusted gift.
They will use all idioms, all sentences, all phrases...they will denigrate you, slur you, exclude you...
They will put you down, belittle you.
They will accuse of heresy, of madness
they will call you names, all sort of names
they will threaten you, harass you, stalk you
they will lull you, coax you, play with you...

Don't give in
Don't give up
Your insides
You've already come a long way.


Resistance is like Fire.
Resistance is like starts with words...
It says There is no God but Allah...
It turns its face to the East
it starts ploughing...

It first pulls out the bad seeds, the unwanted weed
Resistance is not stupid, it can differentiate...
Resistance comes from Experience
If you don't experience, you can't resist.

Resistance is not about Words
Resistance is about Principles
It's about Human Dignity

The West gambled on you...
it erased Dignity from your vocabulary
Slaves have no dignity

Do you want to become slaves
all over again ?
you long for slavery
being patted on the head
Is that how desperate you have become
for a little approval ?!

Stand tall and proud
You have roots.
I am here to remind you.
They want you to forget
but am here
to remind you.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

A Holy Month

We are not perfect...we are constantly striving...well I hope so, I doubt it though.

Ramadan is near, it's a holy month, where Grace descends, like a rain washing away dirty's a holy month...but don't take the blessings for granted...

Every day is a Ramadan, every day is a holy day...don't be like a greedy banker, thinking he can get away with it till the end of year audits...Ramadan being an extra bonus.

I am using the language of finance because that is the language you understand best...what am really trying to the following.

Throughout the year; you have cheated, you have lied, you have deceived, you have led to believe, you have pretended, you have abused you are banking on Ramadan, hoping the Rain will wash your dirty street.

Yet you have not rectified, you have not made want to get away with it.

Let me tell you, there is no such thing. God is waiting to hear from the ones who have been harmed with your acts, and He will do so during Ramadan.

Sunday, July 24, 2011


I am not so keen on Fundamentalists, even though I have a strong penchant for Fundamentals. I just happen to believe that fundamentalists, have nothing of the fundamentals, hence my dislike for the former.

I suppose I start out from the premise, that if you are convinced in your heart of hearts, you don't need to demonstrate that extra zeal to make up for what is essentially a lack of conviction. Besides I think they just hold the stick from the wrong end...i.e upside down. And I also believe no one has full monopoly over the Truth, the GENERAL Truth. Your personal truth you keep to yourself. To be respected, and you owe respect in return.

Besides one extremism always calls for another...I am essentially for the Middle Path.

Friday, July 22, 2011

You are never alone with John Wayne.

You are never alone with Schizophrenia - the latter is not mine, it is a graffiti I spotted in a public toilet...I like to give credit where credit is due.

I suppose we all are more or less schizophrenic, I like to think am a little less but am not even sure all depends on what my other says, only then will I be able to confirm...

My other, is the John Wayne...I like to call him John Wayne because even though he's no cowboy as such, he sure does behave as one - tough and rough. My John Wayne does not wear a cowboy hat and does not frequent saloons and bars, at least not in public, he has no guns hanging from his hip, and he does not smoke Lucky Strike or Marlboro, well sometime he John Wayne is eclectic, can be gender less, sometimes he wears a Hijab and sometimes grows a beard...and at other times, he's clean shaven...My John Wayne is a dirty motherfucker in disguise.

He talks with a slow, grave voice, as if coming from the heavens...imperious, serious, stern...
My John Wayne has it all figured out...the how much, how many, the whom and the's clear cut in his mind. No debate, no argument, he holds the Truth. No, he grips the Truth with both hands because he likes to think he's so powerful, so together, so pious, so pure.

My John Wayne, whether dressed as a male or as a female, will always have the right quotations handy, s/he has rehearsed them in the the dark, after happy hour, or after some hard hanky panky from behind the veil...ablutions done and the sermons start...

My John Wayne is obsessed with Sex...anything sexual, or anything that can be interpreted in a sexual way...his interpretation of course...John Wayne fights what he loves most. He's an armed Don Quixote fighting his fantasies...or her fantasies...the more s/he fights, the more s/he resorts to outer signs of piety...

From your standard schizophrenia, you grow into something more complex, a full blown obsessive compulsive neurosis...a bright future to look forward to. I mean, why be a simple schizophrenic when you can be a complex co-morbid one ?

But John Wayne likes it complex...well, mine does.

Sex remains the core...but clothed in so many layers...let's say, well covered up. An asexual God, a God who has no sex, becomes all sexed up.

Don't frown your God not obsessed with Sex ? Is the God in your mind not totally hooked on it ?

Not that there's anything wrong with that, but why play the Holy Virgin ? Why judge and why preach chastity when in your mind you do nothing but undress ?

Of course, this is all painted in a caricature, not.

Just as my John Wayne has so many layers of clothing, he also has so many layers of Truths...

Tonight, he has been benevolently tolerant, and has only allowed me one level of unveiling, of undressing...

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Madame La Comtesse...

She trotted down the stairs, taking on the airs of a forgotten Contessa , a Contessa that no one had heard of before...a Contessa that never made it into any history book, a Contessa born in a God forsaken village, a provincial soul dressed in a copy of an Armani dress with made in Taiwan Gucci shades, driving a Mercedes Benz...

She understands nothing, Madame La Comtesse, her husband as limited as her, does all the learning...but they did buy a Steinbach piano, so the little ones can finally join and play Clair de Lune.

She calls Debussy, Dabboos...but I can assure you, she will eventually get it right. A question of time and $.

What Madame La Comtesse would really like instead, is to smoke the Sheesha, the Narguileh - on a Friday or maybe on a Sunday, to some folk song tune from her village, but the HSBC account forbids that.

You see, she needs to keep up the airs of the provincial Contessa in her too tight to fit Swarovski studded jeans, her made in China stiletto sandals, her fake L'Oréal blonde, her 500$ nose job and her two maids.

Basically she hates Dabboos,(Debussy) but it does look good on her provincial CV and that of her trying hard to be husband....and besides, HSBC approves of it.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

What's With Voltaire ?

I chose Candide because I like Voltaire. Not that am very well versed in French Literature and Philosophy . It's just the name Voltaire that appealed to me.

So why Voltaire ?


Vol in French means Flight or Theft.
Taire is the verb to Silence, to make someone Shut up.
Taire or Tayr in Arabic is Bird.

So could it be that Voltaire means the Theft of a Bird, or the Silencing of a Bird, or to end it on a more optimistic note as in the Optimist (another name for Candide), the Flight of a Bird ?

Knowing how Reality is made, it's most likely the combination of all three.

An Introduction.

Another blog ? Yes why not. What for ? Am not quite sure myself, nor do I know where am heading with it. I just know it had to be.
I am still unclear as to what I shall be writing here and how often, but I do have an inkling. The blog title is a giveaway.