Send A Starving Afghan Money!

(,)

Dressed for a downpour, and it wound up sweltering today. I got my passport application from the main Post Office in Berkeley, thankfully the passport looks set to be cheaper than I had anticipated. ($67, not counting bureaucratic fees which are roughly $30) Six weeks is the approximate waiting period, and I'm fine. I have until the end of the semester to wait until I decide where to go and when.

Syria, Yemen, or Afghanistan. Two year ceiling. I'm still conducting my own preliminary research into language programs. Syria looks like the cheapest, and their colloquial is closer to fus'ha. So, if I go anywhere, it'll be there. (Or Afghanistan, should the mood for dysentary strike.)

Midterm on Monday in my course on Islamic Jurisprudence. Can I get an Allahu Akbar? Saturday, cruising Concord to peddle useless books to dealers who'd sooner burn than buy them. I've looked through her [Maya] collection, and it kills me to say this (And since she reads this blog, saying this actually may result in the visitation of irreparable bodily harm upon my person): her books are crap. Mine are better. Always will be. Why? Because I am the man, and she is the woman. Mouth closed, vagina open. Thank you. Hey, don't come cussing at me, God told you to leave that fruit alone. It's written in the old books. It's true. Go look.

Kafka. Forced profundity. (read: off to diddle my clitoris.)

posted by qalam on Thursday, June 9, 2005 at 06:46 p.m.

A Cliff bar is crunching in my mouth. Deutsche Dwelle just ran a historical blurb on the 7 June 1905 declaration of independence by Norway from Sweden. It was mentioned that this is a model the world should aspire to in these troubled times.

When are the times not "troubled"? We could all aspire to that model in a world where our neighbors also happened to be our twins, genetically and socially -- where the only political and ethnic differences happen to be the few cubes of ice demarcating the border between the two countries.

Hans Fuerlich Schmincke tells me, as he's queried by the DWTV anchorman, that volcanoes are truly dangerous when they explode under ice or water. He shows me a piece of lava lodged in his skin. I shall remember this geological trivia when I next see my professor of Islamic Jurisprudence.

[raises hand in class]

"Volcanoes are truly dangerous when they erupt under ice or water, didja know that huh? HUH?? NO YOU DIDN'T UNTIL I TOLD YOU."

"No Sayed, I didn't know that. What does that have to do with Hanafi legal pronouncements on Salah?"

"Sand itches wawaid."

posted by qalam on Tuesday, June 7, 2005 at 09:09 a.m.

The laptop cackles a live feed it's streaming from BBC, "Baghdad has the unenviable status of the most dangerous city on Earth... UN Climate Commission convenes in... [I zoned out] Accra, Ghana... [unintelligible]..."

Watermelon mist wafts up my nose, swirls block my vision of the tv; I get glimpses of a white man in front of a UN banner delivering good news to brown people in some far-away place.

My lower leg itches, I twist my leg to stretch a kink, the leather of the combat boot chafed against my sand skin. I wished my white socks stretched higher.

Jeff K. is in the other room, strumming his guitar and singing in a low voice. I reclined in my office chair in a spartan room with hard wood flooring. I feel rich in a shit-poor way. I thought of Gramsci and Hezbollah today. The former remains buried, the latter won all the seats in the latest elections in S. Lebanon. I wish Gramsci were a member of Hezbollah.

[BBC: "He could do no more for Bolivia... constitutional reform... Elliot... Carlos Mesa... tenders resignation... greater autonomy... Johnathan Beale in Ft. Worth...]

I'm thinking -- my usual routine remains usual: I moralized to Maya, meandered on campus, mused at my ex's imminent journey into her nebulous future with some eminent professor of "spank"-ology who might have happiness immanent to his soul.

If the glove fits, the judgement sits. The tv flickers between Camille and blue, telling me of life as a black female entrepreneur.

The hookah died, awaits for me to resurrect it with my breath.

["Later today, the British Prime Minister will meet with Russia for preparations... tackling poverty... Scotland... significant differences...]

The Trial. Kafka.

posted by qalam on Monday, June 6, 2005 at 08:56 p.m.

It looks set that the PC won't let me travel to the region of interest -- so I've written off the PC and am actively considering other options.

Deutsche Welle is running interesting cultural programming right now on Turkey. Off to brew some tea.

posted by qalam on Monday, June 6, 2005 at 09:37 a.m.

Parwaiz: On Evil

It is the aim of what follows to impart an understanding of my personal meditation on a popular though often poorly understood universal theme. What follows are merely sets of observations. The intent of what follows is not to expound upon existing, divisive theological schisms and their respective hermeneutical models of understanding or approach. Nor is the intent of what follows congealed around the notion of explicit and concrete moral or social conclusions. This is not meant to be understood as an analysis on its own merit, but rather observations bearing analytical overtones of trace significance connoting a necessary process of logical interpretation of an intrinsically irrational, illogical phenomenon.

I wish to broach the subject of evil, and propose my epistemological narrative. I believe evil is not immanent to Man, nor is evil immanent to man. Evil is not a meta-physical entity divorced from the capacity of human awareness. Evil is not immanent to Man as an abstraction, an ideal of sentient logical existence which due to ontological, teliological events, Man finds itself plagued by the ghost in the cosmic machinery. Evil is not immanent to man, either. I mean by this to say that man, is neither good nor bad, but a blank slate of potential range of conduct driven by possible genetic predispositions which may incline him towards a tendency, but overall is slave to his social surroundings to stoke the flame of that tendency, or to reshape it.

To assert than man is inherently evil, is patently absurd. This is the notion advanced by peculiar and questionable religious conviction, founded upon no rational process of thought. To examine this mode of thought would compel us to conclude that an unknowable entity created us merely to chastise us, and this resembles the flawed plot of an ill-conceived story. To assert that man is inherently good, is an equally dismissable and questionable notion as in this instance, the notion of good at its core is a value, and value doesn't exist on its accord without existing in the moral schema of a person, as the value exists without context otherwise and ergo is rendered meaningless. So on the one hand, we have a poor, flawed narrative and on the other hand we have an excercise in circular logic: value depends on that which assigns value, its value, without it, as stated, value in the abstract context, such as "good" or "evil" is rendered meaningless. Society defines the meaning of what is good, and what is evil. As such, man has no inherent assignment of value concerning evil or goodness. Predispositions towards aggression or pacifism are altogether a different realm of more plausible enquiry around which social notions of good and evil may form.

There is no core to man that is not bestowed to him by that which is external to him. Evil is a process which emerges among the exchanges of value among units of society, wherein objects or ideas of pre-assigned import or worth alternate in their ownership. To be evil, in nature, is to have already been socially inculcated in the doctrines and dogmas of what a society finds to be unacceptable modes of conduct. Without society as primary agent of influence, giving man the values which he is then hung by should he transgress against them: an impossible, or atleast untenable situation emerges -- evil. Evil is impossible as it is understood in the framework now provided. We must understand evil to be a transgression against value, ultimately, whose manifestations may be in the form of objects, notions or relations between units of that society. To remove oneself from society, to "de-program" one's mind of the value-sets engrained, would be to not only free oneself from evil, but to liberate onself from the potential of its very emergence.

What is evil? Evil is an act against value. As a result, its core is one based upon Nihilism. Nihilism is the philosophical belief which holds that no value-object is grounded in objective reality, and that the very notion of objective morality by extension is itself, also absurd.

Interestingly, this is the very existence man would face outside of a social context: man, alone. In this sense, one can assert that this is the goal of evil: to return man, individually, to a state of asocial isolation. Evil is not immanent to man, but immanent to his relations with other social units. Evil arises as an emergent property of moral exchange and its structural articulation. To demarcate what is good, and show its limits, concurrently shows the nature and boundaries of what remains outside of this demarcation -- evil.

To know the boundaries of goodness, then, is to know what the gates of evil resemeble, as well. Quite the introduction to a religious homily, I can well imagine.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, June 1, 2005 at 10:41 p.m.

I just shaved a Reform Jew named Owl in the bathroom with Maya watching -- Owl was hellbent on getting a dollar (preferably fifty) from me for little Iraqi girls who need a safehouse who've fallen out and may be the victim of honor killings. (translation -- they were whores.)

I didn't give him money, but I decided to trade a shave for his absence and as a form of recompense. So, I buzzed off his beard and helped to shave his neck.

One small step for man, one giant leap for Reform Jew - Shi'a relations.

Amen.

(Too bad they run our banks.)

posted by qalam on Tuesday, May 31, 2005 at 07:55 p.m.

I spent the day yesterday with M. at Mountain View Cemetary in Oakland, strolling past the tombs of notables like Ghirardelli and Doe (whom I'm cautiously suspicious is the same person who the UC Berkeley Doe Library is named after) as well as some people interred as early as the late 19th century. There were, apparently, civil war dead buried there.

I remarked to Maya during our trek (quite a bit of steep-incline walking was involved) that the tombs of some of these people, if not all of the people interred at the top of the hill were so large that most poor people would have envied the chance to have lived in them while alive.

I suppose great men (and women) deserve to have great tombs. Quite a number if not all of the major tombs had a phallus-like protusion ascending from their heights resembling obelisks. I suppose that's sexist, yes? That to stand out among the dead, requires by necessity first to "stand." This requires the erection of a monument of some sort: an obelisk or cylindrical column bearing some insignia (usually Masonic) or a crest (usually religious).

The truly great men, and I assume they were men, had such ornamentation -- obelisks -- but also had statues of women on each of the four corners of the cylindrical column or obelisk. This to my mind was a mark of true distinction. Not only do you get a big dick to mark where they buried you. You get some maidens on each corner of that dick in poses blowing trumpets, in poses with arms outstretched and other angels or maidens in contemplative poses over books.

I never cared much for obelisks, though I wouldn't mind a single maiden standing atop my gravestone or tomb. This is assuming I'm not buried in a bug-festered ditch somewhere in the third-world. Which we cannot rule out. I also mentioned the conceit of some of these people to M., as well.

We finally left when M. grew weary of passing dead and I for one didn't care too much of constantly being reminded of what all these stones and stairs and plots represent:

Each human being's inexorable progression towards the ultimate moment where they -- in the second after being in between barely alive and mostly dead -- die. It is the non-event of our lives, and we'll all be there to see it.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, May 31, 2005 at 09:35 a.m.

I just turned off the television after viewing it for precisely 4 minutes and 07 seconds -- I'm depressed and feel the need to convey some of my displeasure.

The state of society hasn't much changed in the last few years. Perhaps I'm observing it through darker lenses (Pessimism? Don't be absurd.); perhaps my perception of it has changed given my time in Berkeley, or perhaps because of my year-long (and then some) deliverance from that infernal transmitter of stultifying asshat rays -- the television, for those of you metaphorically-challenged (though, "transmitter" should have given it away) -- has caused to me cast new eyes upon the same old decaying society.

What tipped the balance in favour of my pushing the power button this time was a commercial, which seemed innocuous enough at first. It was what appeared to be a public television caution. The final scene is what this entry concerns. A young black male, perhaps no older than 10, approaches a mail-man dressed in typically dignified regalia -- blue shorts and striped shirt, carrying what was obviously public mail -- the young black male then stops and stares at the mail-man.

The audio of the commercial kicks in, and my jaw drops.

"If you don't teach them, they won't ask. Violence against women is just wrong."

I swear, had I been wired to a monitor, there would have been no registration of electrical activity in my brain for those few seconds of that statement being made. None.

I have a few things to say. First, who looks to public television to advise them on their private conduct of morality? Second, what does this tell the world about the inadequacies of the moral framework of Americans, that there is no uproar or embarrassment at having something like this aired? Third, why was the youngster black? Is this some sly attempt on the part of the local public network to communicate the implied notion that it is black men who are most likely to behave violently towards a woman (when we all know this is simply, simply, simply not true)? Finally, why are the feminists not up-in-arms over this? The commercial implied that women were weak, in need of public admonition on their behalf to keep them safe from roaming males with violent tendencies.

This public awareness message illustrated that America -- despite what the Bush administration would like you to believe -- is a racist, sexist and gender-violence oriented place. Actually, it's probably these three very things which the Bush administration itself, stands for. My apologies to the Bush administration for mistakenly attributing these issues to it as marks of ignominy, instead of as marks of meritorious distinction worthy of the highest praise.

Apologies, apologies, and once again my sincerest apologies.

Given my Berkeley-education and the gender-sensitive environment I've been immersed in, it only makes sense that sexism is the first issue I take up when I approach a social issue like this. What I take the most issue with -- above the racism and beyond the matter of the public morality intruding into the private moral space -- is the sexism. What problem does the local PBS affiliate have with me, personally, if I want to beat my woman senseless? I mean, can't I take my morality rod to the head of my own disobedient woman so that it makes a firm and gratifying "thwack" sound, in peace? Should the woman require the application of physical encouragement to resume her role as model of moral perfection, what issue does the local PBS affiliate have with it?

Furthermore, the commercial implies that, as alluded to earlier, women are weak and essentially incapable of defending themselves. Is this true? I assert that it is not. Women more than any other group in society have been taking self-defense courses and martial arts, and their numbers increasingly opt for the purchase of firearms -- so why the advertisement? Why the public admonition on their behalf?

Is it only men who beat women? Women beat women too, where's the public television notice for that? Hmm? I never see it. Instead, it's relentless male-bashing on the part of public television whose unflinching, uncompromising, unwavering goal it seems is the toppling of the American patriarchy, and nothing short of just that aim.

Also, what is meant by what they said when they mentioned that violence towards women is "just wrong"? Are they implying that their own brand of morality is absolute? Seems so. And furthermore, that their brand of moral absolutism is superior to others'? Sure seems that way to me. Talk about rank fascism of the first order. I can think of plenty of instances where it's just fine to beat a woman. I would beat a woman if my mother told me to beat one; I'd beat one to get ahead in line at my local supermarket; I'd beat one if the mood was right and the weather seemed nice; I'd beat one in self-defense; I'd beat one if it meant that it was either she or me that got onto the BART; I'd beat one who cheated on me (actually, in that instance, I wouldn't beat her, I'd just bust a cap right in her big wide ass.); I'd beat one if she tried to contaminate my wallet with her diseases if she reached for it in the instance of my possibly dropping it. You see? The reasons go on and on. Instead, what PBS faces us with is a black-and-white moral choice. Our way or the highway. Sound familiar? Sounds like the tactic of the Republican party to me. Sounds like the title of the syllabus of Bush's foreign policy 101 course to me.

It is due to this that I make the following proclamation.

Men of America, be warned. Show PBS that its immoral intrusion of their own relative view of gender morality is not one which the whole world must have wedged into its collective mouth, and booted down its collective throat. Show PBS that there is a coalition of the willing to beat their women. In that aim, I beseech you all, beat your women -- firmly yet lovingly -- so that the moral fascists at PBS realize their tyrannical agenda will be resisted down to the last moral man and his obedient woman.

posted by qalam on Saturday, May 28, 2005 at 08:40 p.m.

I was pinning my hopes on Jordan or Morocco and I'm somewhat concerned that I might be assigned somewhere other than the MENA region. If that winds up to be the case, then I'll have to write off the Peace Corps. To spend two years of a short life in a place that doesn't interest me in any respect is a sacrifice I'm not willing to make; it's one no sane person would make.

If I wind up being assigned Bolivia or some other hole, I'll probably just go to Afghanistan and spend a year or two there and apply to graduate schools from there. Same timeframe, just a different place and program. We'll see.

posted by qalam on Friday, May 27, 2005 at 08:00 p.m.

It feels good to be clean. I shaved my head after letting my hair grow quite a bit, and I shaved my face. I think more cleanly, more clearly when I feel cleaner. I wasn't dirty earlier, or even in need of a shower. I just needed to get the grime of hair growth off the back of my neck, off my head and face.

I spent the last hour and a half reading Manifesto: a depressing account of a bastard who's unable to root himself in any circumstances but itinerancy, who finds no joy but in drink and cigarettes, who exists but doesn't live. It seems to be set in the mid 80's or even earlier. It's a compelling read and written in vernacular conversational prose, it's vivid and offers a bitter portrayal of the average American life and its illusions. I suppose I'm reading it half out of curiosity and half due to the fact that it's strikingly telling and contemporary.

I suppose it's a higher-brow equivalent of smut literature -- not erotica, but just smut. Something that appeals less to the flesh and more to the intuitive understanding of the world and a confirmation of its shittiness. The kind of reading that doesn't challenge or elevate, but affirm and ossify existing notions of what's real in the world, and how people are generally exactly as you both expect them to be, and suspect them of being.

I read political theory and philosophy to elevate me, I read Kafka to fuel my persecution fantasies and stir the orange-hot embers of delight in the suffering of do-gooders and well-meaners, to underscore how life is absurd and not in terms of concrete and stunning masterpieces serving as examples of insanity for people to point to and say: "Look, that's why life is insane," but rather the creeping, innocuous, persistent and omnipresent "necessities" of life which on their own merit are insane but in a social context serve some perceived purpose.

A mother yelling at her son to clean his bed, without context, is an insane act. A mother yelling at her son in the context, or prison, of matrices of expectation and social norm, seems not only normal, but an act of necessity to enforce notions of domestic propriety that most people would applaud.

Manifesto is relevant in that it decontextualizes the specific acts that constitute the mundane operation of daily life, and in that decontextualization, reveals the insanity of most of individual human activity in the context of collective social behavior.

In that, Manifesto's shining achievement is that met objective of decontextualizing events and by narrative and example -- rather than patently assert this reality -- the reader is gently guided to discovering this truth, on his or her own -- one brutal and vivid example of isolation and alienation, at a time.

There's a can of Coke sitting to my left, and I thought of drinking it just now and felt my anus pucker in fright and my tooth enamel cringe in fear. Sometimes I wonder if there's a disconnect between my mind and body. My mind considering a thought, and my body not knowing if it will have one of its orifices violated by it, or another orifice refreshed by it.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, May 24, 2005 at 08:16 p.m.

I spent a day over the weekend at City Lights Bookstore in SF and just as I was about to leave, bent only on purchasing three books -- there was a fourth that due to expense, bothered me. It was a 30-40 dollar book, "Marx to Gramsci" and some other gibberish subheading. I think I'm a bad person. Along with buying a course text that's necessary (Hisham's Islamic Jurisprudence) I came across the same book I left behind at City Lights -- for 23 dollars, used, on Amazon.

In a few strokes, I ordered it. I'm giddy. Maya won't be surprised; I'm a fanatical collector. I meant to get it, and soon, oh yes children, VERY, VERY soon I shall have acquired it. I purchased an anonymous novel by the name of Manifesto (hmm?????) as well as The European Philosophers from Descartes to Nietzsche, and How To Read Karl Marx. The last book appealed to me due primarily to its concision and direct treatment of Marxist theory. I'm not about to pour over volumes of Das Kapital, to grasp his theory. His major and minor essays however, I would acquire; however, this "reader" gives quite a nice treatment of both early and later Marx -- so I'm less inclined to pour over pages of essays. I might extort Maya's Marx-Engels reader from her, too, I feel she would relinquish it to me under threat of unlubricated public sodomy, so that remains an option, as well.

I've often encountered people here who are utterly enraptured by Marx and feel the need to expound on one matter or another, and these people deify him personally. It's senseless and it's abasement to do so, and a mark of puerile character. No person whom I've ever personally deconstructed in the end, has said they actually read Marxist theory. At best, I've run across fine minds who've read minor works of his and some essays. Not one has ever cracked open a translation of Kapital, beyond possibly meaning to admire the dry prose of his theory.

Is it because of stupidity? No. It's because of laziness and effrontery. The same doesn't merely apply to Marx, but extends to Kant, Hegel, Nietzsche and on and on. From theoreticians to hack philosophers, hell, you can throw in Palahniuk in there for all it's worth. I've had people propound on Marx and drop terms, oozing pretension, unawares of who their interlocutor was. If I'm unread on a subject, I'll tell people that, or whomever I'm conversing with. But if you try to explain something to me and in that aim -- if the first word that comes out of your mouth is "Simulacra," and you've never read a word of Baudrillard, Lacan, Lyotard, Derrida or Foucault. If you feel post-structuralism is an argument againt using cardboard, you had either be stoned or brilliant. The same applies to the rest. If you mentioned the words "dialectical," "materialism," "alienation," "human," "fixed," "capital," "revolution," "class," "value," "worth," to me, or anything prefixed by the term "neo-" then you had better know what your point is.

Otherwise, talking to me might hurt.

The Marx reader I already have deals with his hard theory and includes sizeable portions of Kapital, and the one I just ordered contains many of his essays and continues on with treatments of interpretation of Marxist theory -- neo-Marxism -- of Lenin and others including, as the name of the book states, Gramsci.

I don't know where this entry is going in mind of a goal of communicating something critical to you, the apathetic reader. I for one, let it be known, would read Kapital and probably Marx's canon, entirely. Now, I'll impart unto you the single reason determining why I won't do this.

Readers. I love them. Their editors and compilers, chief in their field, select the choicest pieces of literature which articulate the core principles of an author's theory (Marx or whomever) and in doing so leave no real reason to actually read, from beginning to end, something like [A Critique of/A contribution to] The Political Economy of the Sign, for example.

Unless there is some truly esoteric, archaic and utterly uninteresting piece of the Marxist theoretical mechanism that requires elucidation on my part for the purpose of a Ph.D or Masters thesis or even a weighty undergraduate paper, then there exists no real reason for its exploration. Amateur academics -- and all undergraduate students qualify -- wouldn't be able to understand even a paragraph of the theory anyway should I point to one in Kapital and tell them. "Now, tell me what he means by this."

Unless a person has taken a class on Marxist theory, Kapital may become less monumental a task in deciphering -- even then, I've met people who have, and I've done a better job of it than they in offering meaningful analysis, and I've never formally studied Marx beyond merely engaging it myself as a leisurely research interest.

Furthermore, anyone who attempts to elaborate to me on Marx without referencing the material with which he constructed his synthesis -- Feuerbach [addressing the roots of alienation] and Hegel [his Philosophy of the Right deeply influenced Marx's notions of material relations]-- immediately discredits themselves. Maya is exempt of this risk -- she's memorized Kapital in its original German, and large portions of the Hegelian canon for the purposes of mentioning how their distinctions are arbitrary while righteously pointing her finger in the air as her mother plays the piano.

I applaud at this point.

I don't know if the emergence of readers has fuelled the phenomena of intellectual laziness on the part of students in this country, or whether that laziness has always existed due to the material excess that saturates students which engenders the social malaise they wallow in by which intellectual curiosity on the part of students is demonstrably stunted (I know, trust me, I talk to these people.) -- and, as a result of the latter notion, readers have emerged to fit into the niche role of metting out good theory at a minimum of active student interaction with text.

The latter notion asserts the Capitalist project has implicitly offered a thin strand linking this niche realm of student intellegentsia to the machinery of the project itself by filling this niche realm with a profit-making stopgap measure simply as a means of boosting the profit-potential of the Capitalist endeavor itself, with no aim implicit or explicit of aiding students -- it's just another way to make money, it may just as well be selling cars or real estate, were it not readers and other textbooks. While the former notion would posit the structural critique -- noting that material saturation that always existed influenced the culture, which affected the agency of individuals, which then prompted the emergence of the niche market for readers as an end to fill a need on the part of students while making some minor profit as a result, but profit not being the primary objective. This is the key distinction to be observed between these two thoughts of mine. The end is the same: readers emerge. However, the process by which readers emerge, is intriguing food for thought. Was it the nature of the mechanism of production? Capitalism itself? Or the perennial state of material excess to begin with, be it by way of Capitalism or a corrupt Socialist model, which created these circumstances? Is it the system which brings about this wealth responsible (Capitalism or Socialism,) or the existence of wealth, itself, as an entity -- responsible?

I believe it is the existence of wealth, itself -- and not the machinery which constructs the notions of its value and the parameters of its relations to peoples' interactions with each other -- that is chiefly responsible. Something to think about.

I think I should change my major to philosophy, I think I'd find hard answers there with greater ease than by debating trends of theory.

posted by qalam on Monday, May 23, 2005 at 06:57 p.m.

Just finished moving in today -- subletting. Might get a single or it may remain a double, the difference is three hundred dollars. New place is a few blocks away from campus, and I know it's been too long since I last posted anything so you may assume nothing of import has been taking place.

Summer classes begin Monday. I walked on Friday, and it was great. It would've been greater if the keynote speaker hadn't been who he was, the state Controller. Now, had he dropped dead, then it may have been a worthwhile experience. Rituals are necessary, they define junctures of closure, and I seem to need them. Existing in a fluid state of quasi-uncertainty never suited me.

Maya's done moving, I helped her finish packing last night along with her father. The hour of her departure is bearing down upon me, and I wonder what lies in store for me. I hope she enjoys France. She can now add another nick to the leather marking another relationship having come and gone.

Peace Corps interview is in a few days, and I'm told that they don't tell applicants where they get sent until after the medical review. We'll wait and see.

Life's assuming a dour countenance again, I feel perhaps it's about to acquire me in its sights and make an example out of me, only for the eight-hundred billionth time. I'm tired of entering relationships knowing that they'll end. I yearn for a permanency which I feel I may not come across any time soon, if ever, in a world increasingly enamoured by disposable emotions, gluttunous consumption and empty social interaction.

I feel a romantic longing, yet what does the face of permanency look like?

posted by qalam on Saturday, May 21, 2005 at 07:29 p.m.

The heat's beginning to gear up -- one more final to go. When it's over, I move to my new flat with a friend of mine, renting out a room -- a sublet essentially, on College.

Rent should be $USD470, which is great. I'll be a five minute bus ride from campus, and it beats the shit out of being surrounded by dumbasses or grime (as is the case in co-ops like Le Chateau, I'm sure among others, plus there's a workshift at co-ops, and god knows I don't want to spend what little time I have left here cleaning other people's shit.)

I'll be living in a spacious one-story flat, with one room mate, and two other guys, all science majors and underclassmen which means I'll be in a pretty clean environment dealing with reasonably mature people. Plus, it's alot cheaper than an apartment.

I.e. not a slew of ethnic and women's studies majors who play Che anthems at 2 in the ayem when I'm either sleeping, penetrating myself with a cucumber or smoking my argila, streaming BBC on my laptop.

They have wifi there too, woohoo. I might hardline it though, get a small router to fit into the back of the hub and put my ethernet cord to good use incase I have to worry about some roomie using his wificard to sniff or whomever. Not that I'm paranoid. It's just that, when in doubt -- hardline.

Off to pick up a pack of smokes with Maya.

posted by qalam on Monday, May 16, 2005 at 11:33 a.m.

Dept. of State checked out the blog this morning. No surprise there. I used to get hits from the DoJ too. At any rate, O Fortuna is playing, Orff always never one to disappoint. Maya owns the Carmina Burana album, as do I.

No surprise, often our tastes converge. I prefer the divergences, they add friction. Friction gets a bad rap, I feel. One that's unwarranted, unfortunately.

Friction. Ahem. Moving on.

I broke Maya's glasses not too long ago and spent some of the day with her mother and sister running around Walnut Crack or wherever, in relentless and stark pursuit of a replacement. As usual, Leela was disinterested and I kept the mother nicely entertained. Or disgusted, possibly.

Disgust is a form of entertainment, right? (Or is that a 'form of distraction'?)

Nekhebt, the elusive and shadowy type she is commented on my nightmare not too long ago. She seems to be the out-of-the-blue type. No surprises on that front.

At any rate -- impending discomfort looms as finals come and go, and as Maya comes, and goes. (Off to France, to indulge her mind and probably her body.) What is life, but a glimpse of illusory permanence? That's possibly the great deception, perhaps we're all fools for our attachment to it.

I wish I were consulted by God -- or whomever -- prior to the inception of the world.

Speaking of transitions: I just finished Baudrillard's The Spirit of Terrorism... one word.

Splendid.

posted by qalam on Friday, May 13, 2005 at 10:13 p.m.

French Foreign Minister Michel Barnier has urged Iran not
 to resume suspended nuclear operations, warning that
 to do so would lead to "consequences."
BBC

Now, who are the Europeans -- morally vacuous, ex-colonizers and bastions of hypocrisy and corruption of every shade and degree -- to dictate to the world what to do and how to live? When has France -- culturally decrepit global nexus of international faggotry and immorality -- or Germany -- hate-filled, former Fascist state, whose citizens were complicit in the murder of 12 million people -- contributed to global human aspirations?

Who are these farhangi safidposti munafiqeen and fasiq's to dictate to the world how it should live? Where is the respect for national sovereignty. Where is the excuse to escalate tensions with Iran? Is it being ruled by a blood-thirsty Ba'athist whom the US itself put into power?

No.

The only charge that can be levelled against the Persians is that their religious theocracy came to power after a legitimate popular revolution ousting the CIA lackey and honorary Frenchman Reza Shah Pahlavi -- rapacious in his lust for accruing material possessions and ignoring the people.

Hell, I think I just described both Saddam Hussein and Reza Shah, funnier still? They were both CIA lackeys.

Just when I thought a laugh was in order.

Now, what are these "consequences" of which the French pontificate in their typically self-righteous manner?

(France, you lost your "empire," you're no longer a global player, go back to having seasonal orgies and being generally inebriated.)

The "consequences" are namely one. Having Iran referred to the bully on the block, the US, by way of Security Council.

Oh no, not the "Americans!" Whose Midas Touch turns everything into failure or ruin! What are the Americans going to feasibly do? Place sanctions on Iran. Know what that means? Global resistance movements gets a ten fold boost in funding in their anti-American attacks. Can't say that's bad news, I'm sorry -- it's not. What could the Americans do? Invade, or bomb, or go through their proxy -- that little shit of a state, Israel, to do the bombing for them.

Time for an assessment. Sheikh Sayed prouldly offers you some insight as to why the Americans are about to further endanger themselves, and at worst, have their rather large, gluttunous asses, handed to them.

1. Using Israel -- they hit Iran. Hezbollah, Hamas, PIJ, PLFP, Fatah strike back. Among the most lethal -- Hezbollah -- will tear open Israel's Northern front with unending Katyusha barrages and will definitely begin mounting more drastic operations against the Zionist state, probably including the use of martyrs. Essentially, Tehran will tell Hezbollah to lose its mind on Israel. And it will. If Syria decides to chime in, which it might not, then Israel is in for a very long, bloody and protracted war -- something most Israelis and the Israeli economy won't be able to withstand for too long. This will cause a boost of American Crusader funding for Israel, further jeopardizing American lives as well as further harming the American economy by compelling more borrowing at high interest, driving the nation into yet more debt -- this will benefit Japan and China, since they'll buy up Treasury Bonds like sharks to pay for America's loans to Israel at interest rates so high they'd cause a whore's cherry to pop under the pressure.

That last assessment could lead to a regional war. Possibly a global one.

If the US invades, and let's not discount this possibility as the US has demonstrated its penchant for engaging in wildly stupid behavior. Then that means the resistance in Iraq gets a boost from Iran and Syria (the Syrians are already playing this card) and American forces will deploy to Iran.

Let's do some math. Iraq is 2/3rds the size of Iran. Occupation anyone? Iran, territorially, will be impossible to occupy successfully. I say that with certainty. Bogged down in Afghanistan, and Iraq, to then occupy Iran, is insanity.

Once again, let's not put it past the asshats in office. They just might do it. I'll be the first to begin pouring wine when the Marine body count hits 1,000, which it will in say the first week or two assuming an immediate land invasion without air preparation.

Iran's defenses are up-to-date, their nuclear program is fortified underground beyond the depth penetration of Zionist-American "bunker buster" Earth penetration weapons and the program is redundant. During the 1981 June bombing of the Osirak nuclear facility in Iraq, Iran took notice, and learned a lesson. Israel carried out that attack.

The lesson: Build above ground, only if you can afford to lose the facility.

Essentially, what can the Americans do? Use Israel as a proxy to bomb Iran while placing sanctions on the country. That's really about it. Unless you want to lose Iraq and Afghanistan to gain Iran, which may not be worth it. Or might. What do you think, Feith? Rummy? Wolfewitz? Perle?

C'mon scumbags, you want to play chicken with the Shi'a?

Make me smile, motherfuckers.

Invade Iran. Make my day. The orphans of today, are the martyrs of tomorrow.

As far as Germany and France go, well, let them diddle themselves in the sea of their own irrelevance. The Germans have no contracts in Iraq and France will never get the debt owed to it by the former Ba'athists repaid, so they're both screwed and out of the game. All the major contracts have already gone to American firms. Like I said, beyond being mere American pawns at the negotiating table, concerning Iraq and Iran, the Europeans are pretty much irrelevant.

This concludes Sheikh Sayed's cursory regional assessment, you may now tune back into your own meaningless lives.

posted by qalam on Thursday, May 12, 2005 at 09:44 a.m.

Hezbollah expects an election boost in S. Lebanon in the upcoming cycle, so it's good to see the mu'mineen further expand their role and reach as the bedrock of Lebanese Shi'ism and further fortify their strength as the only legitimate political party capable of operating as a political entity, resistance movement and moral archetype.

If I'm not mistaken, and my information could be outdated, Hezbollah's soccer team -- al-Ahd -- still hasn't had a single member receive a yellow card.

An interesting news item on al-Jazeera I thought to pass along, rather interesting in its own right. If anyone's seen the news as of late, it's rather bleak. The North Koreans are beginning to expand their nuclear program to the estimate of two more warheads, and the Persians look set to begin making preperations to develop their program (that's not bleak, I'm 100% behind this decision) and two suicide operations were carried out in Tikrit, Saddam's old stomping ground.

Mainly Shi'a were killed, apparently queuing up for work as day labor. It'd be great if they concentrated their efforts on the Occupation maggots in the country, and not by indiscriminately assailing the Shi'a. It might win these Hanafi asses some more support among the Shi'a in the South and elsewhere.

Bad aim.

I recently acquired a journal, yes -- an actual book. Taking after Maya, I thought it would be a good idea as I've been essentially keeping a journal online via this space, but nothing feels quite as good as putting fountain pen to good paper and expressing oneself genuinely.

Not that I don't do that here, but less so. I have to mind my p's and q's. I saw Fight Club last night with Maya, and it was quite impressive. It wasn't what I had expected, to say the least -- in a good way. M.'s to spend the day with her family as well as visit an old professor at her old college, whatever else she does, I have no clue.

I, on the other hand, have a review session to attend, and I have to pay a visit to the cashier's office here on campus. In the meantime, I feel that finishing off my knob all over Maya's 501 Latin Verbs would be a lovely way to start off my day.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, May 11, 2005 at 10:17 a.m.

Finally scheduled my Peace Corps interview -- late May. Second to last day of classes, and I'm glad to see the semester ending. The classes, with one exception, have been a dire bore, if not utterly irritating and stifling.

I haven't been keeping up with the news, but I imagine somewhere in the world, politicians are still being assassinated, bombs are still exploding and general unrest pervades like a pepper enema in the lower tract of the global human political and social project.

I've been researching the London School of Economics as a potential institution I might apply to, as my Anglophilia doesn't seem to be receding in the least.

There was a slight delay in the composition of this entry as things began to get "out of hand" with M. as the clouds rather hastily sped by overhead. It was remarkable, actually -- the clouds were by large measure if not altogether perfectly symmetrical and the sky was a near-crystal blue. It was a surreal moment.

I'm still bald(ing) and still aging and these two trends seem to be the pervading leitmotif of my writings and of my thoughts. Though, quite frankly, I'm not at all bothered by the former trend, but it seems society would have it no other way than to see me roused and discontented by it. As I casually joke, "It's nothing a Porsche can't fix."

Any woman who'd have a man for his car, though, is like a walking landmine, waiting to be tripped over. All the more reason to begin dating "the ugly people" -- not quite.

Maya seems fine by it, though who really knows what goes on in her head half the time, surely I don't.

Surely.

Ahem.

I promise to tell you all of the interview, though don't take that to mean I won't write until then, as I may. I promise. However, things are getting hectic once more, hotel reservations have to be made, finals taken, housing issues resolved, etc.

For now, as Leela would put it: "Toodles."

posted by qalam on Monday, May 9, 2005 at 05:27 p.m.

A none-too-nimble fingered German has brought about the demise of my digital camera, and so we're off to pick me up a new one, with his insurance to cover the cost. (Theoretically, anyway -- we'll see how long it takes.)

It started pouring not too long ago either, and I'm happy to add the semester is finally coming to a close. I feel under the weather slightly, I don't know why. It might be because of the camera. (An annoyance.) Or it could be because Maya's leaving. (An unavoidable reality.)

Either way, the remainder of the year I shall spend merely among friends, once again dawning the mantle of "single."

Off to ring the Peace Corps.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, May 4, 2005 at 04:49 p.m.

I lost my mind yesterday.

I went on a bit of a spree with Maya yesterday while letting my mind control the reins of capital, I splurged on the written word. I acquired Kafka's The Trial (a lovely hardback edition, I might add) and The Castle. In a moment of self-indulgence, I let my appetite for the absurd feast.

Kafka was the corollary.

Most of the madness took place at City Lights Bookstore, in the city -- www.citylights.com. (Yes, it's a plug, I'm shameless.) I also came upon and ran off with Baudrillard's Simulacra and Simulation (A post-structrualist gem,) The Illusion of the End and The Spirit of Terrorism. I also absconded with the Complete Poems and Selected Letters of John Keats and Betrand Russel's The History of Western Philosophy. (From the Cynics, Sceptics and Stoics, to Marx.)

Quite the indictment.

I spent a bit of the morning downloading articles by Jean Baudrillard -- a theoretical genius of post-structuralism -- from the website of the college in Europe he's teachting at, thanks to Maya's recommendation. We ate out at some hole-in-the-wall Chinatown restaurant while touring the city yesterday, where I then proceeded to burn myself repeatedly with my food. I had moments where I thought it surely must've been easier had I been a vegan. I got a chance to touch and walk around the TransAmerica Pyramid/Tower which I thought was the dandiest thing ever. I've always seen that spike protruding into space from the SF skyline from the rooftops of various people's apartments or co-ops, and even my own dorm window, yet have always wanted to point at it and say, like a smug tourist: "Yeah, I touched it. I was there."

I only wish I had brought my digital camera, yet all is not lost -- the both of us will surely return to the city to meander and let Maya's Surrealist leanings take their turn at the well within the angular and modern box that houses City Lights.

I've got a paper to write -- a final examination at that -- for my class on Political Theory. Maya's spending the day and a good deal of the night with her parents as she's surely had enough of my personality and its quirks, neuroses and outright small-planet-engulfing flaws. I imagine she left speeding off on her bicycle with sweat forming on her brows whilst thanking all the saints in heaven for having escaped from Fortress Parwaiz with her fingernails still attached.

I don't blame her. She needs to spend time with the folks and probably let them in on the latest details of our evolving relationship, for good or ill -- probably both.

I haven't been keeping up with the news as of late, either. I'm sure not to be disappointed if I scan the beeb and come to find that yet again, some group as blown up a slew of civilians or there's been a shooting or the Israelis have yet again inflamed international outrage by shooting pregnant mothers in the head with live bullets and on and on.

I also, on an aside, acquired a lovely little black and gold fountain pen, and made off with a package of cartidges for it as well. I'd always wanted a fountain pen, and now I finally have one. Maya's pen I suppose set the momentum at good pace and the incentive was increased when I pondered on the idea for a little while longer.

I have yet to book a hotel reservation for my mom and seeing as my phone is about as dead as Terri Schiavo rigid corpse, I fear I'll have to wait until tomorrow to actually reserve the room over the graduation/holiday period.

Happy May Day everyone, I feel a shit coming on.

posted by qalam on Sunday, May 1, 2005 at 12:14 p.m.

Naked; just got out of the shower -- happy birthday me. Growing older has inspired in me the hope that my hair follicles might possibly return, but I think that might be hoping for too much.

I'm 23, and I'm almost done with college. A new life-stage awaits me, and I'm happy to report that I feel confident in the life-skills and education that I've acquired to meet all but the most ass-stretching of challenges. I spent more time with Maya today, and came upon two works which called to me. One was a collection of English essays, and another a compendium of British philosophical work ranging from Bacon, to Locke, to Hume. All were purchased at just over seven dollars, and they look set to be a lovely addition to my already sizeable collection of literature.

The matter of which among all these works to take with me as leisure reading in the Peace Corps, is another matter.

Speaking of which, I got a call today while in a restuarant on Telegraph (La Fiesta -- Maya was treating me to a birthday lunch) from Ed T., head of the LA Peace Corps office asking for clarification concerning my application vis-a-vis mailing addresses and other general questions pertaining to my geographic location at present and in the immediate future. He mentioned that I'd be going through the SF Office of the Peace Corps, and I made it clear to him that it was already what I had in mind. Thursday was the time he felt would be best suited to my giving the SF bloke a ring over my application and its progress, possibly in the interest of arranging interviews and getting that ball in motion.

All else is as articulated in earlier posts. Maya's still going to France, Autumn's going to NYC, and I'll be going to god-only-knows-where.

On an aside, -- yet still holding steadfast to the birthday theme which at this point is less of a theme and more of a cameo appearance -- my aunt and two uncles called me to wish me a happy birthday, and something tells me the asses were in league with each other. One aunt calls me, then a few hours later, an uncle, followed by over the course of the evening, the remaining uncle calling me and passing on his regards and so forth.

How hollow. Atleast they took the time though, seeing as minus the aunt, I haven't heard from either uncle in atleast two years. That makes hearing from them on such a conspicuous occasion all the more revealing.

At any rate, I can hear Maya's soft breath ebbing and flowing as she descends deeper into sleep, so with that -- and seeing as this post is fucking long enough as it is -- I'll be joining her.

Night.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, April 26, 2005 at 10:06 p.m.

Just got the final prompt (exam) from a GSI via email -- 10-15 pages. Know what that really means? Ten pages. I haven't updated in a good long while, I've been spending as much time as humanly possible with Maya before she permanently moves to France. (It looks set to be that way -- "50/50.")

I've completed my Peace Corps application, and expect to hear from them in ten days, roughly. (Their timeline.)

Semester seems veering toward an end, and I can't say it's come all too soon. It seems my time at Cal seems veering toward an end, as well. I smell burning rubber. One more semester to go, and then it's off to wherever. For some reason, my last thought as I end this post has to do with showing Maya some of my poetry.

Off to push a small seal out of my ass.

posted by qalam on Monday, April 25, 2005 at 10:47 a.m.

I woke up at 4:48 a.m. It is now 4:58 a.m., as I write this.

Precisely ten minutes have passed, when I woke up from the worst nightmare that I have ever had not involving the immediate bodily death of my person.

I never thought my "issue" would ever cause me to lose sleep, and now it has. I had a nightmare, where M., my current love, cheated on me with another person in one of my classes whom we both know as a general acquaintance.

I don't know if I should relate this to her, but I probably will. My tempo of breath has now returned to a normal rate. Of all the details I recall vividly, I feel I can relate a construction of the nightmare adequately.

It was in the first few moments of a random and generic class being held in one of the typical small auditoriums dotting the campus. Students were adjusting themselves in their seats; arranging papers and exchanging conversation. Out of the corner of my eye, a strange sight caught my attention. It was M. with said person, holding hands intimately, seating themselves in the front row, off to the left side where the chairs are arranged in rows of three.

I think the best description that could be given of my emotion in that instance, was one of confusion.

That emotion immediately passed on, as the gravity and urgency of the situation riddled my nerves like bullets. I moved myself from the rear of the class, to a forward position, right of the two of them. Then I changed my seat again, to one immediately behind them.

And then the worst of it came.

I asked M. what was going on, in colorful terms. She said she'd been doing this for a "few months." I asked her why, and was only greeted with a cheerful, almost giddy smile. I turned to our mutual acquaintance, and asked him if he knew M. was in a relationship with me, and he said he knew. They were both smiling at me. M. had an expression of eerie happiness on her face, and the mutual acquaintance seemed genuinely detached, emotionally, from what was unfolding in my line of questioning. He was very matter-of-fact, and this made me irate.

As I was laying in bed not too long ago, right next to M., I distinctly felt my throat tighten at this point. My dream went on, as I changed my seat back to my previous position.

Then things took a turn for the worst, arguably. (In my dream, the worst had already happened.) I reached into my satchel, and pulled out, of all things -- my black, military specification, Springfield Armouries, .45 caliber pistol. I remember in my dream, even now, checking the pistol for ammunition.

It was loaded. Seven rounds. One was already chambered. The safety was off.

Things proceeded at this point, as you might well imagine, from worst to tragic, arguably.

I emptied my magazine from across the aisle, instantly killing both of them. I believe they turned and looked at me with glee, and no fear, and that's what did it for me. As though they would die happy. My fire was at first calibrated, it dispatched them both immediately, and then became indiscriminate spraying.

I turned the gun on myself.

I woke up.

In all of my previous relationships with individuals whose fidelity and sincerity I questioned, I never experienced a nightmare. Let alone one compelling me to get up out of bed, and go take a piss to walk it off. This nightmare was brutal in its emotional toll on me, and savage in content. It's now 5:06p.m. as I finish this entry on M.'s iBook, sitting here on her desk-chair, nude.

I don't think I can overemphasize the realism and gravity of this nightmare, in both content and in terms of the infrequency of my nightmares, altogether. I never have dreams, and have only had nightmares in sporadic periods that can be measured in terms of years. This is the first nightmare I've had in years, and I don't say that lightly or without consideration. It's not that I've fogotten any of them, I always remember them. I don't think I'll be getting any more sleep throughout the duration of the early morning/night.

I don't know whether to tell M., of this or simply refer her to the blog where I won't have to go through pains of retelling a story that has already exhausted much of my nerve and effort merely to write about. I've never had a signal this strong transmitted from my unconscious to my conscious mind. One signal that not merely disrupted sleep, but has destroyed any possibility of me re-acquiring that precious commodity and utilizing it for the rest of the early morning.

Welcome to my mind.

posted by qalam on Saturday, April 23, 2005 at 04:40 a.m.

I know finals aren't nearing, but I sense a certain tension growing between my balls and my asshole, and it's not a prostate problem.

I haven't written as of late, as regular readers know I've been sleeping over at M's and spending most if not all of my free time with her. I met her mother the other day, as I decided to skip my DeCal course. They were going to show some Moore flick, "Bowling for...(use your imagination)" and I felt the time would be better spent, more enjoyably spent, by catching the AC down to Bancroft and meeting up with Maya near a music store. (Not quite, you see they peddle musical instruments, and I don't know how to play anything beyond my one-hole'd flute)

Maya's mums was inside grinding away some piece on the piano, whereafter in conversation Maya exhorted something out of context (blatantly): "Those distinctions are arbitrary!" and proceeded to pull out her copy of Nietzsche's Genealogy and began reading, perhaps to prove some point.

Peace Corps application is nearly done, the three recommendations should be done by now, as they're online, though I haven't checked to see.

We three wound up having dinner a little later in Le Chateau, and then went out to see Hours for/of Jerome at the Pacific Film Archive. Part I was far better than Part II, without doubt.

Off to poo.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, April 20, 2005 at 10:42 a.m.

I'm beginning to think of Le Chateau as more of a home than the dorm I'm supposed to be living in. I walked in this morning, after discussion section only to be greeted by foreign and strange sights and sounds. The eerily echoed call of a jungle macaw just resonated off the walls -- strange, new, yet at once familiar walls...

I never thought I'd like The Beatles, or Simon and Garfunkel... but I do. (They sound alike, so perhaps my affinity for the former is bleeding onto the latter.)

I just appropriated "Why Don't We Do It In The Road" along with "Blue Jay Way" via i2hub.com. Good people, those nebbishes. There's something seductive and entrancing about Blue Jay Way.

At any rate, my cell's charging after having been compelled to operate without a decent charge for a few days on end. My argeela has been relocated to Le Chateau and will remain there until the end of the semester, and into early Summer, possibly.

posted by qalam on Monday, April 18, 2005 at 11:23 a.m.

All that remains of my Peace Corps application is the essay section. Once that's completed, then transcripts, fingerprints and medical information would be forwarded to the Peace Corps. Maya tells me there's a Kaiser in Oakland, but it's been ages since I walked into a hospital for a medical check, and last I checked I'm not a Kaiser plan member.

There's something to email mums about.

I've been smoking and lounging with Maya so often I'm surprised she hasn't gotten an infection by now, due to it. Just got a call from Gina wondering about the Pakistani nuclear program, I mentioned A.Q. Khan and she went on about the nuclear device simulator on the FAS website. I, naturally a fan of such things, visited and ran the simulation.

Well, it's almost 2pm, off to meet Maya at Sproul.

posted by qalam on Saturday, April 16, 2005 at 01:52 p.m.

I'm consuming as much of Maya's time as humanly possible. Since the end of Spring Break, I think I've slept in my own dorm bed, perhaps three or four times. I've left my hookah at her place as of a few days ago, and it rests there comfortably.

I've made it my point to walk Maya to as many of her classes as possible, and to be there to greet her afterwards -- including her two classes at the YWCA. Perhaps I shouldn't say that I've made it "my point" to do so, rather, it's come naturally as I devote more and more of myself to her.

I'm really quite excited about joining the Peace Corps. With each moment that passes, I'm drawn closer to leaving the country, and there are but a handful of people I would truly miss. Papers have yet to be written, innoculations have yet to be taken, farewells have yet to be bid.

posted by qalam on Friday, April 15, 2005 at 11:11 a.m.

After having consumed yet another yogurt-covered granola food item that comes in one of those plastic containers (cannisters, really) that smoothies come in, I feel sufficiently prepared to tackle section.

It seems a union has called on service workers to go on strike, as they've been picketing and otherwise milling around the entrance to Sproul's upper plaza. ("Upper Sproul.") According to Professor K., these people have been working without a contract since January, and have come to be fed up by it.

I don't blame them. Should, according to Professor K., "job action" escalate to the hurling of Molotov cocktails and other assorted improvised incendiaries against police vehicles or -- heaven forbid -- the police themselves, then I'll be the first to snap pictures of it and blog it up. Wait, did I say police? I meant to say para-military gunmen hired by the state apparatus to ensure "lawrenorder" in this little Bantustan we call Upper Sproul. You call them police, but in truth, they're just your friendly local...

gunmen.

I'm currently in the midst of my Peace Corps application (online) and it's coming along nicely. My Phase I registration for Fall has come and gone and I've registered for a taste of Comparative Analyses of Industrialized Democracies taught by a Professor who shall remain nameless.

I'm tempted to take what Maya's taking now, over the Fall: History of Political Theory. I think I need a review of my Marx, Hegel, Kant, Rousseau, Weber inter alia, as I've been focusing too much on the periphery of political science -- development, application, non-traditional theory -- and I think, seeing as I'll only spend one more semester here at Berkeley, a return to my ideological roots is warranted.

Off to twiddle my thumbs.

posted by qalam on Thursday, April 14, 2005 at 02:13 p.m.

On the long list of people to be shot when I take over the world as Khalif, are one or two names which have to do with American attempts to overthrow the Iranian regime seated currently. The list of people who will be hung by their big toes, with piano wire from the trees of my choosing, are as follows: Kenan Makiya, Daniel Pipes, Bernard Lewis, Fouad Ajami, Judith Miller and Dennis Ross.

Let me juxtapose two things for you, admired reader:

"US funds 'to back Iran Democracy'" and "It's not an attempt to decide somebody else's internal affairs."

Seem slightly incongruent? It should. The former is the title of a BBC news item and the latter a statement made by Richard "Ivan the Imperialist" Boucher, a State Department spokesman.

The US has now openly stated it will fund Iranian opposition with the implicit aim of toppling the theocratic regime. This activity on the part of the fourth head of the Great Satan has numerous ramifications. Now that it's open knowledge, the Americans must feel confident that their mechanisms for overthrowing the regime are firmly in place, otherwise why reveal this? They are confident that their aim will be met with success, so much so that it doesn't bother them in the least that now the Iranian regime officially knows what the coup-plotting asshats of the Bush administration are up to.

This is a great propaganda coup for the Iranian regime, as this opens the floodgates for more roundups and seizures in the name of protecting the national security of Iran. As it can be assumed that any pro-American anti-Iranian movement in the country is happily and willingly under the American economic and hegemonic umbrella, and as a result, any new wave of arrests or mass detentions can be carried out with near-impunity as it can now be done as a defense of the nation under the banner of this newly released piece of information.

Hopefully, the Iranians are smart enough not to be baited by this Western trick and stratagem, as engaging in mass detentions and arrests will only fuel any potential revolutionary element, instead, Iran must adopt the Syrian model.

Infiltration.

Once the Iranian regime -- assuming it hasn't already -- infiltrated all of the major pro-American stooge movements of donkey Western imperialism, it can begin an operation of counter-revolution by systematically buying off or exterminating key elements of pro-American opposition.

This idea should be implemented with the care and skill of a precision surgical method. Once all of the major movements have been bought off or its leaders executed, the subsequent pervading sense of distrust among the pro-American movements will be such as to paralyze any new movements from forming.

This has been the Syrian model, and it has been used to effectively neutralize pro-American movements in the country for decades. It would be wise for the Iranians to adopt a similar model of political and social counter-insurgency to counter American endeavors on the same note, level and intensity on which the Americans launch them. In doing so, no bounds are overstepped.

This counter-revolutionary model should be embraced so that any meddling and corrupt Western power, America for example, deciding to overthrow a regime such as the one seated in Tehran as I write this, will find their measures of aggression, thwarted.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, April 12, 2005 at 02:08 p.m.

My two major papers now having been written means I can ride easy until the end of the semester. Come finals I'll wind up venting my frustration by scrawling more Arabic on Maya's wall with her dead grandfather's sharpie marker. Apparently that was but one of many items she looted, including a duffel bag filled with VHS tapes of old movies, she deems to be classics. Mostly musicals, perhaps they hold sentimental value.

I wound up being late to discussion section after having forgotten I was going to a discussion section and not a lecture, so I had to walk my sorry ass back from the VLSB to Wheeler. It was uphill, woe. I also wound up being late because my fingers couldn't stop dancing on Maya's nether regions, which, ofcourse caused her no alarm concerning classroom punctuality as she had other thoughts and sensations consuming her. I on the other hand, being the most responsible of the two of us, decided that class does matter.

Really. It does.

I'm not just saying that.

I swear.

I mean, if I were a girl, I wouldn't mind being stroked if it meant missing class, just once.

I wound up using the nape of Maya's neck as canvas this morning, as I skillfully deployed the sharpie marker to invoke a rather stunning rendition of "God is great." I plan on using the rest of her to further expand on my practice of Arabic script, ya'allah ya habibi. Right there, her dowry would shoot up to an extra five camels and a well.

Food.

posted by qalam on Monday, April 11, 2005 at 12:08 p.m.

I was going to lounge about with Elena last night, alas she has to contend with exams this week and has therefore devoted her time exclusively to studying for them in lieu of passing time with the much more amusing Qalam and his travelling hookah.

I woke up yesterday at 2:30pm and wound up writing a much anticipated paper for my IAS class, entitled "Oppression and Transformation: The Emergence of Hezbollah" running about eight pages, not counting the notes section. I chronicled the Lebanese civil war; the rise of AMAL; the question of the Palestinians; addressed the factionalism and its respective exponents; the effect of the 1979 Revolution in Iran and the 1982 invasion of the South by the Israelis, all to lay the groundwork for crafting a historical account of the birth, ideology, aims, organizing principle up to the modern day, of my only and favorite socio-religious political party.

Hezbollah.

Beyond being a brilliant and insightful analysis, a measure of effort was taken in preventing my fawning from overcoming the need to maintain a semblance of objectivity. I failed, but I disguised it so heart-throbbingly well. I went into some detail, as well. I integrated Syrian and Persian as well as French and Israeli involvement and nicely elucidated which movements were in whose pockets.

After penning ("typing" sounds so detached) that magnificent piece of historical and social analysis (really, it was magnificent) I decided to make a run for "the Den" as it's the only place that was open when I finished my piece, around 7pm'ish. Having returned and consumed my guilt food consisting of Famous Amos cookies, two fruit salads, sunflower seeds and some BBQ chips and some ice cream (Qalam knows he has fine dining skills,) I got a call from Steve relating a rather impertinent yet intriguing enough piece of information.

There was a co-op party taking place at Castro co-op, and I along with Kevin, Steve insisted, should be in attendance. Why? Because there were going to be, according to Steve, "An abundant a la carte of Berkeley's easiest bitches present. Pack rubber."

"Spoken like a man on a mission," I chided. He also made mention of "asses" and "booze" but I can't recall his exact words, probably because I was busily correcting his sexist and mysoginist views of women. Naturally, he and I succumbed to laughter upon hearing my artful defense of the worth and value intrinsic to women. I think I got through the better half of it before I broke beneath the weight of my own absurd arguments. He said I was "full of shit," and I said I agreed, but that I sounded nice, and aesthetics matter. He conceded, and so we left for the party with Kevin in tote.

We showed up, and met Jeremy and two of his female cohorts who had lovely and scandalous little bodies on them. I'm a good man, a loyal man, so when I felt the sin rising in my flesh, I looked away and went about consorting with Kevin about the power of the international Zionist. Jeremy was this black bloke who stood about a hundred feet tall and probably packed a snake that he used on women like a baseball bat. Throughout the time I spent at the party, he enjoyed himself thoroughly, clearly riding on the stereotype.

You know, some stereoypes are good.

The temperature in the co-op, and it was a big place, must've been in the mid 90's, there were pimps and hookers everywhere who were doing a good job of masquerading as regular Cal students at a party. I saw more exposed flesh than I ever care to see again. Just standing there seeing all of it, made me feel disloyal. Steve was getting plastered and Kevin and I not being the most gyration-oriented of people didn't dance, feeling content to watch others engage in the social courting ritual.

I saw plenty of uberexposed women and had flashes of light bursting across my eyes of Qur'anic text concerning moderation and chastity. This happened throughout the night, making "schwoo, schwoo" sounds as they flashed. I felt like I was caught in the middle of the Taliban's worst nightmare, and had but one morality rod (beating stick) to make of all these whores, housewives. I felt besieged, and it was so crowded I had one hooker after another grinding against me trying to pass by either to leave and smoke outside or do something else, as I can't imagine anyone beyond Maya grinding up against me just for the fun and friction of it, though she being part and parcel no better than the bedraggled lot of hookers festooning this co-op like the medals on the chest of a third-world African general.

If only they could've airlifted a copy of the Qur'an a little larger than the square-footage of this co-op and dropped it on the place. Where's the wrath of god when you need it? He did it with Soddom and Gomorrah, what's wrong with nailing Castro co-op?

I enjoyed the party vibe though, it was lovely despite it being a grindfest. It seems a common and pervading Western lie to assert that parties in this culture are meant for people simply to enjoy as a social event. In truth, men go there to meet people to have sex with, and women much the same. That was certainly the case yesterday evening.

Steve, Kevin and I retired after Steve had imbibed a sufficient amount of alcohol to make him forget than he probably just contracted fifteen STDs. We hit up a pizza joint and wound down at Kevin's apartment afterwards.

I have another paper to write. The prompt indicates that ten pages, approximately, are all that's required. Know what that means? It means this crackpot "professor" gets eight pages. Off to jerk the ego, adieu.

posted by qalam on Sunday, April 10, 2005 at 10:13 a.m.

A few weeks remain of the semester and it's been raining heavily these last few days. I'll be going over to Elena's to fire up the hookah and to rip a cd she has that has incredible vocals on it -- mindblowing stuff. Maya left with her parent and sister today and I moved a few books, a guitar case and a blanket, if I remember correctly.

I felt like a pure lump of crap when her mom asked me to translate all the Arabic I painted on Maya's wall. I told them it was "offensive political rhetoric" and when I finished, they got a kick out of it. I mentioned al-Zarqawi, Bin Laden and an extremely lovely rendition of the shuhada, among other things. Ofcourse, I painted it in green paint, naturally.

I already miss Maya. (She made an incredible sandwich for me as breakfast: some hummus, onions, tomato slices, spinach leaf in two slices of wheat bread. It was exceptional. Earlier she prepared Chinese Kale (sp?) with tofu. Delicious as sin without the guilt)

Two papers to write over the weekend, luckily Maya will be away so I don't have to balance her and the paper-writing.

posted by qalam on Friday, April 8, 2005 at 04:48 p.m.

It's pouring, and I just finished reviewing the tax-deferred annuities and SimpleStart IRA's offered by fidelity on the advice of a friend of mine, I think I just might start one up since the minimum is just two-hundred dollars, though I still need to read up some more on annuities, and how they work.

I'll be writing two papers over this weekend as M. will be out of town (funeral service) so things fit nicely together in terms of using my time to its maximum utility.

I've found that Berkeley's taking its toll on me. I was perched atop the toilet this morning and my thoughts were consumed by arguments as to why the Regulation school of neo-Marxist thought adequately answered the question of why revolutions didn't take place. My life would be so much simpler if I were one of those types content to play video games ad nauseum and to call that an existence.

I envy the blunt, sometimes.

posted by qalam on Thursday, April 7, 2005 at 09:23 a.m.

Bless your soul Maya, for sending me USD$0.25. Having friends? It's worth twenty-five cents. Having someone to slosh semen in? That could be worth more. Fidelity?

Priceless.

I had lunch with Elena again -- Ph.D cand. Slavic Studies -- at Pat Brown's Grill, and it went splendidly. I managed to offend her no less than, by her count, 27 times. I thought it was a fairly conservative run of the numbers, and she finally caved that it was probably much higher and also made it clear, on an aside, that "trimming" prevents the permanent settlement of her crotch by roving bands of pygmies.

Priceless.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, April 6, 2005 at 04:40 p.m.

Entries becoming more sporadic, spending more time with newly acquired female friend Maya, consuming my calendar and hers like a malignant ass tumor.

Mother coming down to see me "walk" soon, must acquire a ticket for her.

I feel like passing a small fixed wing aircraft out of my ass, and it's time I re-charged the cell phone. Things are getting hectic.

More later, maybe.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, April 5, 2005 at 02:06 p.m.

Slept over at M.'s since Friday so I've been unable to update the blog and bless you all with the vitriol you all rightly deserve coughed at you. That being said, I've decided to join the Peace Corps and hold off on graduate plans until the second year of my service overseas, I know, I'm being redundant telling all of you this.

Now that I've returned to my dorm I find I'm unable to access any of my email accounts due to server problems. (I know, I think it's the Zionists, too.) I have to begin registering for Fall classes soon and conclude my last semester here at Berkeley while I'm sure M. will be in Bordeaux feasting on French wine and men. (She denies it, but it's true. We all know it is.)

Back to scratching my ass.

posted by qalam on Monday, April 4, 2005 at 12:23 p.m.

Paul Wolfowitz, a man whose own friends wouldn't their back on for fear of having a knife put through it and whose enemies only wish they had better telescopic sights, has just been confirmed as the head of the World Bank.

This can't be happening.

Wolfowitz was the chief architect, principal planner and most fervent exponent of the invasion of Iraq and the ousting of the Hussein regime. He's complicit in the deception of the people of the world concerning the rationale and evidence predicating military force. He is a neo-conservative of the most heartless and cold stripe and has now been handed over the reins of an entity which is responsible for the debt management and fiscal control of most of the world's poorest and powerless countries.

If anyone can think of a more important stage for this macabre display of sadism writ large to be used as an altar for this man's mad imperialist visions of hegemonic economic and political domination of weak states, do please speak up.

I for one, am drawing blanks.

This is just another logical act, to me, of a logical mind. One act none too dissimilar from placing George W. Bush as the head of the physics program at MIT, or Rumsfeld at the head of an ethics commission.

The neo-Keynesian institutional role entities such as the IMF and World Bank play are inextricably linked to their political ideologies, and those ideologies are ones deeply rooted in ensuring the continual expansion of Western political and by corollary, social control. This has always been an implicit creed of such institutions, at times when global inter-political relations have been at ease, or in times of transnational in extremis aggression. Why do I say this?

One simple reason. These have always been Western institutions.

So perhaps it is a fitting denouement to this era of hyper-aggression that the very seat of fiscal control and foreign debt management on the institutional level has now been irrevokably tainted and the path of neo-liberal thought and amenable relations among states inexorably altered to follow a path of perennial global instability and mistrust.

A new era has been heralded, and just when I was thinking the fascist Bush junta and its economic hitmen could've done their worst damage, already. Things were worse, and now, to employ a term used sparingly in political science, things have just gotten "worser."

posted by qalam on Thursday, March 31, 2005 at 05:41 p.m.

Happy Birthday Blog!!! (+1 day) My baby just turned two years old! :)

posted by qalam on Thursday, March 31, 2005 at 10:31 a.m.

Apologies to those of you who read this blog regularly, for the delay. I've been doing a lot of catching up in terms of readings and have been suffering from a recurring bout of malaise pulling me away from penning entries.

Sproul Plaza has been absolutely buzzing the last few days as people slowly migrate back to Berkeley from wherever their travels and ventures led them. There was a demonstration by Falun Dafa supporters at the steps of Sproul and it looked set to continue after I left (seeing as things revolve around me. :)) complete with two officials dressed as PRC Military Police in rather convincing stationary poses of displeasure wielding batons on what were apparently two people playing the role of victims. One was in a cage and the other bound by the hands in a contraption that looked like it could be used in real life. That's the scene to greet you upon walking through Sproul Plaza. As usual, there was far too much pamphleteering by activists of myriad social causes and they truly taxed my ability to ignore all of them. Zig-zagging takes effort. I wound up collecting one or two pamphlets from these people as contingency planning should my ass begin itching on the way to Barrows or Wheeler.

A little secret has been kept from me on the part of GBC (Golden Bear Cafe) as to the location of their most appetizing mesquite BBQ chips. One would normally find average BBQ chips in front of the cashiers, accompanying other items such as beef jery inter alia, but today... today I unearthed a marvelous gem of a secret. Near the donut stand, to the right of the coffee rigs, there were to be had by my eyes the heavenly sight of, count them: not one, but TWO stands devoted simply to that one item -- Lays kettle cooked mesquite chips.

It was like seeing an old friend. I was both overwhelmed by emotion yet also uncertain as to if this were even really happening.

I pinched myself, 'twas true.

Other news, a ghastly paper assignment was handed out today by some imbecile lackey resembling a professor of mine. Seven pages minimum, I'll do eight for good measure and karma points. The prompt emphasized the requirement for actual library research -- no internet sources, nothing of the sort. So I, naturally, will peruse my collection of books sound asleep on my table and choose a few to cite in order to avoid enduring the painstaking business of actual work.

I'm not lazy, but I'm not about to walk through intense heat in the aim of gracing Doe library with my resplendence simply for a meager soon-to-exist eight page paper.

For a Ph.D thesis, I might go to a library...

Maybe.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 29, 2005 at 01:13 p.m.

I had a wonderful night to close off my Spring Break. An old high school friend, Jairo, came by and collected me around 8pm and up until I few minutes ago, we made quite the journey around local Orange County haunts.

We cruised Broadway in Santa Ana seeing if Jairo could find any hookers. (He'd never pick one up, nor would I, but it's interesting to see if you can spot them. They're not too hard, in all I'd say I spotted two or three.)

Afterwards we visited "The Block" at Orange, which was replete with twelve year-olds dressed like nymphos and their mothers seemingly in an endless contest with their daughters' status. It was far too crowded, as well.

We, in a fit of hunger, went to a Chipotle where I left with the distinct impression that the girl at the register really liked Jairo. I advised him to return to the Chipotle. (We ordered it to-go.) He did, and got her number. Oh yes, I call them so well, don't I?

Afterwards, we hit the PCH and wound up at "The Pier" in Huntington Beach, and we took a nice long stroll down the boardwalks, and it resembled The Block, except wealthier. It's a shame they put a Ruby's at the end of what would otherwise be a lovely pier, n'est pas?

By the time all of you read this, I should be back in Berkeley or well on my way.

posted by qalam on Saturday, March 26, 2005 at 10:45 p.m.

This is my last day in the area, and I can't wait to leave. I should've booked my flight for today, rather than having booked it for tomorrow. I thought I'd have more going on, but I really don't. Is this what awaits me after I graduate? I think I might leave the country no more than a month or two after I graduate, since I've decided to focus my effort on the Peace Corps and other NGO's...

posted by qalam on Saturday, March 26, 2005 at 11:14 a.m.

The strangest thing happened last night. I was holding the neck of my argila, puffing misty wisdom while viewing the nightly BBC World programme. The anchor -- an eye-catching British woman with silky blond hair and a smart London accent who reminded me of the actress that played the Angel Jibreel in the movie Constantine -- was interviewing the Kyrgyz ambassador to the US and Canada concerning recent revolutionary protests by pro-democracy elements in the country. He mentioned that the situation was under control, he echoed sentiments that many expected, he spoke of his country's longstanding journey toward democratic principles... his visage was one which evoked the stern and firm countenance carried by other regional post-bloc leaders -- he never smiled, he chose his words carefully however lapsing into momentary rambling fits which struck me as attempts to exercise his command of English with, what better, the fine specimen of English womanhood sitting next to him.

Here's the strange thing.

I woke up this morning, booted up, pointed my browser at the Beeb and it read as follows: "Protestors oust Kyrgyz Government." followed by in smaller case, "The opposition... overrunning the palace... the capital Bishkek..." and I knew, I had been lied to. The Kyrgyz ambassador lied to the world, and I personally expected more from a post-Soviet Bloc apparatchik giving an interview to Western media.

It seems while the US has been focusing on how the Christian right is trying, once again, to circumvent or bypass the judiciary in order to politicize and advance their agenda, to make political capital of it, and to exploit this pour soul Shiavo -- the world has been moving on. While the gimptard President and his gimptard brother Jebb try to kidnap Schiavo all the while showing nothing but disrespect for the legal system, again, the world has moved on.

What recently happened in Kyrgyzstan clearly demonstrates that any political movement that emerges in a country must be a genuine expression of the popular will. It must be a manifestation of the people's desire to see change. This is the lesson Bush has never learned. One doesn't impose systems of belief upon people, one can only endeavor to change minds, and to stoke embers in the hearts of the disenfranchised. Revolution must be a natural progression rooted in the popular experience, and the fruit of common struggle. To use force in that aim is to court peril, folly and downfall. America courts precisely that, and embraces it.

"The more I study the world, the more I realize the
inability of brute force to create anything durable."

Napoleon I

posted by qalam on Thursday, March 24, 2005 at 01:34 p.m.

The Lali just invited me to a wine tasting at the unrelenting insistence of Heather the Sacrifice, a wine tasting that I won't be attending due to my sorry state at the moment.

Carlessness. (It's a word, now.)

See, that's another problem with Southern California. Everything is so spread out and disconnected, you really need a car just to get to somewhere "close." This isn't the case with the Bay Area. There's effective transport, (BART) and everything is of such a communal design that -- even as I think about it -- there's nothing I couldn't get that I needed that was beyond simple walking distance.

It's the very layout of the place here, that's bothersome. It's a sign of wealth, I suppose. "Hey, look at us!" they yell, "We have to get into our Hummers just to cross the street!!" they finish their boast. Perhaps that's it. It's about wealth. That certainly seems to be the implication. I don't know, perhaps it's the time I've spent at Berkeley which compels me to uncover the explicit or implicit class statement in everything.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 23, 2005 at 01:10 p.m.

Another school shooting broke out on some Indian reservation, eight dead, a few more than that injured, and it's pretty sad. There's also a brouhaha brewing (alliteration, anyone?) concerning the deliberate killing of Terri Schiavo, some crippled lady whose husband decided to pull the tube, as it were -- the feeding tube, anyway.

I don't know which of these two is the greater tragedy, whether I want more strawberry yogurt of which I've already had too much, or the fact that I would have to battle my internal intertia of non-movement, in order to obtain any.

I've been besotted by enough bad news. Just the other day the talking box told me some surfer in Australia was literally bitten in half by either a white or a tiger shark.

What a treasure to know.

As far as the Schiavo affair goes, if she wants to kill herself, I say they somehow communicate this option to her by hiring a bunch of Japanese tech people to figure out how to develop a term for "You can kill youself if you want." in disabledese. It's revolting to see how a personal and moral issue has become politicized by the scum media who then handed the torch of moral recklessness over to the politicians who wasted no time in taking a private matter and turning it into a God vs. The United States battle royale.

This is the civilized American discourse concerning this poor soul. Then again, this is also the same sort of society where a school shooting can take place and before the evening news it's not even a headline, but on the third bar below the news of a possibly genetically modified dung beatle.

posted by qalam on Monday, March 21, 2005 at 11:15 p.m.

Today marks the beginning of Spring Break. I experienced reading Vogue magazine vicariously on the flight down while being read flight safety instructions by Jet Blue's latest foreign acquisition -- a flight attendant named, yes, "Pascal." On the former note, she was a UC Berkeley student off for Spring Break, much like myself, perusing the fine literary gems offered by Vogue, and on the latter note, well, it took him (poor "Pascal,") a few tries to figure out we were heading toward "Long Beach Airport... California." He also at the very end of the flight bid us all "au revoir."

He was a short build of a man and most likely gay. He had those gay happy smiley lips which you'd spot for being gay a mile away but have difficulty describing. Trust me, you know what I'm talking about. He also seemed to be one of those naturally charming sorts as he ambled up and down the aisle collecting refuse and offering sodas. The type of charm which almost beset a straight man with a certain existential disappointment for having not been born gay. One could almost picture skipping through tulip fields holding his hand au naturel whilst gasping at tender pleasures when at rest with only a horizon of tulips offering but the most token of shade and the clouds bestowing the only privacy.

Homosexual imagery aside, I'm digressing.

I wound up finally landing, and being picked up by Lali and Heather. Enter, Heather. A seemingly decent enough sort, though I, not one easily beguiled, simply decided to think the worst of her, she was after all au mieux with a one Jacob, who's known for his, shall we say, effiminate leanings. She also, unsuprisingly, sported a tattoo on the arch of her back bearing in some Asian language most probably Japanese to my eye, a pictogram depicting "Sacrifice." amidst all the lines and dashes which compose Japanese. Had the tattoo been tribal in design (not that Japanese is a far cry) she would've surely been written off as yet another OCCC, Orange County Cultural Casualty. Instead of her being written off as such as the heading of a chapter in my mind, she was merely footnoted. After all, it *wasn't* tribal, but the tattoo *was* Japanese. It's not quite an excuse, but it's not short of an accusation, either.

Sacrifice of what, and more precisely whom, remains an unanswered question.

I wound up spending time with Lali and finally leaving, she dropped me off at my place and not too soon after some friends came 'round to collect me as we had arrangements to go to yet another friend's home and enjoy each others' company afloat in swirls of hookah smoke. Which brings me to the final few lines of this entry. I enjoyed the session, and as I finish penning this entry, it's quite late, almost 4:00am in the morning.

Off to bed (well, off to couch, anyway) to arise tomorrow and greet an uneventful day in what is already becoming an old story of a new experience -- Qalam's Spring Break, 2005.

Oh yeah. Bring it, son. Bring it.

posted by qalam on Monday, March 21, 2005 at 03:23 a.m.

Just picked up some kebab and egg rolls (five egg rolls) along with a watermelon Arizona drink and some strawberry boba tea (which was crap, I should've stuck with the Thai tea and boba). I also picked up a mesh bristled brush to clean my hookah out with, as I think I need one.

... and, I also did something else...

I rented out my graduation cap and gown. I know, fucking Christ, the time is nigh upon me, and the abyss grows ever wider. I never thought the day would come. (Well, I did, but it was always uncertain and enshrouded by the fog which comes from predicting the future.) And here I am, with the hour nearly struck, and the bell seems to be tolling for me.

I'm about to walk in the commencement graduation ceremony, this is unreal. It hit me, when I was walking out of the ASUC with the cap and gown rental in its case...

"God, I'm about to leave Berkeley. I'm about to graduate. I don't wanna go mommy, please don't make me go."

My heart went up my throat and my last remaining undescended testicle dropped when I finally concluded that emotional jerk-response with:

"I'm about to graduate from Berkeley. But I don't want to leave. I want to stay, and if I have to leave, I want to come back."

posted by qalam on Friday, March 18, 2005 at 01:24 p.m.

I've been hacking it up like a motherfucker, these last few days. (roughly a week) The coughing has been fairly persistent and I think it's because of an infection (plague, anyone?) since the crap that comes up is yellowish. Attractive, huh?

It evokes a feeling of being dropped to one's knees in a trench, face down in wet and body-part littered mud with rain pouring down on you, being choked by German chlorine gas attacks in some field in Flanders during WWI.

Spring Break is next week, thank god... and arrangements have been made, oh' yes, arrangements have been made... it'll be a week long and I can return to the hellhole from which I had previously escaped. Now, only to be enshrouded within the Orange Curtain, once more. I know, it makes one feel the need to stock heavy on ammunition.

Had a mid-term yesterday, and sodomized it. Go me.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 16, 2005 at 10:10 a.m.

Thankfully, the paper was completed yesterday without any hitch. Ten dry pages, and ten more for the same class in good time. Midterm tomorrow, I'll have to pour over dozens of pages of notes, back and front, tonight to glean what little pearls of wisdom I can.

Just got back from the ASUC, perusing their collection of graduation caps and gowns, and decided on a nice pair, however the tassels bear a "2004" metal clip, they said they'd have the new ones in Tuesday, so I'll go by Wednesday and pick up my cap and gown. I walk in May, so right about now is the general time people buy/rent their caps and gowns for the ceremony. I'll be graduating in December, however I'll walk in May since most of my good friends and my some folks in my high school class will be walking in May, so will I then. I could walk in December, but there's no point, since it's not really my class, in my view.

I'm still torn as to whether or not I should purchase a cheap or an expensive frame for my diploma. I saw a Windsor Mahagony frame running for a bill and fifty, seemed steep. Besides, I want something more personalized. Getting your BA from Berkeley is a once in a lifetime event, after all. Why have the frame look generic, after all.

Onwards and upwards...

posted by qalam on Monday, March 14, 2005 at 12:02 p.m.

Some people work well under pressure. Let's hope I'm one of those people. I have a ten page paper due March 14th, and today, as you rightly might have put together yourself -- is March 13th.

See what I see? A timetable of doom.

However, I feel it nonetheless necessary in spite of this exigency to update my blog with the uninspired happenings that consist of my daily life, here at Berkeley. So I do. I think fear is sufficient motivation to begin tackling the paper, but I don't feel it quite welling up inside me just yet. I probably shouldn't wait much longer, that wouldn't be a good idea...

Witness the dialectic of procrastination inside the mind of Qalam, everyone. Alright, off to write my paper lest the rest of my day be queered by unending bouts of justifications, rationalizations and well-meaning self-bs'ing as to why it's a good idea to wait for some fear to build up...

posted by qalam on Sunday, March 13, 2005 at 11:36 a.m.

Ex got into a wreck not too long ago, instantly my thoughts turned to my dog. She said he was whiny. I nearly lost my heart. My ex was ok, too. Front of the X-terra apparently fared poorly, the front was crushed.

Atleast my dog is ok.

And my ex is fine, too.

The weather is returning to normal again, finally. God, and his legion of merry saints and hookers has decided to rest his anus and sew it up for a little, to let us all recover some of out wits.

posted by qalam on Saturday, March 12, 2005 at 02:27 p.m.

It's been blazing heat the last week or two, a steady 80F if I had to place it. Goddamnit, I hate this fucking heat. It's like living in Orange County again, Christ. Makes me wish I lived in Seattle or somewhere in Vermont.

In other news, the Americans have decided to go along with the EU incentive program to stall for time while probably attempting to figure out how to hit Iran in light of its declaration to go nuclear. Nothing quite like a nuke-ready Iran to cause the Crusaders to tremble in their boots.

It seems pressure has been mounting on Syria to withdraw in compliance with UN SCR 1559 however no one seems in a rush to pressure the fascist Hebrew state to comply with all the UN SC Resolutions they're in violation of, nope. I can hear pins drop when it comes to the Zionists. Thankfully, Syria will allow their 14,000 strong Garrison to stay where it is, while only redeploying a token 5,000 soldiers around.

Mid-term season is upon me, coupled with the heat is proving to be quite regrettable.

posted by qalam on Friday, March 11, 2005 at 01:24 p.m.

Wandered my back to my dorm from Hearst and some other street about 2:30 last night from Elena's co-op, after an extended hookah session lasting about four hours. Some math? We went through three bowls and four coals, not bad for four hours of watermelony enjoyment. Pictures below, including shots of Doe library, Sather Gate and the North Entrance of the campus, all taken roundabout 2:30 in the morning. Enjoy!

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 9, 2005 at 11:20 a.m.

Spent all of Sunday cranking out the dryest paper in all my life. It's been too sunny as of late, too, and it's getting to me, ever so slightly. I'm looking forward to Spring break, the flight's already been booked. Another dry week follows, where you can follow the haphazard Qalam exercise his daily penchant for flouting authority, the self-respect of professors, and himself.

posted by qalam on Monday, March 7, 2005 at 09:20 a.m.

As promised, here are photos from the function. It's 3:30 am and I just got back after the Portuguese cousin drove Elena and I back to Berkeley. Enjoy.


Gina dancing with her boyfriend, along with two other people whose names elude me.


Gina grabbing the gay guy's ass, once again a class act. Looking sultry and seductive, naturally.


Gina's somewhat inebriated slurring. Amusing in its own right.


Gina's application of Elena prior to her bellydancing.


Gay guy offers Qalam a coke, and I in a spasm of lust, seize it. (Nice gay too.)


Gina expounding on her philosophies, Elena haplessly sitting to her side.


This character is the same chap who drove Elena and I back to Berkeley, he shows up with tires squeeling up to Gina's house, obviously heavily intoxicated. Enter "The Portuguese Cousin."


Gina in an unflattering moment.

Night all.

posted by qalam on Sunday, March 6, 2005 at 03:27 a.m.

Function at Gina's tonight is still on schedule, pictures when they become available (read: when I take them, return and upload.) Seems she also went about dutifully giving my phone number to some girl who lives nearby and is also heading to the function, decided we could go together on BART. G. then emails me about this little faux pas only after the fact.

Know what that means? I'm bounded to call this girl. If I don't, I seem rude. Looks like I have a riding buddy on Iron Remorse tonight. (BART)

How's that for friends binding friends? Heh.

posted by qalam on Saturday, March 5, 2005 at 01:22 p.m.

My cousin just instant messaged me informing me, hysterically, that she just caught one of my other cousins, who's male -- watching pornography on his computer.

According to her, it wasn't the soft shit, either. (This implies she was standing there long enough to tell the difference, imagine my dismay.)

Hearing of this made my day, I think it's hilarious. The second she came out with it, I felt a wry and evil grin crack across my face, which then turned into light facial spasms. A few moments later, I erupted in uncontrollable laughter, and as I write this, I'm still grinning like a dumb tool.

I consoled her sorry ass with these kind words: "Atleast it wasn't gay or kiddy shit." I mean, if you had to catch a relative watching porn, lesser of two evils: normal straight people going at it as opposed to three crippled, faggot midgets, a two year old girl, two menstruating Congolese hookers and one donkey, going at it. Which would you prefer catching someone watching?

Right? I think I'm right.

Atleast she didn't catch him jacking off, I could only imagine how hysterical she would've gotten.

Folks, if you're around other people and you're about to engage in some questionable-ass shit, I offer some simple guidelines: close the door, lock it and close the blinds.

...another day in the life...

posted by qalam on Friday, March 4, 2005 at 03:35 p.m.

Spent the time since class and now at Milano's with L., the ex-IDF guy I know who's about thirty now. It seems we have a decent and unique relationship, he and I. It's interesting, the first time we crossed ways he told me he was "disgusted" to see the PLO (al-Fatah) lapel pin I wear with my peacoat (think Boondock Saints) and I knew then and there, we were on our way to having something beautiful. So the hours passed, as he caught up on The Origin and Prevention of War by Rabb (good book, I liked the references to Thucydides mostly.)

In other news, I'll be attending a social event put together by G., a friend of mine who'll also be hosting me for about fifteen days over the Summer in Hayward at her house. I'll bring my Elph and regale you all with shots of the event, it should be interesting.

My professor for PACS (Peace and Conflict Studies) was involved in a car wreck on HWY 1 and the vehicle itself flipped with his ass in it. He wasn't the driver. He still came to class. A true Communist general, enemy entrails for dinner and iron nails for desert. He came to class today, quite fucked up looking. A gash on his cheek, brow and nose, as well as the ridge between his eyes. One eye was red and that's not the worst of it. He also lost a few teeth, among them his front teeth. He still came to class. A true general. He even had a sense of humor about it. He mentioned how we'd have to bear hearing him mangle the word "unassimilable" due to the loss of his two front teeth.

Hardcore.

I received an email from one of my GSI's that the two upcoming sections won't be held, and to that, I say praise be to the al-Aqsa martyrs of Jerusalem. I guess taking Ph.D Qualifying Exams might impinge on free time, time in which one might be instructing a section. Good luck to him, Mash'allah, he's the only Leb. non-Hizballahi who I like, despite being Shi'a. Maybe he's an AMALnik, that would tweak me. I should ask.

Welcome to The Academy.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 2, 2005 at 09:09 p.m.

Looks like one of my ex's, A., is on a date tonight with some jarhead Marine. Ofcourse, she says she's not, but considering the source, it's like hearing Hamas say it's a Pro-Israel foundation. I hope she enjoys herself, I guess you just can't fix some people. Damaged goods are damaged goods, in the end. No amount of sermonizing, preaching or patience will change people, or make them moral unless they want to be moral.

In the end, my ex. isn't moral because it's too hard, she's not moral because she chooses not to be. A simple choice not to be moral. C'est la vie.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 1, 2005 at 03:43 p.m.

Just finished talking to the ex, A., online. And apparently, she's "sad" for me, if it's to be believed. Apparently my "pain" now means something to her, since it never did before when I was in pain seeing her do the things she did. After repeatedly asking her about it, she responded with one "I don't know." after another, instead of being an honest grown woman and copping to the reality that she just never gave a shit about my pain when she was banging around and now pretends she cares about my pain when I see action.

"Sad." -- indeed.

Off to sleep, nite all.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 28, 2005 at 10:44 p.m.

I was nearly late to my discussion section this morning as I was in Oakland. Oakland bus drivers have to be the slowest drivers on the planet. I leave a friend's place around 8 a.m. and make my sorry way to the bus stop, and it takes about 45 minutes as the driver has to pick up every manner of Oakland trash imaginable. I must've had a dozen crips walk past me on and off the bus throughout the whole journey.

There was an instance where an hispanic lady boarded the bus then abruptly stopped on the second step, pulled out a small hand-sized notebook and began taking down information from one of her friends who was standing on the sidewalk. Boring, yes? Average and mundane, yes? Here's the kicker, this hispanic lady turns around and motions to the bus driver to give her a minute, the bus driver says to the effect of "Bitch, I'm late on my route as it is." and hits the lever on her side to slam the doors, and the hispanic lady panics, nearly falls and flips her pen out of her hands in an attempt to grasp the bar rail, this pen then goes flying past my head and harmlessly bounces off some seat.

I never thought Oakland bus drivers thought efficiency or timetables meant anything. I should travel by bus to this ghetto more often.

I arrive at my section at precisely 10:05. It took me two hours to get there. I need a hug.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 28, 2005 at 01:06 p.m.

The good weather we've been having as of late in the Bay Area has been keeping steady, nice overcast, no sunlight, not at all cold, a comfortable 65-70F, so I'm content.

Went to the Oakland Museum today (this morning, actually) with J. and regret not bringing my digital camera. The museum was divided in natural history sections, impressionist, abstract and cultural historical. It was magnificent, and they had a nice restaurant with tanks filled with some fairly large Koi fish. The museum was very large, you could lose hours without intending to do so.

I got a call from A., while with J. and had an interesting exchange, and at the end, as I write this after having continued the discussion from earlier, feel sad that she sees I view women in a poor light. In other news, I think I might need a new cell phone, as I was charging it earlier I spilled something on it and small lines of smoke appeared beneath the unit, with a noticeable scent of burnt plasting emanating as well.

Never a good sign, so I'm off to the Sprint store to buy a new unit.

posted by qalam on Saturday, February 26, 2005 at 03:19 p.m.

The Zionist scum, foe of humanity and enemy of peace today, in spite of the alleged "peace agreement" reached with the venal and corrupt Fatah, and in spite of the security wall, the Resistance demonstrated its committment to noble liberation by activating a martyr against a Zionist entertainment venue -- resulting in four Zionists being exterminated and 30 Zionists being wounded.

Mash'allah ya moqawama, mash'allah.

Zionist Army Radio:

"The whole area of the club was destroyed. Debris fell to the ground and cars were smashed."

In other wonderful news, Iran and Russia have just paved the way for the next step toward Persian mastery of the nuclear fuel cycle, according to the BBC. Russia is expected to receive spent nuclear fuel from Iran and Iran is considering awarding Russia another nuclear contract for a different facility. Once all the fuel is returned, the Bushehr nuclear reactor will be able to finally go online. It's about time. Once the station goes online, and once enough fuel is processed, it should produce enough enriched fuel in months to produce a yield-capable amount for a working nuclear device.

The time is drawing near for Iran to finally no longer be bullied by the Zionist-Crusader alliance.

posted by qalam on Friday, February 25, 2005 at 07:13 p.m.

My blogging's been limited as of late in light of mid-term season rearing its head -- I promise (no, I don't, I lie) fresh, incisive, vitriolic and witty commentary in a few days, in the meanwhile you may all enjoy my casual and dry updates as I trudge through this crap.

Someone shoot me.

posted by qalam on Thursday, February 24, 2005 at 05:37 p.m.

Isn't it too fucking early for midterms? I think it is. Yet here we are, with one of my GSI's threatening to email out midterms and I think he was serious.

In other news, I've called it quits with S. -- immaturity issues, also still have my noodle in a knot in hopeful anticipation of Iranian nuclear independence. Can't wait, I'm also eagerly anticipating Spring Break, as it means a break from schooling entailing a week of thumb-twiddling and outings with friends, possibly even the chance to see a friend's Norinco AK-47, so my toes are crossed.

It's been remarkably clear and sunny the last day or two, and whilst walking around I had flashbacks of Orange Country, then I snapped out of it and came to terms that I was momentarily free from its shackles...

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 23, 2005 at 07:07 p.m.

Spent three days in the city with S, phone died Day 1, no internet connection, lots of pictures of the city. Been ages since I wrote, everyone gets a monogrammed "I'm sorry." t-shirt. I'm hungry, out fooding.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 21, 2005 at 06:45 p.m.

Splurged at the Gap a few days ago, in a paroxysm of consumerist mindlessness, where I purchased a sweater and six cotton shirts, two of each color -- white, grey and black. I don't know what brought it on, but the Gap on Telegraph is a monument to Telegraph selling out to the mainstream. There's even a Hot Topic on the street, it's pernicious. Though I shouldn't bitchslap Hot Topic too badly as A. wants to get with their corporate offices.

One class today, so I woke up at 1pm feeling like a prince in the royal Ottoman courts -- unwound and relaxed to the bone. Spent about an hour and a half ripping some tracks from a few CD's since my laptop plays CD's a little too loudly, so I downloaded some free ripware and I've been ripping and coming up with playlists since. So far, I've ripped both of my Il Canto Di Malavita mafia albums, some Arabic music CDs and my CD filled with Hezbollah anthems. I think I'm about done ripping tracks for now. My musical tastes bespeak my personality, no?

Other news -- theory class today should be interesting, I'll pack up the laptop and hookah rigs and meander into the city to spend time with S.

The three days of straight rain seems to have run its course, it's still overcast but the air is crisp and extremely clear, not too long ago I peered out of a nearby window and could make out the city's skyline and even the individual skyscrapers, as well as the Golden Gate Bridge.

posted by qalam on Friday, February 18, 2005 at 02:57 p.m.

Today's discussion section (for my political theory class) turned heated. We were *supposed* to discuss New Public Management reform in British bureaucracy as well as debate issues concerning marketization of a state's public sector units and its effects on efficiency and more generally, whether a state should opt for governance over government.

Now, that was what was supposed to have happened.

Instead, the GSI, who also happens to be a very good friend of mine, decided to make two -- allegedly brief -- points. The first had to do with how we were engaging the lecturing style of the professor. Ok, fair enough, a general maintenance question, in sum. His next point is what got him shot down over the skies of war-torn Grozny. He wanted to make clear that the entire political historical discourse should be understood within a subjectivist framework of myriad lenses of interpretation -- from the socialist to the Thatcherite.

This is what sat poorly with me.

Firstly, I argued that objective events with predictable and measureable outcomes took place, albeit with wide ranging and difficult to predict ramifications -- but the events themselves, in question, which compose the historical record, are objective -- neautral, but objective. Secondly, he took issue with my assertion that causal links between historical events could be objectively measured within limited parameters. Finally, I tried to land the hardest blow I could: Even in the context of all the possible interpretations that exist of historical events, a synthesis of their commonalities would afford the historian a more general and therefore probably more accurate view of the times and events, to which he had no answer.

The whole discussion section devolved into a heated epistemological debate on the nature of what an "objective event" really is, and if there can be such a thing. I argued there could be. He argued there couldn't be, and everyone else just sat idly by with a look of confusion on their faces.

And to think, we never discussed the joy that is British NPM.

posted by qalam on Thursday, February 17, 2005 at 06:38 p.m.

Not too long ago, the former PM of Lebanon, Rafik Hariri was assassinated. I was told by a Lebanese friend who believes it was the second man in charge of Syrian intelligence who was responsible for conducting the operation.

I believe him.

At first, it seemed counter-intuitive that amidst all the regional tension, Syria would do something like this. Then upon more careful consideration -- I realized Syria couldn't have picked a more perfect time to do it. Here we are, with America threatening Iran while bogged down in its Iraqi Vietnam, what could it do to Syria?

Nothing.

With this assassination, it's open season in Lebanon for the liquidation of political and religious enemies. Personally, I hope Hezbollah liquidates the Lebanese Forces, the bunch that replaced the Christian Phalangists (since they were obliterated in the civil war,) but hey, we all have our hopes and dreams. I'm happy to note that Hariri was an enemy of Syria, and therefore someone who by way of bomb, bullet or hail storm should have been liquidated. If Syria did carry this operation out like both I and a friend believe, then kudos to them. Mash'allah, ya Sham.

In the meanwhile, I thought Israel may have been responsible, but despite my fanatical anti-Zionism, if I had to pick "who did it," Syria would win by a hair's width and beat out Israel and win the "We popped off Hariri." certificate of appreciation.

One more enemy of Syria has bitten the dust, amen, rack them up, stack them up, I call upon Syria and the Rightly Guided Hizballah to wipe out the Lebanese Forces next, just for me. Please?

It pleases me immensely to know that Hizballah is the only party in Lebanon with not only the only legal militia in Lebanon, but the largest, most well-equipped, best trained and most battle hardened fighting force in the country.

Just when you thought it couldn't get any better -- they're Shi'a!

"And the Party of God shall be victorious..."

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 16, 2005 at 07:46 p.m.

Looks like I might participate in Pride 2005 (Gay and Lesbian Pride parade) in the city come June or July, so that should prove to be a departure from normal Qalam behavior and routine. The plan is tentative, depending on the arrangements I make with one of my ex's to behave herself -- but at the moment it looks probable. If it goes down, I'll post pictures of everyone's favorite political dissident dressed in drag.

Hezbollah will never take me seriously again, after this.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 16, 2005 at 10:07 a.m.

Today is Valentine's Day, everyone -- and it's pouring. I received a "Happy Valentines Day!" from Faune the other night, one of my ex's, to which I dutifully responded with an "?" and told her I had to meet someone in the city, whereupon I logged off.

Other news, today's class on theory with the Briton was woven together with a few brittle threads of humor. He illustrated the principle of economic inflation using a pen in one hand and his glasses in the other, whilst explaining he carefully lifted each respective item up and down in relation to the idea he was attempting to convey. The class nodded in stunned amazement. He used a similar approach when describing Keynesianism and the welfare state, and finally ended his lecture remarking that due to the size of his mortgage, if he were the religious sort he'd be praying for higher inflation. You see, it wasn't the core of the matter which was funny, it was how he related his humor that was key to making people smirk and probably think to themselves: "Another dumb Brit."

While he was using his personal items to convey abstraction to a class of Berkeley students, I found myself glancing over to the person next to me with an icy stare perhaps adequately conveying another simple thought.

"If I had my sidearm with me, I would've shot myself by now."

I really enoy the rain, it's quite wonderful, luckily it wasn't pouring yesterday however as I ventured into "the city" and took lots of pictures with my camera. It seems digital photography is fast becoming one of my fetishes.

Below are ten images I snapped yesterday, comments included with each shot, enjoy!!!

Here we have a "Your sex is too loud" sign from one of the locals. Hah.


An interesting shot I thought was worth taking, rather self-explanatory.


The flea market at the UN Plaza. An apt metaphor would be: the third-worlders are besieging our solitary and dignified assembly area!!

Here's a lovely shot of the UN crest, quite beautiful. It adorns the center of the plaza.


Now, who this bloke is, I don't know -- but he seems to have done something very important to have been immortalized in such a valiant and daring pose. Quite Napoleonic, this bloke.


This is an Egyptian teacup, in it is some Oolong tea, some rose water and honey. I have just defined bliss. Take note.


This little creature was found abandoned, caged, in front of an Asian history Museum. He reminds me of some of the things I've called people -- "monster," "beast," "creature of darkness..."


Here's the city council building of the city of San Francisco. Quite majestic, isn't it? It evokes a European feel, it's the architecture that exudes 19th century Milan.


A rather bland shot of the UN Cafe. Viva social progress.


Here's a gent I saw performing on my way back to Berkeley via BART. I asked him if I could take his picture, he obliged. (No, I didn't pay him.)

posted by qalam on Monday, February 14, 2005 at 07:49 p.m.

It's dreary and overcast today, nothing much to report beyond seeing two homeless people arrested last night in front of Blake's. K. and I spent about 45 minutes standing across the street after we concluded our hookah session -- just watching the police question people and in one instance pour some guy's beer onto the curb, probably as a friendly and token gesture of "Now what the fuck are you gonna do, son?" By the shape of it, it resembled one of those Malt Liquor Colt. 45 type bottles.

There were about five squad cars in front of the place, three UCPD and the remaining two Berkeley PD. You can tell them apart because UCPD cars are all white with blue stipes across them, and basically look like Israeli flags on wheels, whereas the Berkeley city PD, whom I refer to as "the actual police" have cars that look exactly as you would think -- black ends, white middle. Both of the bums were quite set on refusing to follow the officers' friendly exhortations. In one instance, one bum planted his feet and it took a bit of grabbing and pulling to shove this character into the back of the squad car. After a search, I saw baggies with powder in them placed on the hood of one of the squad cars along with pill bottles, those kinds that are orange with twist-off white plastic tops, I suppose he was pushing either meth or coke, either way the cop was none too overjoyed by what he found, as they put the clamps on him after the search and walked his ass off to the squad car.

I was cursing at myself the whole time for not having brought my camera. Thankfully, K. and I were standing across the street witnessing Berkeley night-life turn into an episode of "Cops: Bums that just won't fucking cooperate."

By this time it was well past 12:30 a.m. and we were still standing in front of Bill's Boots or some boot store with a streak-of-piss sad name like that, diagonal to Blake's and the whole scene which we witnessed had come and gone. We stood there for another forty minutes as every other ten minutes a group of two squad cars would drive by Blake's probably to see if the order they brought was still firmly in the air.

While K. and I were standing around we observed all manner of Oakland trash walking up and down the street paralleling us, to and from Blake's. Oh yes, we saw more than a few sluts looking ripe and ready to have a $20 bill thrown at them for their service, we saw guys decked out as pimps, we saw some ass named Travis, lanky and as skinny as a pole shouting with a French accent at a group of two hookers who were walking away with either their boyfriends or their fucks-for-the-evening.

I was somewhat tempted to play Pick a Wife but given the mobbish behavior of the crowd and the fact that it was outdoors, were inhibiting factors. The last thing I would've wanted was it going sideways resulting in me being bitten by the hooker and getting a VD because of it.

There were quite a number of tattoo'd punk'ish band people there, and I wondered if there was "a gig" being played. Their women were also quite hooker'd-out in their dress. Barring the game Pick a Wife, K. and I simply guessed which of the girls were probably sluts and which were bona fide hookers.

I learned some valuable lessons last night -- if I ever want a powder drug, or a hooker, nothing beats a Saturday night in front of Blake's between 12:00 and 1:30 a.m.

posted by qalam on Sunday, February 13, 2005 at 09:52 a.m.

On this date, in 1979, the corrupt and depraved Shah of Iran was ousted along with his lackey, bloated, venal and perverted regime. In came the victorious and righteous leadership of the Ayatullah Ruhollah al-Khomeini, and with the downfall of the imperialist-supported regime of the Shah, a puppet of the West and of the CIA, the birth of the Islamic Republic of Iran, was ushered.

Since that day, American hegemony in the Middle East suffered a serious setback and a colossal blow, one from which it has still not recovered. Today, those of in the camp of the righteous, have reason to celebrate.

Long live the Revolution, longer still, its spirit.

posted by qalam on Friday, February 11, 2005 at 07:43 p.m.

Unless I'm terribly mistaken, isn't AIDS ravaging the hell out of Africa? It seems that the latest Rhodesian fashion trend is falling afoul with NGO's attempting to stifle the spread of this disease.

"Donors are upset at the misuse of the condoms."

It would've only added to the hilarity had the article followed with "It also seems in certain communities that these condoms have been used in conjunction with CO2 cannisters, whereby the condom is used as a balloon for the purpose of a rapid inhalation of CO2 resulting in a high..."

posted by qalam on Friday, February 11, 2005 at 11:05 a.m.

A true believer of the cause is about to face up to 15 years of prison time for her noble aid of The Blind Sheikh. I hope she doesn't get anything too stiff, she was a true believer in the message of the Sheikh, and went above and beyond the call to do what she did. If only half the women in this world had the constitution she did in her assistance of those whose cause was just, if only half...

posted by qalam on Thursday, February 10, 2005 at 06:26 p.m.

The ex and I (Autumn, not Faune) had a nice long conversation last night which ran its course with her ending it on a somber note. I suppose she was just tired of hearing me relentlessly analyze her, perhaps it was a concession, perhaps it was any number of things. Perhapsing about with the motivations and motives of ex's is something made all the more difficult when the ex in question, herself, has no clear idea of what she's doing, or why -- something that was told to me repeatedly. I can think of no better definition of a loose-canon.

So much like the old Soviet adage of "They pretend to pay us, and we pretend to work," an evolution of that might be: "She pretends to answer, and I pretend to believe."

She said she's been without physical intimacy of the reproductive hue for about two months. I found this admission to be mind-boggling. Is it true? Might be.

At any rate, she also made it plain how much she disliked my post on the game some of us play, called "Pick a Wife." Her thesis in this regard, was predicated on the belief that I operated on assumptions, many in fact. She's right. However, what she failed to keep in mind, was this: they were well-founded assumptions, and that's the difference.

For example, it would not be a well-founded assumption to believe that a nun, in a bar, is planning to engage in sexual activity or betray anyone. It would, however, be a well-founded assumption to believe that a grown woman, married and without her husband with her, at a bar, scantily clad, with no friends around her that one can discern -- intends on doing something, or plans on doing something, that a wife shouldn't be doing. (Or a husband, for that matter.)

So you see, there are gradations of validity imbued in assumptions, it is therefore a matter of observing the possible reality and comparing it with the probable reality, that allows us to delineate between the absurd asumption, and the well-founded assumption, between the improbably true assumption, and the probably true assumption. My ex in excoriating me failed to observe such nuances of distinction. Instead, with a single wave of the hand, she dismissed my assumptions and said that passing judgement on people, is a bad thing, and that I had no authority to do it.

Naturally, I took strong exception to her overly-simplistic interpretation -- primarily because she wasn't there at the time, and that had she been there, she would've probably agreed that these women (married) in question were up to something.

(And I use the term "women" loosely as it connotes a sense of dignity which should not be conferred to females who may actually be sluts and whores, just to be clear.)

Well, I don't know about YOU, but I'M in the mood for a naked fertility dance.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 9, 2005 at 09:48 a.m.

Some while ago a friend offered to let me taste their Thai tea with boba (little balls of tapioca, as I understand it) and in a daring maneuver amidst innocent bystanders at a cafe, I had a small order of this ambrosia this evening. I've since arrived at a concrete conclusion concerning my quest to discover the perfect drink -- as you might've guessed, it's Thai tea with boba.

After experiencing one sloshy mouthgasm after another, I gulped the entirety of this concoction with no apparent ill-effect on my immediate health. I wasn't concerned about dropping to my knees, bleeding from my eyes before a hallucination of the Virgin Mary commanding me to forswear my vile and wicked ways, then promptly passing on to the hereafter, no, not at all. If one presumes to know the nature of the tea merely by glancing at the substance, it would leave one thinking that it resembled rusted water, thick orange rusted water, you know, with something metallic in it -- to cause the rust, right. We've established this, moving on.

The quality of the boba was overwhelmingly good, despite lacking a baseline of comparison, it received my hollow approval.

For your viewing pleasure this evening, on offer are two shots of Z. and D. behaving scandalously and one shot of the P-Unit showing the kids how it's done.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 7, 2005 at 08:33 p.m.

Kevin, one of my friends, in a fit of shit-shooting terror asked me to take his picture down for fear of sodomy at the hands (or rather at the penis) of the Homeland Security Nationalist Socialist German Workers Party. Any officials at the FBI, CIA or Homeland Security Department who want his picture, contact me and I'll email it to you all in triplicate.

Other news, I acquired some mint tobacco, now I'm immensely pleased with myself. Good night all.

posted by qalam on Sunday, February 6, 2005 at 10:00 p.m.

Some more time was spent with the local gents, K. and S. last night. At Blake's, a quasi-restaurant bar, with K. enjoying his typical White Russian and S. deciding to remain uncharacteristically dry, I myself was neither thirsty nor hungry. (Alcohol is repulsive to me, mixed or straight, given my lack of weakness for it, it's safe to say I don't have a single drop of corrupt blood in me, white or otherwise.) We simply lounged around at Blake's absorbing the Oakland'ish ambience.

People were shouting at each other inside and before we entered the establishment, there was a large group of questionable-looking black and hispanic gentlemen milling about out front having already clearly decided, it seemed, to unanimously take the night off from polishing their Ph.D dissertations and National Science Foundation award-acceptance speeches.

I've never seen people wear clothing so puffy in my life, bearing words such as "Ecko," "South Pole," "North Pole," "Fubu," naturally the caliber of people I was walking amongst became clear. Their whores were attired similarly. We three moved past them, then through them, and into Blake's.

While inside, the gents and I played a game we like to indulge in, whenever we find ourselves (quite often these days,) at such five-star establishments such as Blake's. The game is called "Pick a Wife." As you might imagine, the premise rests upon a single and absolutely necessary precondition: we must be surrounded, on all flanks, by a hoarde of whores. A seething and lusty army of whores oozing venerial disease and the color pink.

So while sitting, we challenge each other to pick from among all these girls and women who constitute our audience for the evening -- a seafood buffet of STD's walking around and slutting it up -- a wife, or a woman who could be a wife or most likely is a wife. I usually win. K. and S. usually pick sluts who seem more moderately attired, but in the end more often than not, I seem to win. It's disconcerting. It ends with one of us, after a heated argument and debate attempting to convince the other two he's right -- walking up to the girl or woman, looking for a wedding ring, and after possibly not finding one, asking "Madam, excuse me, you wouldn't happen to be married, would you?"

I won, last night.

I asked a girl/woman this question -- she was married, and her husband wasn't with her at this place. We all know what that means. It's the kind of sick game we play, where winning is always losing and losing is the only respectable victory. Winning means you've definitely found either a woman who is going to cheat on her husband or boyfriend, or is about to do so. Losing means something better, it means she's a slut, but unmarried and in no relationship, just looking to continue being a slut with whatever guy she finds next. The honor of losing comes from the tacit acknowledgement that atleast she's good enough to be single while doing this, and isn't stabbing anyone in the back by being in a relationship.

Fun game, isn't it? We play it all the time. And I, usually anyway, win. Meaning? I can spot the one's on the edge, about to do something they shouldn't do. We've all seen "Trainspotting," welcome to "Whorespotting."

This is how the evening ended, with all of us parting ways to meet again in the future, at some unspecified time and date. Before we went to Blake's, we had ourselves a shisha Saturday night, where as usual, we discussed the latest rumor, casted the fashionable slander and prognosticated the fate of wayward economic and social systems. We discussed monogamy and polygamy and all came to the conclusion that monogamy is simply the preferred route to personal happiness. The "army of wives" thesis appealed to none of us, since amongst us, fidelity means more than anything else. What do you do when all your wives get bored and you're not around?

You're probably thinking the same thought I'm thinking.

This isn't the olden days, one simply cannot unleash from its hell-shackled cage, the slaughter of all slaughters upon the unfaithful as, for example, the all-loving Hebrew god always did. I wish I lived back in those times, if the probability of finding a loyal wife went up to a high-majority percentile rank, but it also meant me being transported back to that era of antiquity, frankly, I'd do it. No laptop, email, cell phone, none of that? Children and a loyal wife? Shit, you've got a volunteer in me. Ready that contraption, strap me in, and tell my friends I envy them nothing, now.

Pictures of the session are below, readership.

Set on a low exposure, a shot of Gypsy's as I walk up to K.'s place



S. exhaling the cleanest stream of mist I've ever seen -- genuine gangster.



Another shot of S. discussing if memory serves, his ex-girlfriend.

posted by qalam on Sunday, February 6, 2005 at 11:33 a.m.

Today marks the conclusion of the week-long lecture series by the guest lecturer from Sheffield, or however it's spelled. And yes, I've already forgotten his name. His final lecture had to do with the rise of New Labour and the Thatcherite leanings it carried through in policy, including foreign policy. Amusingly, he ended his lecture with a bit of a plea. I interrupted him and to the amusement of the class asserted the following, "Wow, a shameless plug." The class laughed, the professor went red, and I got smug.

And it was a plug, too.

He asked interested students to email him if any ever decided to pursue graduate coursework at his university. Now, the current visiting lecturer is from Exeter College, one of Oxford's colleges, so if anyone would attend a foreign college, it surely won't be that hole in the ground calling itself Sheffield College -- rather, it'd be Oxford University's colleges.

Atleast he tried. Shmuck.

Maya and I walked out after the end of class where the conversation went rather bloated and blue -- she mentioned she cheated on two of her boyfriends, now ex's. This was all brought about after I had inquired as to why she was seeing her ex. to drop off some of his possessions.

Needless to say, with that new knowledge revealed, Maya and I will remain only friends -- if that. It was quite sad to hear her say it. At one point she stated that morality was "passe."

See, shit like that wins you no points with me. Thankfully, with her nature cleared up in my mind and out in the open, I can slowly distance myself from her without offending her.

(Must they all be sluts? I, for a moment, thought she just might've been an actual human being.)

It looks like the trip to her co-op to snap pictures of all the art and graffiti, is going to be indefinitely delayed, due to all of this. For that my readers, I'm truly sorry. The place was mindblowing inside, in both a good and bad way -- but worth sharing nonetheless.

In other news, the world generally seems to be going to hell thanks to American efforts at molding the world in its own immoral and godless image.

(What entry would be complete without a parting shot?)

posted by qalam on Friday, February 4, 2005 at 07:21 p.m.

Yes, I know, it's been ages since I last penned a gem. (Don't expect another anytime soon, legions.) In the meanwhile, I wrote a 25 page paper consisting of a comparative analysis guaging the concepts of "virtue" and "truth" from the perspectives of al-Qur'an, Confucious' Analects and the Laws of Hammurabi. It was quite a thoughtful and illuminating process, to whit. Having read through dozens, upon dozens of verses from al-Qur'an and having poured through all the Laws and Analects, I have to say the Socratic approach toward imparting information, wisdom really, was most clearly put forward by the Analects, without doubt. An utterly resplendent masterpiece of revelation, al-Qur'an, came in as a close second and the Laws -- which lacked any creative or imaginative qualities ranked last.

I mean, I can only read so many Laws that have to do with drowning a Priestless selling wine without a certain stipulation -- before I decide to skip past it go back to the Analects.

The days have been passing slowly, which is somewhat of a good thing, I suppose. It seems the Pope is in dire straits, having suffered some health problems in recent days -- it seems the days of his reign as Jesus Christ Superstar are nigh waning. It seems the elections in Iraq have gone relatively well (In most of the world, that would be called a bloodbath, but in Iraq, we call it Wednesday.) however yesterday 12 Iraqi soldiers were slain in the Mayberry of Iraq -- Kirkuk. By who? Sunnis. Why? They're collaborators. How? A charming medley of small arms probably consisting of assault rifles, an Improvised Explosive Device or two, of one or another configuration and some good old-fashioned anti-colonial Iraqi ire. That's usually all it takes, it seems.

Ambushes are a lovely way to convey a warm sense of intimacy with one's foes -- "Yes, hello again. Yes, it's us, right, al-Zarqawi's lot, yeah, how's your mum? Yeah? Did she receive the baklava we sent? Excellent. Now, about that ambush, yes, you see your presence in our country is alarming so we've taken it as a matter of dry humor to maim and kill your people as often as we've had the opportunity to come by your witless chaps. We're incredibly sorry for your losses however you should find solace in the fact that we make it a point to only spend a minimal amount of explosives and ammunition when turning your soldiers into hot puffs of red mist. Please leave the country at once, or we'll become rather upset, distraught, and take to overeating before noon prayers."

Who said Political Science was hard?

Onwards, yesterday was rather interesting for personal reasons -- I asked out a lovely girl in my theory class named Maya (no romantic intentions, at all) and wound up going to one of her decals (Democratic Education at Cal, classes taught by students, essentially,) on Jungian psychology which took place at cafe Milano. (We were later to return there, as well) and afterwards, she and I ventured off to her co-op, and on the outside, it's unremarkable -- on the inside however? Industrial, we shall call it, exposed piping and wiring, creative graffiti on the walls and doors and elsewhere. It was quite hard to take it all in, which is why I regret not having my Elph on me. After being introduced to a few of her fellow co-op'ers we had dinner there, and then went off to the Hearst gym.

Everyone, I have a confession of sorts, to make: I learned to Cha-Cha last night, and spent about three hours doing it along with a session of other people at the basketball court of the gym. I lead, but Maya was experienced, impressively so. Afterwards, having burned quite a number of calories and also having had a good time, we headed back to cafe Milano where we rambled on every subject you could possibly have two people discuss with each other.

We parted company at 12:30am, yesterday and I felt remarkably enthused over having made a brand new, factory labelled and battery-equipped, warrantied, new friend. I never thought I would wake up one morning and realize I'd learn to Cha-Cha with a classmate before the end of the night. I should make a habit of tagging along with her in the future, and I probably will.

This is the second time in recent history I've found myself walking the streets of Berkeley past midnight. Interesting.

Next time though, I'll have my Elph, and I'll take all the pictures I wish I took last night.

posted by qalam on Thursday, February 3, 2005 at 08:50 a.m.

About 25 people have been killed in various attacks spread throughout provinces taking part in today's election in Iraq. (Well, yesterday's over there.)

I haven't been writing anything on the topic as anyone interested in an in-depth analysis can find it at Juan Cole or sundry online news outlets peddling their opinion on the matter.

Today marks the beginning of the gradual ascendency of the Shi'a in Iraq -- an historic event that has "Unintended Consequences" writ large in red marker across its sides. Under Ayatullah al-Sistani, a single group of disparate parties ranging from secular groups to al-Dawa and Iraqi Hezbollah are vying for seats, jockeying for influence and seeking patronage.

All the while the Kurdish north and the Shi'a South are merrily and drunkenly partaking in this big dick competition of political power that the West has labelled "democracy in Iraq," the Sunni center of the country has boycotted the festivities, preferring resistance to falling in line with American toadyism. Note, it isn't an insurgency, as how can one be an insurgent in one's own country? If anything, the American army is the only insurgency in Iraq.

The region itself is experiencing a bit of concern, to put it mildly, as all the Sunni monarchist gulflets along with the Wahab Saudis and the Hashemite kingdom are in a tizzy. They're tossing around terms like "Shi'ite arc," and "Shi'a Cresent," in describing the band of Shi'a influence that would reach from Tehran to the Beka'a Valley. I suppose they have good reason to be worried, as for example, the gulflets feature a Shi'a majority population under Sunni monarchist rule. At the moment however, everyone is keeping a close eye on the Iraqi front, but an even keener, closer eye on Iran.

Whatever happens, whether the Sunni continue boycotting and marginalizing themselves or realize that the Shi'a are now a force to be reckoned with -- one thing remains clear, the ascendency of political and religious Shi'ism will mold the Iraq of tomorrow, and in that refashioning of the national identity, Iran's role develops new dimensions.

The US is in for an interesting ride, having bitten off more than it can chew in Iraq, Iran offers it Tabasco sauce to help clear its throat by refusing to genuflect before American imperialist hubris. Despite America's most determined and bitter attempts to rally the world against Iran, no one is being sold on the idea -- not even the second head of Satan, Britain. Israel is onboard, but even they're hesitant in their provocation, as they're ignorant of what the Iranians could really do to them should the Israelis with American blessings, attempt an Osirak-styled attack on Iran.

The US, despite its saber-rattling and empty words realizes its global credibility has fallen through the floor and past a few levels of hell before soundly falling onto Israel's lap. Because of this, Tehran rightly believes US aggression against it will not assume military scope, but remain purely polemical and a matter of flourish.

Without doubt, the new levels of complexity emerging in Iraq are enmeshed with existing anti-American bitterness and hatred further stoked and fueled by the initial invasion and subsequent brutal occupation -- which may constitute a dangerous fusion of hostility, rage and lust for retaliation, whose nature and anger could well form the future backbone of an al-Qa'ida like successor organization.

The US has managed to do all of this, without ever harming al-Qa'ida or apprehending Osama Bin Laden. Instead, it has engendered more anger and rage, a certain recipe for future attacks against America abroad or on its own soil. The Bush administration's relentlessly upbeat perspective is colored by religious fanaticism and blinds it to the threat it has now created. The administration, has removed a stable tyranny which never posed a threat to its safety, and has now replaced it with a political and social power vacuum which will only be filled by terrorists hellbent on carrying out attacks against America in the future.

The US has created more enemies with its words and policies than it could ever have created by simply attending to its own needs and problems at home. Instead, in line with the ideology of American exceptionalism and Manifest Destiny -- America wishes to police and dominate the whole of the world, and its citizenry goes on unconcerned, blithely continuing its everyday existence, offering only a token phrase of passive resentment which it feels constitutes harsh moral rebuke.

"Yeah, he lied."

posted by qalam on Sunday, January 30, 2005 at 10:01 a.m.

I broke with custom last night and actually socialized in public. I know, utterly unheard of. I got a call from one of my closer friends last night, and what I thought would be a mere outing for a quick dinner wound up with me walking home, at 3:00 a.m., shisha-in-case and in tote, on my way down Durant and back to my dorm.

I was standing around, the neck of another shisha at my lips, around 7pm that very night at my local haunt, Wheelan's. My cell phone began chiming, and I thought to myself "This isn't normal." As I normally don't receive calls at night, so my next thought was "Oh goodness, someone in my family must've been involved in a horrific road entanglement resulting in their slow and painful demise, my, this phone call might be a coroner or police officer."

And so, while these fleeting thoughts passed, I answered the phone, and was greeted by a "Hey, it's Kev." upon my offering the perfunctory "Hello?" One thing led to another, in in less than thirty minutes from the call ending, I wound up at little place called Henri's. It was essentially a hotel bar and restaurant. I didn't have a drop of alcohol but Steve and Kevin were flirting with their Long Island Iced Teas, and I was seducing my coke.

The place was unbearably loud, so we made haste with our meals, paid and left. Steve suggested the night was still young. (And whenever someone says this, someone is usually killed before the end of the venture. I've seen the movies.) and Kevin and I concurred. So we merry three rolled down Durant until, finally, Shattuck greeted us, we turned left, then right soon after (don't you like it when I describe things with nautical precision?) and wound up in front of the Gaia apartments, which are upscale student housing. Directly to our left flank, lay Jupiter's.

This place was more interesting, more restaurant/performance venue than restaurant/bar. There was live music, rather good live music. We headed to the balcony, littered with a sea of patio tables (not the crap ones you have in your backyard stained with ash and dried streaks of animal urine) and festooned with platoons of socializing, drinking hoardes. Not too many young people, more mid twenties quasi-professional types and people in their early thirties. The live music was jazzy, and quite soothing if but a bit loud. I don't remember exactly how long a time we spent here but it was a few hours, without doubt.

Everything under the sky was discussed last night -- all things social, political and economic. The real gems of wisdom were imparted in the final hours of our outing, when I brought my shisha along to the apartment and the three of us ruminated until three in the morning.

We discussed human potential; planetary limitations facing exponential and unrestrained human growth; utopian models of human salvation -- and generally idealized human potential to stave off ultimate extinction. We discussed meanings of class and race, and generally behaved like shisha'd-out Berkeley students. The time finally came when I began passing out, where the shisha's toll on me exacted a great deal of my energy, I was feeling the most relaxed I've ever felt. (Smoking shisha does that.) I realized it was getting far too late, even for a Friday night, so we three slowly began to retire, Steve was the first to bid his farewell. And not too soon after, I began cleaning up the shisha, rinsing and drying and fitting everything back into the case.

I left a little while later after pissing in the wind a bit longer, and let me tell you -- nothing is spookier than walking out, alone, 3 a.m., in Berkeley. All the bums were sound asleep in their matted sleeping bags, even their lice put down their violins and took their respite. Not a questionable person in sight, or really, anyone in sight. It was reminiscent of those first few scenes in the movie "28 Days Later," where the patient wakes up and runs through the streets nigh naked (I was clothed, restrain yourself.) in shock and panic that no one was around.

In sum, it was an experience worth repeating.

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 29, 2005 at 01:00 p.m.

Today wasn't a long day, but it felt like one. Things were fairly routine until I stepped into my theory class and realized that a video was to be shown.

Well, it started up and things were going well enough until the DVD player decided to throw a fit. Now, as I bitch and moan and you think the matter isn't serious -- you'd change your tune if you had to sit through over an hour of a film that was being played on a streak of piss DVD player.

After that exercise in lunacy concluded, I went to the smokeshop, and hit the shisha. It's becoming a bit of a habit, however today the shisha use was utterly warranted, I felt drained having endured that misery while seated in an all-wood chair that looked like its niche was a 12th century church in Azerbaijan.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 26, 2005 at 09:54 p.m.

Today, Ali had the shisha going with some mint when I came by after classes were concluded. I dropped my satchel, pulled up the stool and was handed the neck, and began a nice long inhalation, exhaling slowly as the cloud began to pour out of my nose and pass before my eyes and up into the aether.

"Ahh... community."

After a few more relaxing and deep inhalations, I handed the neck back to Ali, feeling sufficiently minty -- I began to notice the catchy Arabic music wafting through the air. It was Marcel Khalif. I immediately pulled out my USB flash drive and popped it into the back of Ali's laptop and began a mass transfer of his entire Arabic mix. You see, he understood. I thanked him afterwards. I wound up with two Amr Diab albums, some watani filistini music (nationalist Palestinian) and a few songs by Khalif. Damn, this song is really, really catchy. Any reader who wants it, drop me a line in the comments section and I'll email it out.

I've only got one class tomorrow. Anyone up for an educated guess as to where I'll be afterwards? Will I be seen trolling for skank in Sproul Plaza? Will I be cruising Telegraph making friendly with the homeless? (Berkeley color, as I call them.) Will I be studying? Well, there's nothing to study, really...

No. I'll be visiting with the "community." As sad and as pathetic as it sounds (and it really is this sad) these guys are the closest thing to blood around here. And so, here I am, at a top fifteen university, watching my time fly by as though it were a mirage -- shimmer and disintegrate into clouds of minty smoke. What else would I be doing? Joining clubs? Going to bars and parties catching venerial diseases? Studying? (Something I do anyway.) Perhaps finding a girlfriend? (Hah.) Exercising...?

Rather, at the ripe old age of 22, I've outgrown most of those things despite having never experienced them first hand. I find myself content and in harmony simply surrounded by guys with similar views on life, lounging around discussing politics, life, passing around the neck of a shisha while making untoward remarks about the ocassional homosexual that walks in looking for a pack of Marlboro Reds.

(Always in Arabic, because I think it's safe to say 99% of the gay guys who come in -- with AIDS coursing in their blood and with their anuses dragging five feet behind them -- don't understand Arabic.)

I'm an old man like that.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 24, 2005 at 09:08 p.m.

I think I have too much free time, moreso than usual. This morning I spent some time eating my breakfast inside the smokeshop and Omar was manning the register, a welcome sight as I've been inured to Ziad's shiny bald head, not all too dissimilar from my own, except his crown is hairless whereas mine sports some stragglers and fence-sitters. Ziad's going for the dignified look, whereas I just shave my head.

My latest acquisition, a shisha, is a fine testament to hedonism and community bonding. In the West, the white folk gather around a fire or go camping, in the East, we gather around the shisha. Mine is a Lebanese (ya hizbullah) shisha, with a clear Bohemian (Czech) glass base inlaid with gold designs. The rod is modular -- a screw-on -- so replacement is an option. The stem is the type you plug, the same goes for shishas with crystal bases (which run into the hundreds of dollars) as were it a screw on, obviously the crystal or glass (in my case) would be scratched.

Not good.

Also, unlike the Egyptian shishas, Lebanese shishas sport a bowl-holder that allows the bowl to fit into it, as opposed to the more common and less stable configuration of a conical support where the bowl is placed around the support. The latter kind wobbles, and the former doesn't, with or without rubber spacers.

Also, my shisha is a single piece of metal, minus the modular rod, therefore isn't one of those shishas which is soldered together and subject to air/fluid leak or breakage. The brown color of the bowl (a more traditional color, I was going for a mix of modern -- the glass base and solid non-soldered design -- and a streak of ancient, with the brown,) note, accents the wooden hand grips at both ends of the black hose. I chose the black hose (wax lined internally for more durability) as it complements the silver stem.

I paid $USD125.00 -- even, and I got most of what you see in the case, along with the case itself, for free. What I got would retail for USD$170.00, so I suppose it always helps to know the proprietors of the business. :)

I suppose it's time to let the pictures speak for themselves, input is welcomed.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 24, 2005 at 12:42 p.m.

I won't lie to you.

I did nothing today but smoke hookah surrounded by Palestinian guys (shebab al-tanzeem,) all day long, literally, from about noon to around an hour ago -- at Wheelan's Smokeshop on Bancroft and Telegraph. That's about five to six hours of straight Ottoman smoke lynching, Filistini style.

The cell and I went through cherry (flavorful and seductive,) apricot (friendly and soft on the throat,) orange (bland, so we switched to al-waha instead of al-fakhri brand and it became a spicy orange, almost minty,) mint (bliss, about as pure, cleansing and refreshing as the seeping red maidenhead of the purest virgin upon her deflowering -- really, the mint was that good,) and apple (simply a light sweetness.) In all, the mint and the apricot were by and far preferred, with cherry (al-othman variety, even al-waha was too strong) coming in a close third, possibly even tying for third with apple (al-fakhri.)

One of my GSI's (think of them as high school TA's but for college) walked in with his Danish girlfriend (charming and intelligent) for two packs of cigarettes while I was befriending the hookah, we exchanged our friendly kifak inta's and alhamdulillah's, and then he promptly said I should keep up with the course readings, in jest ofcourse. Then he and his ladyfriend walked out for lunch around the corner at Boba's. (A fine establishment, I recommend the tofu.)

I love this GSI, he's one of the chaps who'll write yours truly a recommendation and through some wasta probably get me into Berkeley should I join the Peace Corps and return to re-apply. (A probable, unless I get into a program.)

posted by qalam on Sunday, January 23, 2005 at 07:27 p.m.

I have a few words to share.

Not too long ago, the President of the United States delivered his inaugural address. Apparently the word "freedom" was used 44 seperate times, in this speech. Syrian academic al-Azm stated that reaching a conclusion about the speech would be difficult because of its "broad and overarching" nature. I, however, have reached some conclusions, and so, I have a few more words to share.

First, "ain't no friends when it comes to ends." - Eazy E.

I felt the need to write that, as at the moment the song which emobodies those lyrics is playing, tangents aside...

Let me begin at the end: according to CNN, Bush ended his address with "... with the ultimate goal of ending tyranny in our world." Catch that? "Our" world? I think the "our" he means is the world he wishes to violently and apocalyptically reshape for "our" own good. And, it is for "our" own good, whether we know it or not. Also, I would agree with al-Azm on the matter of the broad and overarching nature of the speech. It can't get any broader or overarching when the President takes it upon himself to end tyranny, can it? Sure, you can stop some crime, and stop some drugs here and there. You can even stop tyranny in a country by invading. Vietnam invaded Cambodia to put down the Khmer Rouge, Angola invaded Rwanda for much the same reason... ending a tyranny.

But it's a touch messianic and millenarial to claim you'll end "tyranny" in "our world." Sure, you might think the address is supposed to be optimistic and should only be interpreted to mean that general ideals are being outlined. You'd be right if the President said this while having never invaded a country which had nothing to do with 9/11, however, the president did do just that. So, while one might consider what he said to be an optimistic outline, I see it as an omen. An omen, much like Hitler's Mein Kampf, which was penned in prison. His admirers saw it as an optimistic outline, his enemies saw it as an omen.

Am I comparing Bush and Hitler? Well, if you're the average American, you also believe Iraq had something to do with 9/11, so I won't bother to answer the question.

Now, another point on tyranny. How can one claim or wish to end tyranny in the world when most of the world views the person uttering these words, as a tyrant? You only end tyranny by using tyranny, and become the new tyrant. Is that the message? Because that's the reality of it. There's some food for thought. Maybe it's a "necessary evil," as neo-conservatives often like to call it, and other things.

You can see a problem emerging when there are more and more evils that become "necessary" over time, with a group of people. You can see this disturbing pattern with the Bush administration. Others have made interesting observations about Bush's coronation of greed and terror, I mean his address. The editor of one online African paper stated that he seemed to be making the speech of a pastor, and not a political figure.

Spooky, how dead on some people can be.

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 22, 2005 at 07:21 p.m.

I've been listening to Eazy E's "Just to let you know." for the last few days. (I lie, it's been a week.) I'm certain this is all much to the acute annoyance of my roommates, honestly though I've rationalized it, I think the song is growing on them. Often times they march about their daily routine humming the beats even though the song isn't playing. (A rarity when it's not playing.)

Not only is the song well-written and catchy, I remember hearing it when I was very young living in an apartment in LA, it came over my small portable radio and it's stuck with me since. Up until a week ago, all I remember were a few words of the lyrics, but that was more than enough for google to pull up the song. I downloaded it and have been in bliss since. This is all very profound to me, you might ask "So, it's just a song." Yes well, that's all very fine and well, but it's when I heard this song, and who I was at that age, which also serves as the impetus behind my listening to it.

It goes well beyond the mindless and trite supposition of "It's a nice song, maybe that's why he likes it."

At any rate, I have to buy books and readers today, something I disdain. There's something fascist about it, I just have to find out what. It's part of the call and duty of every Cal student to find the fascist motivation behind even the most seemingly necessary and innocuous of acts. I've waited until the end of the week in vain hopes of perhaps experiencing shorter lines. We'll see how vain those hopes are.

Adieu.

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 22, 2005 at 11:40 a.m.

I found two wonderfully entertaining blogs a year ago and have been following them closely. I've fallen in love with both, they offer such illuminating and humorous insight into two professions which will never go out of business.

(And no, I wasn't referring to prostitution, you vile monster.)

They're both cleverly written and they're both British blogs, to carry on the British theme of the last entry. A faithful reader will find them here and here.

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 20, 2005 at 07:16 p.m.

Two classes today, one taught by a fervently anti-Bush and anti-Evangelical guy who, despite his Ph.D and the intelligence that goes with it, had a fairly difficult time not bashing Bush or Evangelical Christians. The white people seemed amused, but the Koreans seemed unnerved, since they're all Evangelical Christians. He also continually kept referring to churches in his day as "Kill a Commie for Christ." Protestant churches.

Always good to know that Berkeley still has good old hard-core leftist fanatics. (What the fuck am I talking about? Still has? Rather, always had, has now, and will continue to have.) You see, I make no claims to objectivity or impartiality. I think fanatics are great, only when they believe in the things I do. This is why if Abu Musab al-Zarqawi were in a marathon, everyone would hurl rocks at him, and I'd be the only guy with a cup of water in my hand stretched out for him to grab.

The second class of the day was headed by an actual Briton who, for whatever reason, wound up teaching at Berkeley. His accent isn't Victorian but it's not London cockney, either. It's cockney trying to sound less cockney, I suppose. Good man so far, he seems to have had trouble during his immigration process as it proved fodder for his comedy routine which he regaled the class with. He began relating a personal experience having to do with completing immigration forms which had questions like "Do you intend to engage in espionage in the United States?" and, funnier still, "Were you ever convicted of committing war crimes, crimes against humanity or genocide between 1939-1945?"

He wound up lambasting American bureaucracy while simultaneously also, somehow, coming off as seemingly admiring it. Only an Englishman could pull that off, ladies and gentlemen. He accused the US of insanity in that regard, (something I do all the time,) but the full brunt of it was diminished when he infused the remark with a fat and wide grin. He's smart, but has a weakness for momentary lapses into tangents, by his own admission, and idiocy. (The latter not by his own admission, but is adduced from his behavior today.)

I'm getting sleepy. I'm a senior, I can't believe it. God, I'm so fucking tired.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 19, 2005 at 09:15 p.m.

Ran into Navid today by chance, an old high school friend who much like yours truly wound up to be a Berkeleyite. Today was the first day of scheduled class, and I faithfully showed up. Turns out the professor is gay, it seems. So this should be an entertaining semester.

Thankfully, as loyal readers note, none of my classes begin before 11 a.m., so I really have my mornings free -- something that hasn't been the case for a very, very long time. I've grown some fluff on my face, but I'm too lazy to shave now. Why, I could do it in the morning! Fathom that.

It seems Seymour Hersh has run his mighty ship aground once again, right atop the perilous rocks of truth, by publishing an article revealing in broad strokes US operations in Iran designed to target nuclear and military facilities for a future military campaign. Once again, the US has been shown to be plotting and scheming against a sovereign country -- there's a surprise. The Iranians promptly rejected the conclusions of the article but deep down inside, we all know they're certainly going to be vigilant, moreso than usual.

The US, just as usual, has egg on its face. No one should be surprised that America does the things it does. It's a nation drunk on its own power and dim-witted belief that its self-righteousness is just or based in truth.

I wonder if the policy minds in Washington D.C., have any familiarity, either working familiarity or vague conception, of the historical trend that empires have always, invariably and inevitably, followed. You see, they expand, maintain their power in that expansion, and then, much like the local bar regular that's beginning to imbibe a bit too much. The empire becomes drunk on its power, vast and mighty, and decides to expand still further. This is where the drunk man starts a fight with another patron of the establishment.

The rest of the world, is that other patron.

American empire-builders have been kept in check thus far, by the unified political will of dissenting states, however there will come a time when the bloodlust of American greed overwhelms its own instinct of self-preservation.

I believe that today, this pivotal juncture is beginning to materialize in all geographic and ideological spheres of political power and interest. The world sees the monster before it, and finds itself cornered, back against the wall. We may breathe a sigh of relief and console ourselves by thinking that the nuclear deterrence of other states will prevent American invasion, but in reality, it will only forestall it momentarily. Where the world's nation-states successfully rebuff American military threats, as in the North Korean case, America employs other means at its vast disposal. Some involve the active use of intelligence and paramilitary assets in order to destabilize a regime.

In other cases, where victory is on the horizon, rather than make brash political maneuvers, the US simply waits until the leaders die off. This applies to the Cuban and the North Korean case.

However, this model of approach does not apply to Iran, as Hersh's article eloquently makes clear -- the US is employing active measures in attempting to destabilize the regime in power in Iran.

Can America be stopped?

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 18, 2005 at 07:11 p.m.

I've been waking up earlier and earlier in recent days, and I don't quite know to what this cycle should be attributed. To a certain extent, I'm convinced there's an element of psychosomatic memory that's being subconsciously kicked into gear. My mind realizes that a new school year is approaching, and kicks my body into routine earlier. This is all possible.

This cycle could also be rooted in recent spates of heartburn, but that's unlikely since it's been very mild and sporadic. More on my morning drama later.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 17, 2005 at 04:31 p.m.

One class tomorrow, I'll love my Tuesday's this semester. Got my prescription glasses via UPS finally -- polarization makes the lenses a little darker, but not too much darker.

Pictures to come, off to get some tofu.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 17, 2005 at 11:50 a.m.

In my desire to kill some time, I spent the day out visiting with the locals, and headed out to the Bone Room in Albany afterwards. I also spent time enjoying some hot chocolate with J. at Au Coquelet. All the while, having brought my Elph (good foresight,) I took sundry images of the people and places I cross ways with here in Berkeley, and beyond. Enjoy folks.

Here we have my local Campus Market connoisseur of all things mundane yet utterly necessary. She is the woman I turn to when feel I pangs of wistfulness towards Arizona ice teas of sundry variety. She's Japanese, and spent a good deal of her life in Italy as a tour guide of famous places showing old white people around on their package tours. She's fluent in Japanese, Italian and Spanish -- a veritable wonderwoman.



Next up, we have Ziad (also known as Abu Mujahid, depending on what circles you run in,) a Palestinian storekeeper at a little haunt of mine -- Wheelan's Smokeshop on Telegraph and Bancroft. (Yes, it's a plug.) Often I wander into the shop and having been inured to the forceful swirls of scented tobacco floating in the air, have been able to make it to the other end of the shop without keeling over and requiring resuscitation. I spend a great deal of time in Wheelan's and have come to grow fond of many of the regulars, like a bum named Russel, for example. (Pictures of regulars soon, I swear.) Below, in a striking pose exuding "Marhaba!!" is Ziad, and the shady looking chap in the picture below his, sporting the Armani Exchange skully, is his brother Omar. (Abu al-Moqawama.)





Here we have one of the regulars who happened to be in the store, who's name eludes me. He's an Orange County native who moved to the Bay Area due to his life undergoing radical changes. (Ugh, women. What else?) We usually shoot the shit, and discuss his snorkeling excursions at Laguna Beach. Today we discussed the kind of women who eat at Las Brisas without men with them. We arrived at similar conclusions.



Yours truly is pictured in this shot, sporting a nigh finished Odwalla drink (Superfood, if you care.) with a cherry flavoured cigar clamped in between fingers. In a break from habit, I decided the ocassional cigar among friends is warranted. However, note the contradiction in play... health drink one moment, smooth flows of cherry flavored misty smoke the next.



Now we leave Berkeley and enter into Albany. There's a curious little store in Albany called the Bone Room. As you might imagine, they sell all manner of once-living items, including but not limited to fossils, animal and skeleton-incorporated jewellry and quite a number of handsome display cases featuring the fossilized remains of animals that went extinct, well, long before the rise of Qalam al-Yaqeen. Below are skulls arrayed in a row (actual skulls, not casts) that spoke to me. They caught my eye as I wandered around a bit with J. taking in all the, well, all the death. The one on the far right looks like grandmum. Note the gift-ribboned frog skeleton in its case on the shelve below and slightly to the right. Nothing quite says you care for someone more than a frog skeleton, in my book.



Finally, with the day out and about with J. coming to a necessary but unwelcomed close, I have a nice shot of my hot chocolate. (Large, 2.50, not bad huh?)

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 13, 2005 at 05:33 p.m.

Good news everyone, I just returned from the Office of Letters and Science and it turns out I'm eligible for graduation at the end of Summer 2005! Ofcourse, I'm going to stay and graduate at the end of Fall 2005 just because, well, why rush it? How many times in a person's life are they afforded the chance to live in Berkeley, and study at of all places, UC Berkeley?

Most people just don't get that chance, and I'm privileged to have gotten it.

I'm actually considering applying to Berkeley for grad. school, but I'd want to build up my candidacy first...

Other news --- my ex refashioned her website, unfortunately that spirit of reconstruction hasn't yet translated into her personal life. I really hope she settles down with a nice guy instead of hopping around from guy to guy. It would go a long way in rebuilding my respect and faith in her, though I doubt my respect and faith in her holds value in her eyes, should she decide to maintain a relationship with one guy, faithfully instead of bouncing around. Alas, I suppose there's always the chance. I mean, it could happen. Right?

Roomies aren't back from wherever they went over Winter, so I have the room all to myself. Just me, my laptop, my right hand and a slew of unopened Odwalla drinks.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 12, 2005 at 03:19 p.m.

Back in Berkeley, everyone. Finished unceremoniously unpacking all of my shit -- which was a joy to do. The act wasn't a joy, really, but what imbued it with a sense of joy and relief was the fact that I was doing it, in Berkeley -- away from the dreary monotony of Orange County.

The dorm is eerily empty, it felt good arriving and not being inundated by a throng of underclassmen wondering where their assholes are.

... but I love the kiddies.

Things to do today -- hunt down, corner and ensnare a counselor for a quick discussion on courses and so forth, then go by the copy central to see if they've begun pushing the crack cocaine of the intellegentsia -- readers. (They probably haven't even begun printing and binding them, lazy saps.) Then I've got to run down to the student center and have them point out to me the location of the Birge building.

I have no intention of working up a sweat running from Wheeler to the Campanile and back again to find this building. The semester hasn't even officially begun, I'm not going to be seen scurrying like a rodent in hopes of finding my magic cheese.

It's good to be back, ladies and gents.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 12, 2005 at 09:34 a.m.

Nothing says "We're ready to vote!" quite like the chief of police in Baghdad being killed along with his son.

Allawi seems set on sending the message to people that the "terrorists" aren't going to win, when obviously they already have -- their strikes are growing more accurate and more deadly. Instead of postponing the election by a month or two in order for the security situation to stabilize, rather he seems more intent on scoring political points. A few days ago a Bradley vehicle was obliterated exterminating about seven Marines, and today another Bradley was struck neutralizing two Marines. Now, these strikes are all positive developments in my view, and maybe one of the Marines killed was one whom my ex did, that'd make me even happier, but I'll take any Marines I can get, frankly.

I digress, it should however be interesting to see what America intends to do in the aim of countering the resistance.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 10, 2005 at 07:54 p.m.

New prescription glasses should arrive in a few days, thank god. I feel like it's been ages since my last pair broke.

I depart for Berkeley tomorrow, couldn't come soon enough. Off to the post office to apply for a US passport.

Adieu.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 10, 2005 at 11:46 a.m.

As America continues in vain to attempt to salvage its image in the world, notably among Muslims -- reality bears out the deceptive character of American intervention. From the beginning of America's aims to aid tsunami victims, up until now, I've harboured my doubts.

The character of America's mind can be easily -- and accurately -- described as a seethingly duplicitous one. This much is established by history, from its policy of dual-containment during the 1980-1988 Iran-Iraq war, to its hypocrisy in dealing with the Israelis and Palestinians. The results of American intervention tentatively point to two plausibile conclusions: a nation in the throes of schizophrenia is ravaging the world, not in control of itself, or the more disheartening conclusion -- America is planning and acting in line with a sinister geo-strategic agenda aimed at culturally, ideologically and financially enslaving the third world. Unfortunately, if history is any lesson, the latter conclusion seems the more plausible of the two.

America has consistently demonstrated a systematic disrespect of international law, humanitarian law and the moral vision held by the rest of the world. In accordance with this, America has invaded and plundered nations not by force, surely not by that 19th century notion of quaint domination -- no, rather it intends to achieve its ends by using its military might as but a single prong of a larger and more sophisticated design aimed at subverting socio-political and cultural sovereignties. This strategy is being borne out in Iraq.

The behavior of the world's remaining superpower, titan of tyranny and bastion of willfull ignorance -- endangers the peace of the world. America's dream is the world's nightmare.

With all of this in mind, I offer the following image which serves as a reminder of the nature of one country proving itself as the tyranny of all countries.

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 8, 2005 at 02:00 p.m.

Larry King's interviewing that adulterer Kobe Bryant about his decision to donate a thousand dollars for every basket made for an upcoming basketball event of some kind. I'm sure these events have names peculiar to the sport, but I don't know what it would be called.

I'm sure it has a name, a shoot out or something maybe. At any rate, it's possible his wife was running men on the side too, but that's another issue altogether. He got caught thank god, unfaithful bastard. He should've been tattooed with an "A" on both arms and on his ass for his infidelity.

However, in my eyes he has to some degree redeemed himself because of his willingness to donate a thousand per basket made. So atleast he's working his way up back to the bottom of the barrel. Atleast it shows he cares about what people think of him, by changing his behavior. In doing so, he validated and affirmed his intrinsic humanity.

So then, maybe, just one tattoo on his arm, maybe on his lower right arm, so every time he jacks off he's reminded of his disgrace.

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 6, 2005 at 06:52 p.m.

Alberto Gonzales is primed to be the next Attorney General, and is currently undergoing a grilling before the Senate concerning the release of a 2002 so-called "Torture Memo" concerning the Geneva Conventions.

The memo was a private exchange between lawyers and Gonzales where Gonzales stated that the Geneva conventions no longer apply in our day and age.

This memo was leaked by Newsweek and the storm began brewing shortly thereafter. Should the administration decide to officially discard the convention as a model for treatment of prisoners, then the real risk is run by America that its enemies (like, most of the rest of the world, for example) will also follow suit. Should this occur, any American civilian or military personnel captured, by say the Syrians, can be legally subjected to the most generous tokens of Syrian hospitality.

Now, Bush and Gonzales are both end-timer Christians who believe that in their war on Islam, no holds are barred. I know, it's touching. This is the primary motivation compelling this sort of behavior and thinking -- the type that justifies torture. Were such Christians true patriots, as they all claim to be (falsely,) then they would be very concerned about the lives of their soldiers and excising the Geneva Convention from the protocols of military conduct surely endangers both American military personnel and civilians. When memos are leaked such as this latest one, it goes a long way toward proving that such people are not patriots but rather, are simple religious fanatics who've shrouded themselves in the American flag in order to advance an absurd agenda.

Unfortunately, the gullibility of the American public, and possibly its complicity, has allowed Christian end-timers to assume political power. As British naturalist and scientist Richard Dawkins once put it: "In my country, we have creationists and fanatics, the only difference between us and America, is that ours don't hold political sway."

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 6, 2005 at 08:27 a.m.

Bush is giving a speech at a medical symposium in Illinois and all the major news outlets are covering it, so there's no escaping it. I wonder if it is a matter of utter necessity to have every single news station cover the same event. Surely, it's not a matter of urgent necessity. So, why then do it? Is it for the ratings? Is it a slow news day? You know, it isn't the same as having all the news outlets cover disasters or internatioanl events of pressing importance, that warrants full-spectrum coverage, to borrow and put a twist on the American military term "full-spectrum dominance."

Not only is such herd-like behavior a waste of time and money, but it bespeaks the falsity behind claims made by media proponents that individual agenda-setting is at play, or that media outlets operate as independent bastions of critical and independent reportage.

It seems, to my mind anyway, that coverage of a single event such as the aforementioned symposium by every cable news outlet serves as a dire omen.

There is an effect of amplification that takes place when an event of importance occurs, for example, and the details or even key points concerning the matter are misreported. One local news station (say, Jakarta TV) reports an event somewhere in the world which may or may not be replete with inaccuracies and then that report gets carried up the chain of command or reposnsibility to the national level. Once this occurs, international news outlets pick up the story and run with it by transmitting an unvetted message to the whole world.

In a matter of hours, this process can reach its conclusion and wind up on the desk of a BBC or ABC anchor complete with a glossy cover, thanks to the globalization of networked communication platorms. Once the message reaches the international audience, it becomes impossible to tread back down the path the information took along its route and vet it in a timely manner. Hours can go by before relevant changes are made in said reports, and by that time the misinformation being passed as informed reportage influences the thoughts and actions of dozens of millions.

Maybe this is an anti-Bush rant. I had half intended this entry to be such, but it seemed to take on a mind of its own. Maybe it's a rant against the monolithic media structure and how it does its business. Maybe, there's an element of venting in my entry, against the ills of globalization itself. I don't quite know.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 5, 2005 at 11:35 a.m.

Everyone's favorite Sheikh is at it again.

(He's my favorite Sheikh, anyway.)

Famous for his acts of incitement and denunciations, "The Mad Mullah of Finsbury Park," Sheikh Abu Hamza al-Masri (saws) has decided against attending a hearing concerning various criminal charges levelled against him.

Why?

He claims his toe nails are too long, thus preventing him from appearing before the court.

Who said Sheikhs don't have a sense of humor? Don't let Abu Hamza's beard, stern visage, one blind eye, and hook, fool you. No! He really does have a sense of humor, as the article linked, indicates.

(He has a hook as one of his hands was blown off in Afghanistan. Must've been picking roses again.)

In line with my plans of releasing a line of WWAHD (What Would Abu Hamza Do? Or "wud," the clothing might be called "wudwear." Ha.) clothing, it would be a good idea to include him in a pose plopped on the ground clipping his toenails. I've had the thought of having a t-shirt feature him shitting on the Magna Carta. It'd be a hit with the hispters across the pond, no?

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 4, 2005 at 06:38 p.m.

After having got off the phone with two universities on the East coast concerning their graduate admissions timetables, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I can begin applying, well, now. Ha. I'm halfway through both online applications and all that remains are the admissions essays and statements of purpose (not to mention sending them transcripts and recommendations, poo.)

This is exceedingly good news, as it means I don't really have to concern myself with deadlines all that much, since I essentially have an entire year to get it all done, and I'm halfway done now.

Dandy.

They're both Ph.D programs (what else?) and, honestly, there's a part of me that wouldn't mind it all that much if I didn't get in, as I really want to join the Peace Corps, first and foremost. I also think joining up would enhance my candidacy when I return and re-apply, friends concur.

(Maybe they just want to see Jordan swallow me whole and spit me out two years later? Ha. Bastards. Bless 'em.)

As I pen this note, an American 747 aircraft landed on Banda Aceh's only airport and... hit a water buffalo.

Ha, now that's funny. Welcome to the Third World, assholes.

I'm sure during the impact the content of the plane spilled out. Aid packages covered in bibles, for example, are probably littering the air strip.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 4, 2005 at 11:54 a.m.

Interesting events have been unfolding in our ever shrinking world as of late, a review is in order.

According to General Shawani, head of Iraq's intelligence service, the number of core insurgents is aroundabout 200,000 fighters, with 40,000 being hard core fighters.

(full-time occupation requires full-time resistance, no?)

If we were to consider the total number of fighters, including full-time and part-time, as well as volunteers, the number exceeds that of American soldiers presently occupying the country. Exceptional.

In a demonstration of the reach and efficacy of the Iraqi mujahideen, the Governor of Baghdad was slaughtered yesterday while in his SUV by way of gunmen opening fire on his vehicle. Another stooge of occupation smeared against the concrete. Ha.

In a remarkable departure from his normal groveling, Mahmoud Abbas, or "Abu Mazen," as he's also known, stated that "We are praying for the souls of our martyrs, who fell today to the shells of the Zionist enemy." Now, this comes on the heels of Mazen making a speech in Gaza where he was then carried on the shoulders of militants as though he were some kind of hero.

Someone's being taken for a ride, and it seems to be Israel and America.

On a more amusing note, a primitive tribe of islanders shot arrows, yes, arrows, at an Indian plane flying over Sentinel island mid-route to an aid drop. No injuries were reported. Apparently this lot of tribesmen survived the flood by monitoring animal behavior. How tribal. I always knew there were bastions of primitivism in the world, it seems I was right.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 4, 2005 at 08:44 a.m.

I'm watching Larry King Live at the moment, he's featuring Bush I and Clinton; they're discussing the disaster in Asia and existing relief infrastructure in place.

The last thing I remember one of those two corrupt blokes (Clinton, if I remember,) remarking on was something that had to do with the generosity of the American people.

(I stopped watching after this, Bush I reminded me of Bush II and my gut began to churn.)

Yes, they're certainly a generous lot when it comes to supporting unjust wars. On that point, I freely throw my support behind Clinton's remark. Whereas their leader had the brilliant insight to wait three days into the disaster before smearing his face on the screens of tv's across america like shit in a bowl, to tell us all how bad he was feeling that the little islanders were being washed up.

Prick fascist's remark rings somewhat hollow when he waits three days to make a comment on the affair. Smacks of brainless stupidity, it smacks of, well, honestly, typical Bush behavior. In other news, various asses have been pointing their laser pointers skywards in attempts to down aircraft during landing and take off.

What, are these people too lazy to use rifles? I mean, these people being rednecks after all, one would think they'd be used to using rifles, since all they do is molest each other and shoot weaponry.

I'm done with my winter break, it's time to get things moving up at Berkeley, I'm anticipating another decent semester, hopefully noticeably lacking in emotionally unhealthy women.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 3, 2005 at 06:06 p.m.

As the new year dawns, I wonder what it holds in store for me. I ponder what it plans to spring upon me, in the romantic sense -- an issue prompted by curiosity. Out of a similar curiosity, I visited my ex's site and over New Years out in the redneck sticks of San Diego, it seems she served the fitting role of bar slut, no doubt hitting on and sleeping with all the men shown in her photos listed.

So, I entertained the thought -- "What's it like to be garbage?" But was met with a churning gut, and a revolted conscience -- two very good things, as it reminds one that there is a shred of humanity left in oneself.

That's always good for self-confidence, I'm told.

Atleast I won't ever wonder if my ex's life is slow, since who turns away free? Especially free, no strings attached sex?

(Well, I do.)

As I cast my hopes to the wind, I yearn for the fulfilment of a true relationship, something that's been want in my life for a very, very long time. The love, the trust -- all that joy and merriment. As the old adage goes, time will test all relationships, and just like those relationships in my past which were flimsy falsehoods, much like the people I was in those relationships with, were equally flimsy and false -- so too shall future relationships be judged.

I suppose I yearn for something deeper.

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 1, 2005 at 10:28 p.m.

Hello everyone, happy New Year's Eve to all of you.

It should be with a certain sense of humility and restraint that we embrace and celebrate the coming of the new year, as countless have perished at the hands of nature's blind whims. The world community is united in its steadfastness to aid those in their darkest hours as those of us in advanced countries blithely celebrate the new year with all of its shining and dazzling trappings. There are those in this world as recent events have attested, whose new year will be shaped by the destruction witnessed in the last.

Out of respect, a moment of silence should be observed. Unfortunately, for people like my ex (both F. and Autumn) and millions like them, in whose lives an attitude of entitlement pervades all thought and action -- the world is rest assured by the reality that nothing will change, and as tragedy struck in this last year, so too shall it make its mark in the next. And as it does, these same people, and millions who exist in their likeness, will live lives of blind self-indulgence, unawares and, genuinely, unconcerned about the tragedy which has now molded the lives of so many thousands in this world.

This reality is a tragedy in and of itself, and things will only change on this side of the world if the suffering experienced by those lost to this terrible tragedy thousands of miles away, visit those here.

Amen.

posted by qalam on Friday, December 31, 2004 at 10:07 p.m.

Two nights ago, amidst the South-East Asia death toll hysteria, as people around the world were glued to their television sets in shock and disbelief -- I was calmly watching the news while comfortably reclined on a sofa with Sarah Brightman softly emanating from my laptop's speakers. And then things began to get strange.

"You take my breath away," went Sarah, "I couldn't agree more," retorted Mr. Tsunami.

My eyes turned up to greet the gaze of the television, and I saw camera footage of cocoa puffs being swept away into the sea, and I thought I was witnessing a cereal commercial going horribly, horribly wrong. And then the camera zoomed in as the anchor said that people were lost and bodies were washing ashore, and I thought "Wait, when do people eat cocoa puffs with water? What an absurd notion." It took a few minutes, then it all dawned on me.

I was shocked to see that they were actual people caught in a flood, and after seeing the footage of Norweigan tourists calmly protesting the fact that they were about to die at the hands of the wall of water chasing them down, I caught glimpses of SUV's and patio chairs holding hands floating past what was probably the Indonesian Ministry of Tourism.

All this while, there was a harsh yet somewhat jovial voice with a certainly noticeable homosexual inflection telling me that this really, really wasn't a cereal commercial.

I thought to myself, "Somone has to stop Richard Quest from tinging tragedy with homosexual theatrics." And so, I waited patiently as this slackjawed Englishman continued rambling and verbally swaggering around a bit more, and then he said it.

"Not only am I a raging homosexual... tsunami@cnn.com!!!"

And I thought, "Well, now it's about time I tell him how I feel about his 'broadcasting style'." So, I emailed him and I actually got a response. It is posted below. I never thought I'd get a response, alas, I did. It must be because he's English and gives every email a considerate response, irrespective of the intent of the sender. My intent was to insult an on-air CNN anchor, that was all.

From:  	"Quest, Richard" Richard.Quest@turner.com
To:  	"'cx@k.st'" 
Subject:  	RE: Aceh.
Date:  	Wed 12/29/04 12:42 AM	

Attachments	
Name	Type	Save	View	
Message  	text/plain	Save	 	

I am sorry you don't like my style of
broadcasting. We are reporting 60 thousand deaths. 
Its hardly a cause for cheer and smiles.
And what has sexuality got to do with anything ?

Richard Quest


-----Original Message-----
From: cx [cx@k.st]
Sent: 29 December 2004 08:35
To: tsunami@cnn.com
Subject: Re: Aceh.


Why does Richard Quest seem to be an unending source of faggotry on CNN?
Tell him to stop speaking as though he has a boxcutter in his rectum.

___________________________________________________________
Powered by the worlds shortest email address ... http://www.k.st

posted by qalam on Thursday, December 30, 2004 at 02:44 p.m.

This article recently came to my attention, its author is an RPCV, or Returning Peace Corps Volunteer. I felt this article should be shared in its entirety with those who view this site regularly. The women who view this site came to mind, as it contains many poignant observations about whether or not women are actually liberated in Western culture, and to what extent. This article also discusses the myriad interpretations of modesty in Islam, from the Afghans to the Muslim Tuareg. The article also makes the important point of mentioning that the Qur'an makes no mention of scarves, burqas and so forth, but only mentions "modesty." I hope those who read this article find it as illuminating as I did.

By DEBRA MCKINNEY
October 22, 2002

The burka blindsided me. At a recent fund-raiser to build schools for girls in Afghanistan, I found it on a table among other silent-auction donations and was stunned.

It was beautiful.

Auction organizer Nathaniel York caused a stir when he'd purchased it in a shop in Sheberghan in northern Afghanistan months ago. He heard women giggling from beneath their burkas, amused at his presence in a shop for women. Now the burka is on the other side of the world, being auctioned to the highest bidder. This winter, the money it raises will return to Sheberghan to help educate the village's girls.

Hydrangea-blue and covered in subtle, embroidered designs, the fabric's softness surprised me. But then there was that hollow, haunting place for the eyes. I wanted to try it on, to sense feeling sequestered in that shapeless fabric. But I didn't feel brave enough.

To those who wear it by choice, the burka is a symbol of faith, modesty and protection. But to the Western mind-set, it symbolizes oppression. For five years under the Taliban, wearing a burka was mandatory in public. Agents from the Department for the Propagation of Virtue and the Suppression of Vice enforced the dress code with beatings or worse.

The burka has taken a beating in Western eyes. Time magazine referred to it as a "body bag for the living." British columnist Polly Toynbee called it "a public tarring and feathering of female sexuality."

If the burka is a symbol of anything, it's our own failure to respect people whose values are different than our own, who make choices unlike the ones we'd make.

Now that the Taliban are gone, many women have flung aside their burkas with tremendous relief. And many have not. The burka may seem a major concern to those of us who don't understand it, but to those living in a bombed-out nation, it undoubtedly takes a back seat to issues like poverty, health care and education.

However you view it, the burka evokes powerful and conflicting emotions among those who live on the other side of its seams. It certainly did for the three Anchorage, Alaska, women who bid on the one from Sheberghan.

Pat Kennedy, a retired lawyer, was among them.

"I was sort of hoping it would disappear from the face of the Earth, and then it would become a historical object," she said of her reason for bidding. Other than that, she wasn't entirely sure why she wanted it.

Tam Agosti-Gisler, another bidder that night, said seeing the burka drove home how difficult it would be for her to live beneath one.

"It's so much clearer once you have it in your hands," she said.

Agosti-Gisler, who teaches at a middle school, wanted the burka to help promote her students' fund-raising efforts for York's project. She also wanted to give them the chance to try it on so they might better appreciate the freedoms they have.

Federal attorney Deborah Smith was the one who took the burka home that night. She was a little nervous about talking about it. "It's not part of my belief system," she said, "but it's part of some people's belief system."

She felt drawn to it, yet a little afraid of it, worried about seeming disrespectful without meaning to.

Smith waited until she took it home that night to slip it over her head.

What was it like? She paused, searching for words to describe the experience. She couldn't find them.

"I don't think we can really understand," she said. "A woman in America can never really know because we have the option of taking it off."

Khadijah Sidiqi, a former Anchorage teacher living outside Philadelphia, is married to a man from Afghanistan and has converted to Islam. The Koran speaks of being modest, she said, but doesn't say anything about women covering their faces. This is, however, how various followers have interpreted it.

In her book "Nine Parts of Desire," American journalist Geraldine Brooks describes the wide variations of Islamic dress, including the nomadic tribes of the Algerian Sahara, known as Tuareg, who "hold to the tradition that it is men who should veil their faces after puberty while women go barefaced. 'We warriors veil our faces so that the enemy may not know what is in our minds, peace or war, but women have nothing to hide' is how one Tuareg man explained this custom."

The term "hijab" refers to the variety of styles Muslim women use to cover up with scarves and other pieces of fabric. The burka, specific to Afghanistan, is one of the most conservative forms of veiling.

Burka, burcka, burqa, burqua - there are many spellings of the word.

"Nobody in Afghanistan calls it a burka, I assure you," Sidiqi said. There, it's known as a chadari or chadris.

The burka has meant different things at different times. In an earlier form, before it became associated with religion, women wore it for status, according to Jan Carolyn Hardy, who lived in Afghanistan for several years as a Peace Corps volunteer in the early '70s.

"It was a symbol of a woman not having to work," she said. "She didn't have to have too much eyesight if she went outside because she really didn't need to. She had people who were tending to her. It was really considered quite an honor."

Iranian women wear a head-to-toe covering called the chador, although faces can be exposed. In the 1930s, the shah banned it in an attempt to modernize the country. Women who ventured outdoors risked having the garment yanked off or cut up with scissors, were forbidden from using public transportation and were sometimes kicked out of stores. Devout women, especially the elderly, felt too exposed and vulnerable without them. So rather than liberating them, the ban made many women prisoners of their homes.

Perhaps we do have our own version of the burka, a psychological one, living in a society where a woman's worth goes up in direct proportion to her physical beauty. A young Canadian convert to Islam, Naheed Mustafa, is among those who've written about this flip side of oppression.

"Wearing the hijab has given me freedom from constant attention to my physical self," she wrote in an essay titled "My Body Is My Own Business."

"True equality will be had only when women don't need to display themselves to get attention and won't need to defend their decision to keep their bodies to themselves."

Maybe this is the real reason I was drawn to that beautiful blue burka from Sheberghan. It's forcing me to think in ways I never have before.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 29, 2004 at 03:41 p.m.

"...And in the land of Baghdad, Abu Jihad was enjoying a nap..."

Yesterday, a blast took place claiming 28 lives when Iraqi police feeling the need to demonstrate their penchant for suicidal stupidity, raided the house of a militant in Baghdad.

The militant -- awakened and in no mood apparently to entertain the throng of local Akbars milling about from the street corner carpet store who were suddenly hired by Americans to be police -- decided to vent his displeasure at being unable to get a nap in midday, on police who it can be ascertained were something less than stealthy ninjas when conducting this raid.

Perhaps they yelled from afar:
"Come out with your hands up Abu Jihad, don't force us to come in and get raped!"

Upon the lack of response, the gaggle of Iraqi police lollyfaggoted their way up to Abu Jihad's doorstep and promptly read off their arrest warrant to his closed wooden door while grumbling about the midday heat:
"Abu Jihad, by decree of our Crusader masters we hereby place you under arrest."

Abu Jihad was obviously in no mood to have a slice from the "you're under arrest" apple pie.

The Iraqi police have demonstrated their adept competency and deft skill at consistently being blown up like clockwork, and have once again not disappointed the cheering crowds which were no doubt placing wagers as to who would first catch a piece of shrapnel to the noodle: Akbar, Habib or Rasul, as a result of running around like women and knocking on doors like girl scouts raising money for a new tooth for little Tommy.

It seems the Crusaders let their underling Iraqi police scramble for opportunities to be blown up, it seems they're so good at it that I'm surprised long queues haven't formed around the block with Iraqi police taking numbers and loyally waiting their turn for their assigned piece of shrapnel to the skull or bullet to the ass. I mean, the Iraqi police seem to only do one thing effectively and consistently, almost professionally -- and that's getting their asses shot up or blown to pieces on a daily basis.

In fact, I'm of the firm belief that they've achieved such proficiency at catching insurgent bullets and bombs that they are able to choreograph precisely who catches what bullet, where, and how dramatic his body's jerking, twisting and spinning around will be.

For example, recently a police station was stormed, and as usual, like clockwork, the police upon seeing that their 1 o'clock schedule stated "Insurgent attack and looting," all 12 Iraqi police officers in the station formed an orderly single file line (with no pushing, shoving or name calling,) marched to the front of the station and kneeled in a row behind the doorway entrance with such precision and exactingly accurate alignment and height so that when the doors were swung open by insurgents they didn't even have to take a single step forward as all of the dicks of the insurgents with mathematical precision naturally and perfectly slipped into the mouths of the twelve kneeling Iraqi police officers.

It's both an art and science, a perfection of confluence in order and responsibility that nature itself would find difficulty replicating. The Iraqi police with the deepest throats were obviously positioned closer to the door so the more well-endowed insurgents leading the group would find their dicks perfectly matched with the throats of the Iraqi police officers in question.

It's a brilliant strategy on the part of the police and it bespeaks their natural role in Iraqi society.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 29, 2004 at 12:25 a.m.

Spent the day with an old friend, Saf, at a local Starbucks and went over life and its vicissitudes, a shot below.

This image is one I took from Faune's living room over in Berkeley --

posted by qalam on Tuesday, December 28, 2004 at 06:45 p.m.

In the aftermath of the South East Asian tragedy, the death toll has skyrocketed to 22,000 dead. This staggering number is one which is as perplexing as it is mind-boggling. There were monsoon warning systems in place, there were national hurricane systems interlinked and online regionally. What was hindering these countries from pursuing a tsunami warning system in line with the Japanese model?

Can lessons only be learned once the blows have landed?

In this instance, 22,000 blows? All of these lives snuffed out in moments, and the international community is only donating .01%-.02% of their annual GDP's. It's a case of unwarranted international miserliness; had some tragedy occured on a similar scale, say in Africa, I suppose the trickle of pennies which would've amounted to "aid" would have depressed me further still. It's racist, it's economic prejudice and it's appalling and reprehensible. So much for so-called "Western civilization" walking the walk. Rather, talk, it seems, is all that matters. Declarations of aid and unity pour forth, but when it comes down to the nitty gritty, it's all ink and no action.

Raf, Vina and I spent some time enjoying a quasi-picnic today, which was interesting. Of the people who said they would show up on Vina's end, no one did, alas 'twas I, Raf and Vina who were left to consume a seemingly unending supply of potato salad and fajitas. It was a quaint way to kill a day. Raf did most of the consuming and I did most of the flirting, gay-oriented humor seems to drive him insane, so naturally I kept it up the whole time.

I imagine tomorrow I'll meet up with Kevin, an old Rancho friend and kill the day in Orange driving around with him. He's always been a confidant and friend, who knows my habits and my personality, I view him almost as a brother. No time is better spent than time spent catching up with old friends, and I'm hellbent on seeing as many friends as possible during my stay here.

I've caught a cold. It's true -- I can't remember the last time I had a cold, yet here I am, struck down. I'm certainly not bed-ridden, but covered at the moment in two blankets and with kleenex strewn about to my left. I was blowing my nose at the picnic today and I think it came to the attention of Raf and began to aggravate him. Whenever I'd blow my nose, he'd stop and make some grumbling noise designed to mimic or mock Arabic, then go back to devouring his allotment of potato salad, (an allotment which I viewed to be unfairly divvied in his favor, possibly due to his unending hunger). He seems to always moan about his hunger, atleast Autumn, my ex for example, was large yet never consistently bemoaned or deplored any state of hunger she found herself enduring.

Recently, the largest Sunni party in Iraq has abandoned its intention to participate in the January elections and has stated that its decision to remain uninvolved is the result of the overall security situation in Iraq disintegrating.

This brings many interesting issues to mind which merit note. This lack of involvement on the part of the Sunni bloc would ensure a certain Shi'a majority victory, but the lack of engagement on the part of the Sunni bloc, essentially is an attempt by them, in my view, to invalidate the results of any election, elections in which they know should they even participate would even then, nonetheless, result in a Shi'a majority victory. With this knowledge in mind, the Sunni bloc has chosen disengagement to participation. This act on the part of this party is one aimed at destabilizing the political discourse and process in play.

Unfortunately for the Sunni of Iraq, they no longer enjoy the aegis and comfort provided them by their Ba'athist cohorts in the echelons of Iraqi government. Unfortunately for the Sunni of Iraq, the democratic mechanism ensures majority rule, and in Iraq, the Sunni who compose a band across the middle of the country compose a meager and rough 20% of the population. This bodes poorly for them as it puts them at the tender, ever so tender mercies of the Shi'a. The Shi'a who have been the perennial targets of Sunni power at the height of Ba'athist power, will now hopefully ensure their own safety then set about the merry task of obliterating any chance, now or into the future, of Sunnis ever controlling the reins of power and rule in Iraq.

Nothing would make me happier than seeing former Ba'athists (and Sunni agitators in general,) dragged through the streets Mogadishu-style by Shi'a militants whose tender mercies would make al-Zarqawi blush in humility.

By invading Iraq, America has ensured a permanent Iranian presense and influence in Iraqi affairs. I view this engagement as extremely positive as it would allow for a pan-national Shi'a Islamic alliance between the two nations. This is the ultimate ideal outcome, one which inspires fear in the heart of American Crusaders, yet, was their intention not to bring democracy to Iraq? So, if Iraq democratically chooses to have iron ties with Iran, it should be no business of the West, as it would all be done democratically. Yet the concerns of the Crusaders about democratic ideals taking hold in Iraq belie their actual aim: to create a Muslim state that's weak and incapable of defying the whims of the Crusaders and Israel, a state which is democratic in name only and run by a puppet like Allawi to ensure a permanent stooge state for the West to do with as it wishes.

This outcome is unacceptable, and unfortunately for the Zionist Crusaders, the Shi'a would agree with me, for good reason. The only option for the Crusaders is to corrupt the Shi'a political elite (who are also the religious elite and are therefore immune to corruption, something which fills Christian eyes with envy as even the most devout Christian leaders in the West are a generally quite corrupt and deceptive lot).

Well, two options exist, actually. A Sunni government to control the Shi'a or a passive Shi'a government which is corrupted by the West. The Crusaders have attempted to corrupt Islam and its core, al-Qur'an, since Muhammad received the Revelation from the angel Jibreel -- and they have failed. For over 1,400 years, the Crusaders have failed to corrupt al-Qur'an, because the words are immutable and were revealed in one unified language, whereas with Christianity three languages (Greek, Latin and Aramaic) were used and therefore has allowed for the Christian religion to have its validity nullified by billions of interpretations, either neither wholly wrong nor wholly right.

The case makes itself as far as the divinity of Christianity is concerned, but I digress.

The Crusaders have failed for over 1,400 years, and they will once more be faithful to that record of success, and fail again in our modern age by attempting to corrupt Islamic Shi'ism in Iraq. To the Crusaders: good luck, we are the truest believers, not the munafiqeen and fasiqeen.

Their failure will be even more concrete and sharply defined as Iran, a beautiful bastion of Shi'ism ensures that her neighbor goes not astray, not that the Iraqi Shi'a need it, but it's always nice to have brotherly love and support.

Another poignant note, recently the Sunnis attacked al-Hakim of SCIRI in a bid to assassinate him. Well, they missed thank god, as al-Hakim will be running in the election and has the blessings of all top Shi'a clerics. I hope his guardsmen ensure his safety throughout this arduous and uncertain process. The Sunni in attacking him have demonstrated a loss of focus in their aim. They should be attacking the people responsible for allowing Shi'ism to rise in Iraq politically if they despise it so much: the Crusaders.

One can't go getting lost and losing focus, it's a perilous little viper pit we live in these days.

posted by qalam on Monday, December 27, 2004 at 09:35 p.m.

I've spent the last two days and most of the evening hours out with old friends that I've been meaning to catch up with but haven't been afforded the chance due to the distances in place between all of us, and the varying and possibly conflicting schedules.

Thankfully, the last time I was local, I did manage to spend time with old and indispensable friends -- as I thought to myself as the plane landed, wistfully stroking my chin: "It's been too long." The last visit entailed concluding my citizenship affairs, as faithful readers recall.

It seems in the days I've been offline, the world (not to speak of my own life, for that matter,) has been in a tumultuous state. On Sunday, near Sumatra, an 8.9 (9.0 according to the BBC, 8.9 according to Reuters,) earthquake struck -- the resulting tsunamis have so far claimed in the region of 12,600 lives. The damage and devastation is utterly unbelievable, of the nations most direly affected, four countries have lost in excess of 4,000 citizens. This destabilizing and unpredicted event sent tsunamis all the way to the Eastern coast of Somalia, and has affected all of South East Asia. The question then becomes: Is there an increased likelihood of aftershocks?

The economic and social destruction is phenomenal, and of the affected countries, Indonesia and Sri Lanka must contend with rebel activity as well, and security concerns pertaining to whether or not this natural event will be used as an opportunity to fuel political instability by means of military activity directed against the central governments of these nations. Sri Lanka must contend with the LTTE, Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, who are no doubt busily engaged in rescue and recovery efforts of their own. The Karen rebels of Aceh and nearby regions within Indonesia also pose similar threats as the LTTE to central authorities, however this movement is also engaged in rescue and recovery operations. When a natural event of such destructive proportions occurs, nature delineates not one iota between "terrorists" and legitimate authorities.

I will refrain from making claims that this disaster will be used as a pretext by the IMF and Worldbank to further sink their collective meathooks into the economic flesh of affected nations to further ensure and maintain their enslavement and fiscal bondage. I said I would refrain, right? See? I did, ahem.

On the European continent, far from the shining blue oceans of South East Asia -- the Ukraine is experiencing revolutionary progress towards a legitimate and national democratic platform. A second runoff Presidential election has been held and Prime Minister Yushchenko facing the incumbent President, looks set to lose, according to exit polls. For more information, a political operative I know on the ground elucidates with personal flair, the lovely Natalia explains at her Indiscretions.

On the personal front, F. and I broke up -- as noted a few posts below, as I felt her dependency on Zoloft to be hindering a deeper emotion connection between us. The seperation might as well have happened sooner as I had no intention of marrying her and would have been forced to leave her anyway after my education at Berkeley came to a conclusion. She needed the anti-depressant, and I knew the reasons why, which is why I do not fault her for her use of it, but to be in an emotionally desensitized state is in no way conducive to a relationship. Another relationship has come and gone, and it's to be written off to experience, rightly so.

The pillow calls to me.

posted by qalam on Sunday, December 26, 2004 at 08:17 p.m.

Bad news all, F. and I are no longer an item. C'est vrai et c'est la vie. I'm single again, and it's been a while. I landed in Long Beach a few hours ago, and will remain local until early January -- until then, I'll have ample time to catch up with old (and new) friends.

I finally have the wifi access I used to bitch and moan over here at my cousin's, no hacking necessary, I merely turned off the default crypto switch on the hub panel, and voila -- fruit of effort, doled out in high bandwidth. Before, I tried picking up wifi keys on the network to no avail, then I tried the direct route -- entering in the netowrk key found on the bottom of the hub: no dice.

After finally turning off the crypto -- the light has shone upon me.

posted by qalam on Friday, December 24, 2004 at 05:59 p.m.

It seems that, according to the latest open information, the explosion at the Merez Crusader base was indeed the work of a person. One of the ranks of the noble mujahideen martyred himself in the aim of ensuring the Crusaders pay for every breath they take in the land of Karbala.

May he who carried out this noble and couragous assault be held among the ranks of those truest in faith, in the ranks of the highest esteemed fighters, and be accepted by God as a supreme martyr. His testament has struck terror in the heart of the occupying force, and the martyrs of tomorrow have been inspired by the martyrs of today, to follow in the footsteps of liberation and resistance, and to eject the brazen occupier from Iraq.

Like the Satanic enemy Israel, has not and will never see the end of martyrdom operations carried out against it, neither will its slave, America, see a future for itself in Iraq without martyrs, like phantoms -- faceless yet everywhere -- materializing and with the flip of a switch, testifying their superiority of divine faith in the face of the Christian mongrel horde.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 22, 2004 at 06:57 p.m.

Good news breaks from the Iraqi front today -- the mujahideen have carried out a lethal strike against the fasiqeen Crusaders who have come to Iraq in the aim of killing people, spreading their perverted Christianity and perverted morality.

This morning, Iraqi time, noble mujahideen in Mosul launched a deadly attack against the Merez Crusader base. It seems that either an explosive device, or mortars fell on a dining tent at the Crusader base and obliterated it, ma'ashallah.

The current body count stands at 18, oh yes, count them... 1, 2, 3, 4... 15... 18 Crusaders exterminated by a single deadly strike. When I read the news this morning, I was overjoyed by this act aimed at defending the sovereignty of Iraq. This day in California hasn't even begun yet, but its fruit of victory has already arrived in my eyes.

Were the day to end today, this very morning, it would be seen by me as a fulfilled day.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 22, 2004 at 08:53 a.m.

Today was the last day of finals -- PS3, nailed it to the cross and left it bleeding. Yes, I blew a hole so wide in the ass of that final you could have all the assholes and motherfuckers in Orange County stand holding hands from one end to other, and you could connect the Philippines to Alaska. That's how wide that hole was.

So, now I'm living at F.'s apartment until I come down to Southern California (don't get me started) and on my way there, I took a few images of this one chap, whom I've named Crazy Abe. He stands there, on whatever it is he stands on and preaches doom and gloom while mixing it up with an abundant amount of Bush hating, which I love the man for. Today, his theme was the holidays. His message was precisely this: "Happy happy happy. Happy holidays, happy happy happy." Rinse and repeat, that was the message in its entirety.

So, I thought to myself, "Well, I've got the Elph on me, let's snap away and show my readers a colorful aspect of the campus." And so, here it is -- enjoy all.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, December 21, 2004 at 05:41 p.m.

T-minus one day.

I'm sitting in a library across Latimer and Lewis, but I don't know the name of the library. This rarely happens -- that I walk into buildings of which the name draws blank. I'm penning this note via AirBears, the campuswide WiFi network, and seem to be getting rather good speed. I have my history final in approximately four hours and I've been doing a decent job of studying for it.

Then I... "zone out."

This is an interesting experience which I think I should relate. It happens whenever I begin concentrating for extended periods -- then things begin to happen. Things which normally wouldn't attract my attention, do. Before I wrote this entry I had my eyes sternly grilling my paper and then the shiny part of the wrapper of a Harvest health bar took my attention away.

I looked at my watch, and it read: "12:28" and when I stopped zoning out at the wrapper, fifteen minutes had gone by, where my brain was totally blanked out yet also in a quasi-meditative state. I was lucid... but not... quite. Often times if I stare long enough at a rough textured surface after having studied for a long period -- the incongruous points on the wall, begin flowing.

No, I've never done acid. This used to happen when I was younger, alone in my room in my apartment in LA, staring at the ceiling for no real reason beyond ameliorating the effects of boredom. It happened then, too.

This is the reason I'm penning this dry entry, to perhaps get my mind off of playing games of perception and onto focusing on something concrete: like my laptop's keyboard, or the bright blue LEDs, blinking and flashing at me...

Wait, shit, there, it almost went again. This would actually be some fun if I weren't pressed to study for a history final that's dryer than mummy-wrappings. I miss my dog, too, for some reason.

So here I am, a latop in front me, papers to all sides, a pen nearby and my cell phone charging next to me, all at a table in some random library. It's a shame my healthbar is only half eaten at this point. I suppose had I eaten it and disposed of the wrapper, I wouldn't have zoned out. But, I think something else would've caught my attention, like the Gothic lamp to my far left and its remarkable silver linings.

There's something about mohagany tables with university library table lamps on them, that scream elegance. This lamp is elegance -- embodied. If I ever get married, I'd like for the girl to be taller though, sans the silver lining. If she had a power cord though, that would be interesting.

The quality of this discourse today has eroded and been degraded by my ennui. I'm comparing a lamp to a future wife, that's when you know it's time to do something else. I don't even feel like I should launch into a long-winded political tirade, either -- something I'm normally accustomed to doing. The boredom makes me numb, and what normally would flare my temper or attention, seems to sway me not an inch.

Humor always livens me up though, I could for example, push someone into traffic. She or he would have to be blond, thin, ditzy and look as though he or she were from Orange County. That would cheer me up right quick. So would my ensuing escape with me laughing hysterically and sprinting naked down Bancroft towards Shattuck.

Wait, naked?

posted by qalam on Monday, December 20, 2004 at 12:38 p.m.

Apologies all around (BCL, Nekki inter alia) -- recent journal inactivity due to my studying for finals and the appropriation of an exorbitant amount of time towards merely milling about.

I also got my new digital camera, a Canon Elph, which is what I took those airport shots with, a post prior.

The finals in question have to do with a history and a dumbed-down stats class. (I'm not good with numbers, beyond being able to count how many times I've flipped a driver off today in Oakland and Alameda while in F.'s car. The number is three, two in Alameda.)

Got the Elph for $USD224 including shipping, the Elph retails for $USD399, so it was a merry deal to be transacted. Where are such deals to be found? (Here come's a plug, everybody, brace your nuts.) eBay!!! Now, someone cue the GAP television commerical music, ta ta, ta ta TA! Ooh! Aah!! Shazzam! Jesus.

Recent sad news which has befallen Qalam al-Yaqeen -- I broke my regular prescription glasses, so all I have to see with are my prescription DKNY (another plug, so what?) sunglasses. F. and I will both get two new pairs after finals, since hers are falling apart.

I was walking up a hill with my glasses in my right pocket -- and I never had a case for them, so don't try to fuck me on that count -- and they snapped in two. I heard it happen, the second I heard it -- a smile broke across my lips and a "Motherfuck." was to be heard by all the children and their parents on Hearst and Oxford, as the kiddies and fogeys huddled around to watch the demise of Qalam al-Yaqeen. I screamed it, halted, rammed a fist into a pocket and pulled out, NAY, not a single pair of glasses, but a single pair, in two.

Woe.

posted by qalam on Sunday, December 19, 2004 at 03:59 p.m.

At my aunt's house at the moment, penning this entry via a cousin's computer. I'll arrive in Oakland sometime tomorrow morning after a successful visit to have my citizenship issue finalized. It's official, I'm a US citizen. I'm still in mourning. Some federal judge made some idiotic remark having to do with 9/11, during the ceremony. She said something akin to "They hate us for our freedoms and free press..."

I was about to stand up and blurt "Gee, those Canadian buildings are still standing, and the Canadians have more freedoms than we do!" -- until I realized I hadn't come all this merry two-year long way merely to piss some worthless federal judge off and get kicked out. She should've, in all sincerity, taken a bullet to the noodle for her ignorant garbage-spewing. The ceremony took place today at the LA Convention Center, and I just drove back from LA. God, I hate traffic.

Before I left for my trip, I was lodged at the Oakland airport, gate 9 to be exact. I was engaging in some airport Paganism, as I had my fortunes read. Below are a few pictures -- two of a session "Helen" was having with some portly African-American gent, and the two shots of the cards from overhead are from my session with her. Can anyone read these? She was spookily dead on with everything she said -- not close, but dead on. Someone cue the Twilight Zone theme song.

posted by qalam on Friday, December 17, 2004 at 06:32 p.m.

In a spasm of madness, Bush recently stated: "We will continue to make it clear, to both Syria and Iran that, as will other nations in our coalition that meddling in the internal affairs of Iraq is not in their interests."

He states this, while he himself, all the while, is actually guilty of invading the country -- a sovereign state whose legitimacy was acknowledged by all policy bodies, globally. So, in his pissant small brain -- does an invasion somehow not constitute a mere humble and lowly form of meddling? Is he himself not guilty of the same offenses of which he accuses others of being guilty? The hypocrisy makes one's mouth froth in tooth-gnashing disbelief.

If anything, the invasion of Iraq not only gives Syria and Iran the opportunity to engage, but the license to engage the instability in the neighboring regime. The US invaded Iraq not in the aim of "liberation," but in the aim of culturally, socially and religiously enslaving the country and its people. In doing so, allowing the nation to be perennially victimized by international policy and economic instruments and their associated policy bodies, not to mention global Capitalist enterprise, all of which bend at the whim of American -- and generally Western -- hegemony.

America wants unimpeded access to Iraq's natural resources, and it attempts to achieve this nefarious neo-colonialist design by installing a puppet regime tasked with the responsibility of pacifying the populace. By pacifying the populace, over time the puppet administration or whatever body replaces it, will be able to mold the people's perceptions and positions into more pro-Western and America-amenable stances. This is a gradual process of recolonizing Iraq. This isn't a process of "winning hearts and minds," it's a process of reshaping a country with the aim of subjugating it in the future to market forces, Western social customs and the Western perversion of Christianity. The "West" would love nothing better than to see one street after another, as far as the eye can see, littered with Starbucks' and McDonalds'.

These are the unstated goals of America, they reflect its vision for Iraq. Would the natural corollary of this invasion not lead one to accept the validity of the actions of others who wish to fall in line with US patterns of aggression and also manipulate Iraq for their own respective agendas? Therefore, how can America demand of other states to cease in the pursuit of their own agendas in Iraq -- all the while the US is doing exactly that: pursuing its cultural, religious and market interests.

This is hypocrisy, rank, frothing and unbridled, brimming over and spilling onto the moral tablecloth. It's like a precariously perched cup of coffee -- only worse... much worse.

It is the view of Qalam al-Yaqeen that Iran, Syria and any other state who wishes to frustrate American imperialist hegemony in Iraq, vigorously do so -- unrelentingly.

Iran and Syria have been repeatedly targeted by America, both politically through diplomatic and social channels and economically by way of the freezing of assets and by means of its own clout, ensuring that the mechanisms of the international marketplace of trade and commerce are deliberately restructured to be, by design, hostile and unfavorable toward states which America has threatened. These states then find themselves in the crosshairs of American cruise missiles and in the crosshairs of the IMF chequebook.

It seems now, however, that the opportunity to bloody the Western, namely American nose, presents itself in a neatly wrapped pinata, brightly coloured, labelled "Iraq."

Now, the Iranians and Syrians admittedly lack the same military leverage that America can muster because unlike America, Syria and Iran don't steal the best minds of other countries. That issue aside, granted these military shortcomings, these two countries can counteract the aggression of America towards them, respectively, by combatting American measures in place on the ground in Iraq.

As the internationl coalition of the willing, comprising America, Britain, Honduras and Macedonia continue to fight the good imperialist fight -- the rest of the world will not join in to stabilize the arena as America experiences hell in Iraq in attempting to quell uprising after uprising. It is due to this that America finds itself in a pretty pinch, between the thumb of Iran and the forefinger of Syria. This is the opportunity of which I spoke earlier.

Now, for Syria and Iran, comes the opportunity, the license granted and the motivation galvanized, to square accounts with America in every respect. These two states in collusion can reorient their own intelligence services into creating, operating and maintaining networks of resistance groups and directing existing resistance groups in the overarching aim of committing mayhem and murder against the imperialist West. Bravo, I say, bravo doubly over.

In fact, these two states are doing just that. The have seen the opportunity before them, and they have indeed seized it by the throat -- American intelligence reveals this, yet what can America do? Nothing. Its troops mired in Iraq, it lacks the might to strike at two new nations -- it also lacks the political will and lacks the requisite international support.

Even Britain, the third head of the devil itself, has stated that any other extended military actions directed against other states would not be supported by Britain until Iraq is constituted as a stable democratic regime -- this, suffice it to say, will not happen any time soon. Until then, America can be used as a punching bag by Iran and Syria, covertly ofcourse, and with each blow landed -- international criticism against America mounts, support dwindles and the Christian fascists who are this administration are made more desperate, like dogs that have been shot once in the leg, once in the ass and once in the back -- we wait to see the dying breath of its exertions exhaled, in Iraq.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 15, 2004 at 06:10 p.m.

It seems Qalam al-Yaqeen is in such a sorry state of affairs that it's in danger of having its standing droop to that of the ignominious level of muck and disrepute normally characterized by an academic journal.
Note:

I need paper about depleted uranuim effects onthe iraqi
peoples bbecause the wars with thanks me
seja faez hasan | Email | Homepage | 12.15.04 - 1:43 am | #

Our friend "hasan" needs more than a paper on the subject of interest, but perhaps a class or two on prose, grammar and, well, intelligence -- but, unfortunately, I don't think they teach that. Onwards however, a class on basic English composition should address his or her ills, but perhaps the person is drunk?

However, what drunk person would in the midst of an alcoholic stupor, suddenly realize the need for a paper on policy? It's unheard of, really.

Therefore, I feel it safe to conclude that the person who left the note was neither drunk nor insane, but merely suffering from a mild distemper.

Let us make no mistake or error of judgement about it -- this note stands as testament to the kind of brilliant and innovative minds this site attracts on a nigh daily basis.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 15, 2004 at 10:26 a.m.

I've spent days on end here at F's apartment, and the reason for my lack of recent journal activity has to do with the sporadic wifi coverage the apartment gets.

This entry comes by way of F.'s laptop and a hardline feed to the internet, joy.

I just finished a ten page paper on the role of the state in both pre- and post-Cold War eras with a focus on two issues having to do with the role of force and terrorism, broadly. It was exhaustive, and I was compelled to do something hitherto unknown in my forays into paper-writing land -- think. Yes, this paper required actual, legitimate thinking on my part. It was quite unnerving.

At any rate, I'm still proofing the paper and beginning to wind down.

posted by qalam on Monday, December 13, 2004 at 11:06 p.m.

In an example of old world romanticism butting heads with new world expediencies -- the authorities of Verona have slapped a ban on lovestruck people leaving notes on a balcony made famous by Shakespeare's 16th century play, Romeo and Juliet.

"What's so wrong with that, Qalam al-Yaqeen? Don't the dago bastards like the kiddies?" you might ask.

Well grasshopper, these soft-headed, drooly-mouthed and sparkly-eyed lovebirds, in experiencing fits of euphoric and towering emotional ecstasy while being mentally besieged by grand vistas of dandelion fields and dancing smiley faces -- have affixed their private scribbles replete with scandalous allure, to be certain -- to this famed balcony, with gum.

Now the Italian authorites who have Verona in their charge have decided to erect a glass screen in front of the balcony to have messages beamed to it for display sent by emailing and text-messaging masses. Atleast, that's the plan. Nice plan, no? And the plan can be ruined by Italian versions of poopjoys like me, who with a decently sized and respectably shaped cobblestone and a good arm, can shatter the text-messaging love frenzy of the masses. Not that I would be held responsible for countless digital love notes never coming to fruition, then again -- it's just a glass screen, after all.

Gum, the Italians have asserted, is destroying the facade of the balcony and slowly wearing away this treasured icon. (An icon that used to be an inn, so much for "treasured.") Yet experts disagree, for example I believe the hideous balcony ought to be replaced by a glass screen and that by using gum to affix notes -- this process is merrily expedited. Others however, insist that this treasured cultural example of love and beauty should be spared the onslaught of grimey gum being smashed against its face by the slippery-fingered, sugar-toothed, cross-eyed, pink fingernail polish-wearing young Italian girls and their counterpart in crime -- young Italian men who have found their place in history by having erected vast monuments to themselves in the annals of bad poetry and poor romantic writing.

posted by qalam on Sunday, December 12, 2004 at 11:15 a.m.

Finals week approaches, first essay due next week thankfully, and not this week -- else I'd have no "F Time."

Two images to share -- one mimicking (or mocking perhaps,) the infamous deck of cards which listed wanted men in Iraq but applied to top Zionist Likudnik officials, the other image one of the deceased Sheikh Ahmed Yassin. (saws)

posted by qalam on Saturday, December 11, 2004 at 07:01 p.m.

Today marks UN International Human Rights Day -- webcasts by way of the UN are available online, here.

Needless to say, Israel and the United States need not offer their token empty words, as their actions speak louder than their words, and the blood on their hands speaks louder still.

Halfway through the webcast, a dignitary from Canada makes poignant remarks.

posted by qalam on Friday, December 10, 2004 at 01:35 p.m.

It seems my last regrettable encounter with the opposite gender has taken to prodding me again. I see that her cubicle existence is proving to be too boring, so she must wax nostalgic. She still claims to love me, yet it is deception. I once tried to implore her to change her ways and was met with a rude "none of your business" response. She no doubt typed this in the same few moments where she was being fucked in her ass by some Marine. Yes, this is her love for me -- a twisted lunacy.

So while she fucks marines and endless lines of men who've picked a number and are waiting their turn with her vagina, she's currently banging some idiot named "J." One does not hurt those one loves, yet she's done nothing but hurt me since we seperated. It's an interesting thing to behold, as I'm called an abusive and selfish egotist. Rants of a madwoman.

This is why I no longer answer her calls, and the only reason I read her blog, as sparingly as I do, is to amuse myself. I read it to amuse myself by seeing who the current person/Marine she's fucking, is. It turns out it's "J." It's a macabre entertainment, yet I read the blog to continually prove to myself that she is who I always knew her to be, the person she still is. The person she will be until the day she dies. It's really too bad.

In the end, I will move on and she will remain where she is -- destined to rot amidst the new boredoms in her life, man after man after man. She broke my trust, and while with her I thought she was a changed person, yet now that the relationship is over, I see that you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Tricks like loyalty. Tricks like love.

As months pass, I'll view her blog less and less, as new things emerge worth my time in my own life. The day will come when she fades into a distant and forgotten memory, and as I swore then as I swear now, to never again be with someone like her -- as twisted and morally corrupt, as she. She finishes her entry with a parting shot, an attempt at looking and being genuine when she writes that her small ray of light is that I'm happy this season.

She hopes I'm happy now, yet immediately after we broke up, my happiness was the last thing on her mind as she went on fucking man after man, being the whore she is, as she still does. So it seems she cares for my happiness, as long as it's not in her control -- for if it is, then she cares not what wounds she delivers. It's a psychotic sort of irony, really.

She adds that I hate her, and how she'll have to live with that. It won't be hard at all considering the endless horizons of men she'll fuck and replace me with as the years grind on. No surprise there. Her final line states how she'd kick F.'s ass (my current love) if she doesn't keep me happy. The irony oozes, why does Autumn care for my happiness when she's done so much to destroy it?

In the final analysis, she's an unhealthy and baggage-laden woman whom I regret ever knowing, yet I knew of her nature the first time she slept with me, as it was also the first time we met -- so I knew then she was a slut. I suppose it was naive of me to believe she would change, but there is more of a chance of mountains changing shape overnight than there is a chance of her changing.

I'm glad the relationship is over, and I'm happier still to know that not all women are like her, as F., has shown me. F. has healed me so deeply, and has given where Autumn took away -- F. has been my redeemer. The day will come when I must leave F. as well, as my life will take me away from her, but I will leave healed, and ready to begin anew, with something more permanent.

Ultimately, the price I paid being with Autumn and breaking up with her was one I'd pay again, gladly -- as it has opened my eyes to the reality that not all women are like Autumn, thankfully. We all make our mistakes in life, however, so far, I'm thankful for not regretting the lessons I learned, no matter how painful the process.

posted by qalam on Thursday, December 9, 2004 at 02:17 p.m.

As I have a girlfriend to whom I'm radically and consumately devoted, a girl who means the world to me, I peruse craig's ads these days solely to amuse myself. Surprisingly, a lot of the ads are witty and well-written. Many of these people are genuinely kind and want, sincerely, to find a soulmate or an exclusive monogamous relationship that means something, and it seems that most of these girls are not driven by the need to chalk up yet another aimless worthless fuck to their lives.

Then this evening I ran across this ad that absolutely screamed out "I was written by your last unfortunate and regrettable encounter with the opposite gender."

"promiscuous princess seeks similarly minded
individual for getting wasted and fucking in bar bathrooms on
busy nights. heavy smokers encouraged to apply. artists
and musicians with deep seeded emotional trauma are
welcome, as we will be too drunk to talk about your
stupid problems."

Lastly, I just finished writing a two page journal, the last for my occupations class, thankfully. It's raining here, and I'm revelling in my natural element.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 8, 2004 at 06:12 p.m.

As I will soon become a citizen, the opportunity to join the Peace Corps presents itself. I've been thinking about joining for a very long time, but the conditions weren't right -- something was missing, or I was still in school, or I didn't decide on a target country. As the requirements for joining up consist solely of one being over the legal age and the other requirement being the applicant must hold US citizenship -- the problems I once faced are evanescing.

Soon I'll hold US citizenship, and I've been over the legal age for a few years now -- and in a year I'll graduate from college. I will apply to graduate school but receiving a notice back takes about half a year. What to do? Travel to Afghanistan and return in time to get the notice, which would then determine my immediate future.

If I get into any programs I apply to, I'll go, period. If I get rejected from all of the institutions (unlikely but possible, nonetheless) then I'll join the Peace Corps, and after the two year stint re-apply to the same programs and get in, given my even-more-enhanced candidacy.

There's a part of me that wouldn't mind it all that much if I were rejected from all schools applied, as I would love nothing better than to leave the country and live overseas for two years then return and resume my education. The decision to join the Peace Corps or go to graduate school would be tougher if I actually got into one or more programs -- as the programs require numerous years of time to complete, but I want to travel NOW. Now now now, and there'll be no two ways about it missy.

Childish tantrums aside, this is a dilemma that requires resolution.

If I join the Peace Corps, I would go to either Jordan or to Morocco. Now, the Corps is everywhere, I could go to Eastern Europe (too cold) or Central or South America (too humid and could get kidnapped -- no fun there). What remains? The Middle East and North Africa, or MENA countries. Currently, the Peace and Sunshine Corps serves only in Morocco and Jordan, either is fine with me.

I would choose Jordan because the Levantine dialect is more universally understood than the Maghrebi dialect of Arabic, that and the fact that there are so many cultural and historical sites (Petra) to visit -- though this is true for every MENA country, as the first civilization to have ever existed, was Arab -- the Mesopotamian civilization -- Iraqi, Arab, to be precise.

I would choose Morocco due to the surrounding natural beauty of the coasts and the historical sites as well, that and I've always wanted to get lost in the souks of Marrakesh. However, despite that living for two years in an Arabic-speaking country would boost my language proficiency to a fluent level, Maghrebi dialect is problematic, as when you leave North Africa, the dialect becomes less and less understood -- ergo the initial temptation I was entertaining with Jordan.

At the moment, it could go either way, either Jordan (one hour, roughly, away from Egypt, by plane) or Morocco, with its resplendent history and culture -- almost surrounded by coast and historical treasures of immense interest.

These are my tentative future options, none of which have been cemented yet. Things should get interesting from here on out.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 8, 2004 at 02:18 p.m.

Class beckons -- off to History, one more session after this one, and I'll no longer have to walk all the way to the West end of campus for a trivial little AC breadth-requirement class.

I'll post later on my new prospects of joining the Peace Corps and teaching English in Morocco or Jordan, but I'm in a rush at the moment, and barely have time to write.

More later, faithful legion.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 8, 2004 at 11:17 a.m.

King Abdullah (a munafiq) of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan has stated that his troops are "getting close" to apprehending mujahid al-Zarqawi (saws).

Insh'allah, this is not the case. Despite al-Zarqawi's bitter sectarian bigotry, he has defended the dignity of the deen ul-haq and the ummah nobly, by personally leading elements of the Iraqi moqawama, and inspiring other elements to mobilize against Crusader forces.

It seems self-proclaimed "experts" on Islam or "experts" on terrorism have recently found themselves in the analytical quagmire of performing cost-benefit analyses of moqawama methods employed in the aim of resisting occupation. Rather than gauging the overarching efficiency of the moqawama, these so-called "experts" quibble over moral nuances and minutiae -- luxuries which are not afforded to the moqawama.

Due to the lack of moral comfort involved in resisting Western occupation and imperialism, it becomes necessary to solidify resistance solely for the purpose of efficiency, if for no other reason. It just so happens as the moral economics of resistance goes -- that to be more effective, you must be more gruesome.

This moral groundwork has already been laid by the Crusaders who attacked a sovereign country, and was further cemented by such scandals as Abu Ghraib, and the recent shooting of two unarmed Iraqis in their home by two Crusader soldiers. These two men who were shot were innocent family men who had Crusaders burst into their homes and execute them.

It is actions such as these which have codified the moral rules of the moqawama to which the moqawama adheres. The moral rules which govern resistance in my estimation were not codified by the moqawama itself but were modelled after the moral rules by which the Crusaders maimed and slaughtered. So, it becomes interesting for my ears to hear these same "experts" discuss the "barbarity" and "inhumanity" of mujahid al-Zarqawi when he decides to put the blade of justice to the neck of Westerners who have no business being in Iraq; but those same ears of mine hear nothing from these "experts" when Crusaders engage in the same inhumane behavior. The munafiqeen remain silent, and it nicely underscores their guilt and moral complicity. These "experts," who speak no Arabic (ofcourse,) are merely cheerleaders of imperialism.

Insh'allah, mujahid al-Zarqawi will remain forever free to pursue the aim of resistance in the face of the increasing bounties which Crusaders put on his head, mistakenly believing that the same money to which the West has made its soul a slave, will also make slaves of those true shuhada such as mujahid al-Zarqawi and those who support him.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, December 7, 2004 at 09:00 p.m.

After much thought, I tossed my old digital camera (the one that records directly to a 1.44 disk, ghetto, no?) and the newer one which I bought for forty some bucks -- are both at the bottom of a trash heap, chargers, batteries and all.

I, being lazy as the semester winds down, decided to toss rather than sell the items. In lieu of these items, I purchased a Canon "Elph" digital camera -- with battery charger, USB cord, A/V cord, Lithium Ion battery and a 16mb either SD or CF card. 3.2 megapixels is the resolution of the unit I'll soon be receiving. I bought it for a shade under two bills and it usually retails for nearly four bills. Not bad, if I may say.

I just returned from the local Neds where I sold back two books which were used over the semester and no longer intrigue me and merely take up space. Bear in mind these were expensive books, as books go -- what did I get in return for both? 16 dollars. That 16 dollars is the combined sum.

It's a motherfucking racket of Medellin Cartel proportions, it's almost respectable.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, December 7, 2004 at 01:42 p.m.

I felt overcome by the urge to write a haiku, here it is.

I fell asleep once
to the bliss of graceful dreams
I felt a stream pass

Does it seem like it's about bed-wetting, to you? I know. Disturbing. Freud would have my ass for this. I think I should desist from writing such poetry henceforth. Okay children, now talk amongst yourselves.

posted by qalam on Monday, December 6, 2004 at 09:43 p.m.

This isn't just any Monday, humble readership.

This is the last week of scheduled lectures here at Berkeley, the semester has come and it has gone. With a snap of the fingers -- shit comes and shit goes, I-Ching, Dharma, whatever, you gotta roll with it.

I spent both days of the weekend over at F.'s apartment lounging around shooting holes in shit with A. I wound up scanning for wifi and found some dude pushing wlan coverage with no WEP or WPA-PKA protection so I "borrowed" some of his bandwidth the whole weekend while reclined on F.'s bed, nude, sampling cookies -- checking email, downloading vast quantities of gay pornography and IM'ing folk. (Not like he noticed it -- I checked his bandwidth with some regression analysis software, thanks Grant, and found I was only pushing a 4% load on his DSL pipe, boo fucking hoo.)

Sunday went much like Saturday except I strolled down to Signal Boooks and picked up a copy of Negri's Empire (a Marxist interpretation of the modern socio-industrial order) and a copy of Kepel's The War for Muslim Minds. Then I wound my way back up Holy Hill and found that F. had arrived from work, so we blew Sunday evening and night polishing, perfecting and bullet-proofing a 15-page essay on some Parables and Luke for one of her theology classes.

Weather's been nice and grey, good vibes -- good element.

In the Kingdom of Sa'udi Arabia, mujahideen stormed the US consulate, once again the mujahideen have sought out and attacked the source of global instability and moral corruption. Bravest of the brave, and most courageous, these mujahideen have struck against the consulate of a state which has debased the stability and peace of the world, and has murdered and slain countless in its Crusade against Islam. May these mujahideen continue their strikes and operations against the two-headed Snake, everywhere.

posted by qalam on Monday, December 6, 2004 at 10:03 a.m.

After responding to a visitor from Duke University in my comments section, I decided to post two new images of the campus. One image is of the famed Sather Gate, recognized around the world beneath which marches for civil rights-cum-revolutions in social thought, took place. It evokes thoughts of Mario Savio, to me.

The second shot is of the equally recognizable "Campanile" bell and clock tower, which chimes lovely little melodies when she's inspired. Enjoy.

posted by qalam on Sunday, December 5, 2004 at 02:54 p.m.

The French, in the sorry habit of finding themselves losing every historical military engagement they have ever been involved in, since ole' Nappy anyway -- have once more demonstrated their proficiency in handling military/security matters. Sure, they may have bent the German knee at Versailles, but in terms of scope and consistency -- the French are losers.

I do not say this from the standpoint of the average American redneck who simply doesn't like the French because it's not popular to like them, rather unlike these swine, I loathe the French for their lack of masculinity and their lack of genuine battle prowess.

It seems the French, ahem, have lost a small brick of high explosive plastique, 150 grams or five ounces worth. It seems the French ran some of this through a bag to see if the dogs would pick it up, we don't know if the dogs detected it, but somewhere in the world, there's a brick of plastique in the cargo hold of a plane. Who needs terrorists planting explosives on planes when you have the French watching your back?

The French throughout this little contretemps have been claiming this little brick is no more dangerous than a bar of chocolate, insensitive to movement, fire, shock and so on. Now this is all quite true, yet what they fail to mention is that one doesn't need an advanced military detonation cord or blasting cap to trigger this explosive.

All that the average terrorist needs is a small calibre bullet, a battery, a switch available from any electronics hobby shop and four to eight wires to rig a circuit. Switch is flipped, circuit is completed, wires attached to the primer of the round trigger the powder to detonate discharing the bullet while generating sufficient shock from the explosion to trigger the detonation of the plastique.

It's not important how I know this tradecraft, but this is generally how it can be done. I could go on, but my aim is not to be arrested for disseminating information like this, but rather to illustrate the ease with which this explosive can be put to good or evil use by someone who realizes what they just found, is astonishing.

Vive le France.

posted by qalam on Sunday, December 5, 2004 at 08:46 a.m.

The following are some images I took today with my new (and inexpensive) digital camera, enjoy.

This is a shot of A., F.'s room mate sporting her usual enthused demeanor.


A.'s showing us her lewd side, I know. Lascivious.


A surreal modernist inspired vista which I thought captured a nice mood of transcient stability and uncertainty. (Atleast, that's what it evoked in me.)


A tampon, F.'s I believe, which resembles a large calibre ammunition round. I was springing my leak when one of these caught my eye.


A murky and unsteady shot of the alleyway leading to "La Burrita." This Mexican restaurant offers entres about as inspired and creative as the name. (I ordered a chicken quesidilla, if you must know.)


A.'s wine rack sporting an impressive array of "two-buck Chuck" (Charles Shaw wine,) of which I've sampled.

posted by qalam on Saturday, December 4, 2004 at 10:41 p.m.

Some recent notes left on this site by persons afflicted with moral diseases yet undiagnosed which compels them to visit and re-vist this little blackhole of reason in a world of flatulent exogamies between vanity and confusion.

The notes are as follows:

 
You're like the love child of Hitler and Humbert Humbert.
Natalia | Homepage | 12.03.04 - 9:25 pm | #
 
As in, this blog is addictive for the wrong reasons.
Natalia | Homepage | 12.03.04 - 9:43 pm | #

I was actually looking up Muslim blogs online following a 
paper I wrote today on Monica Ali's "Brick Lane."

And then when your blog came up, I became oddly, 
masochistically fascinated, and spent way
 too much time reading than I'd like to admit.
Natalia | Homepage | 12.04.04 - 12:45 am | #

And 'masochistically' is not even a word.
Natalia | Homepage | 12.04.04 - 2:47 am | #
 
Fear not, Natalia, you are not alone (in the strange
 addictiveness, not the masochism, which is just as
 good a word as masochistically).
bcl | 12.04.04 - 8:05 am | #

My own comments have been excised. I've never posted the notes of others left on my site for all to read, as this is an untested first.

posted by qalam on Saturday, December 4, 2004 at 05:28 p.m.

I went to go hear As'ad AbuKhalil speak at 251 Dwinelle last night -- I've never heard someone speak of and uphold such progressive stances as though they were to be accepted without question by the world in which he wished for these stances to reflect. The world has a long way to go and he sees the progression of human expansion as positive. He unfortunately sees this as a matter of course de facto, which is as idealistic as it is dangerous, it dismisses many neo-Realist assumptions and trends about states which being a Ph.D, he is well-versed. Maybe it's his hope, that makes him do it, that makes him dismiss that which gives me pause.

His attempt to apply his views to his own schema of understanding and to the world, reflects my own attempts and views. His is a noble endeavor, in my view -- even though I still like to think of him as a namby-pamby Berkeley lefty, yet his resplendent brilliance does not afford me either room nor occasion to speak ill of him beyond than that.

Despite my previous outlook, I attended his guest lecture. I once thought of him as being far too idealistic and radically advanced in his disquisitions and discourses yet I have grown to also see that the world in which he sees such hope, is one also that is capable of embracing that hope and re-structuring itself around it. He's shed off on me, it's safe to say, as nothing is more threatening to me than hearing someone's views I once dismissed as far too radical, and then realizing that those views did indeed, make sense. It calls into question all of the other theories and premises I've integrated into my framework of thought, and now must analyze and balance, once more. This is a healthy process.

I now think he's one of the most avant-garde social minds I've ever had the immense pleasure and honour of crossing ways with. He stands a platform higher in the quality and depth of his thoughts and holds himself accountable in every respect to those notions he promulgates, and a qualitative notch above his peers. He stands above his peers as he is also an activist in the cause of the plight of those who are oppressed, and not merely a professor of knowledge in the Academy who walks the narrow path, braving neither hardship nor criticism.

It would be sophomoric of me to call him a "hero" of mine, but he certainly is the only intellectual and moral model I've ever had. And I've crossed paths with more than a few intellectuals on this chosen path of mine who've affected me, yet none as radically or as deeply as As'ad AbuKhalil.

He spoke freely and truthfully of al-Fattah, and has spoken to their ranks in Lebanon, and old-guarde revolutionaries who have long since hung up their rifles and retired in Beirut. He spoke of Fattah's corruption and how deeply Hamas has been infiltrated, despite his moral philosophical differences with Hamas, to speak truthfully about their situation is to do a service to them, one which I respect him for doing, as I hold the moqawama in the highest regard.

He mentioned how Hizbullah never made the mistake of relegating the task of defending and erecting barriers and safeguards against infiltration to the back burner, as Hamas has. Hizbullah's important higher echelons, alhamdulillah, have remained impervious to Zionist infiltration, something he touched upon, and this has driven the Zionists mad with both envy at their skill in security, and anger at their inability to defeat it, despite their most eager and desperate attempts to do so.

This mistake of Hamas has cost them the lives of key operatives, yet the resistance as he mentioned was far from being impotent, as new cells unknown to the Zionist enemy, are emerging. Even though he disagreed with Hamas and to a lesser extent, Hizbullah, and similarly striped organizations -- he praised them for their successes and efforts, and this resulted in roars of applause from the audience, and from myself.

At the end of his 45 minute discussion and speech, the large room filled with people gave him a standing ovation and escorted him all the way to his car, further carrying on the discourse he began. Truly, the man is a revolutionary and richly blessed. I look up to him as the largest and most influential figure responsible for shaping my thinking, politically, ever. I am far more radicalized as you all now, yet the crux of the edifice of my thinking is founded upon his theses and beliefs.

I was that night, am today and this night, as I imagine I will forever be into the future -- perennially inspired, honoured and immensely proud to know him. He is closer to my core beliefs and my circle than blood or associations of mine in the past or present, are now or have ever been.

posted by qalam on Friday, December 3, 2004 at 06:17 p.m.

Just got off the phone with housing and registration services who were quite helpful in guiding me through Summer school housing and academic options. It's a bit early to be dealing with this, one might think, but the registration period is only two months away, therefore one can't be too complacent.

I'll be taking one course in political science, and in doing so fulfill my political science requirement which would mean I would have effectively gotten the BA in political science upon completion of that class, minus the other courses I would take to fulfill overall unit/breadth requirements which do not demand that I take political science courses.

One year left, the clock is counting down, I'll be applying to graduate programs in the not-too-far distant future and see where the chips fall, as it were.

posted by qalam on Friday, December 3, 2004 at 02:19 p.m.

I've booked a flight to conclude the citizenship process. In all, it's taken approximately two years to deal with this. It's been an unending hassle and now, finally, the coup de grace awaits.

Classes end officially early December and once they do, it's finals time. Thankfully, rather than four finals, I'll only have three as one class (Japanese Military Occupations) a research paper is written in lieu of a final. That paper has already been written and turned in for an extra 5% grade boost, which is welcome.

I just hopped out of the shower, head bic'd and face shaved, nothing beats that aerodynamic smooth feel. Alas, the five o'clock shadow will return and minute by minute I'll begin looking more and more like an Iraqi insurgent. This is all well and good by me, better that than look like the President.

Hamas has called upon its cadres and members to boycott the upcoming Palestinian election as Hamas sees the political process to be unfavourably aligned against the movement as Fatah's Mahmoud Abbas (Abu Mazen) and Mustafa Barghouti who said he wouldn't run a few days ago, has now entered the race. I don't know which I loathe more -- corruption or fickleness. Both things being hallmarks of the Palestinian authority, and Fatah. This is why Hamas has boycotted this election -- it deems it to be biased despite the fact that any candidate it fields would likely win the majority of the vote. Abbas, should he win, will likely be assassinated by another branch of Fatah and as for Mr. Barghouti: he's sitting in an Israeli prison and the Israelis have said they won't let him assume any political office.

So, this is a farce. One corrupt ass, Mazen, is assassins' bait and the other is in a prison with no hope of assuming political office, presidential or otherwise. This leaves Hamas running the so-called "Palestinian street," just as it has been running this "street" as this movement has always ebbed and flowed in popularity but despite this always remained above the fifty percent level of popular support. These elections are the ne plus ultra of farcical proceedings and a similar farce of an election will be held in Iraq, the winners to be known before ballots are cast, thanks to America.

Also, today is international AIDS awareness day -- ergo, everyone direct your attention to my ex-slut, Autumn Brown of Experian in Costa Mesa, and pity her.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 1, 2004 at 04:03 p.m.

Ma'ashallah, Iran has recently thwarted Zionist/American attempts to isolate it from the international community. With the recent IAEA resolution which does not call upon international sanctions against Iran, Iran has seized a victory against the two-headed snake, one head Christian Zionist the other Israeli Zionist. This, in a sense pro-Iranian resolution, comes as a surprise to the redneck imperialist American regime which seeks to start another war at the behest of its Zionist masters and bible-beating sister-fucking bloc.

Hassan Rohani, a top Iranian official has stated this latest resolution from Germany, France and Britain stood as a "great victory." I have to concur, once Iran masters the nuclear fuel cycle independently, the terrorist "state" of "Israel," and the two-headed snake and its people will think twice, very long and very hard, before it attacks Iran.

Rather than believing Iran would lose out, the two-headed snake was the one that lost out as it found itself to be isolated as the French, British and Germans viewed everything that the two-headed snake said, with seething suspicion given the lies this snake told the world in order to invade Iraq.

Iran has not wavered, and has stated that it accepts no obligation whatsoever to permanently halt its nuclear progress, but has stated that under very strict conditions it would temporarily cease its nuclear progress, the stipulations being that the rabid snake, America, is held back by Europe and that Europe delivers to Iran nuclear fuel cycle pre-cursors and improves trade ties with Iran.

Once Iran successfully and independendly masters the fuel cycle with Russian and French assistance, it will be capable of producing nuclear weapons to then use as warheads for its blessed Shahab class missile platform.

The days of America's unilateralist crusade against Islam, are numbered. Soon Iran will have the knife with which to sever the head of the cousin of this snake, the "state" of "Israel."

Long live the Shi'a martyrs, long live al-Quds, by God (swt) your liberators are preparing.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, November 30, 2004 at 02:09 p.m.

The oddest thing in the world just took place. My ex-slut, a moral monster and an unbridled prostitute left me a voicemail message both insulting me in one breath and asking me to return her call, in the next breath.

(Morning semen breath from someone, I'm sure.)

Now, apparently this is normal in American white Christian whoredom as she seemed so casual in the message, almost as though I were her husband and she were reminding me to get milk from the store before I come home.

(Though if I were married to this garbage she'd ask me to get the milk to stall me so she could kick the guy she was just fucking in our bed out before I arrive.)

Maybe Autumn Erin Brown at her job over at Whore-Employers-R-Us a la Experian HQ in Costa Mesa, isn't keeping her busy enough. Surely, she could've put her mouth to better use than leaving me a message, better uses like sucking the dick of other men which she does all the time, and does probably as I write this entry.

Now, if this equivalent of a moral chimpanzee needs to talk to me, she can IM me or email me or leave a note on this blog by way of the comments section, just like all the other people who view this blog do. But to call me, well, that takes balls I never knew she had, but obviously she does have these balls as given the semen of strange men she's drenched in every night she's probably grown testicles of her very own.

I wonder what the whoring, lying, scum still wants with me... maybe her freak fuck buddy whom I hope gives her AIDS, Erik Jansen, dumped her sorry fat whore ass, who knows. Maybe the Marine she fucked before this guy won't return her calls or emails, again who knows. I don't.

Phone calls I ignore; she fucks with me, her already-struck-down-blind father (by God for being this whore's father, my ex,) and stupid mother (a slut herself when she was Autumn Erin Brown's age, maybe this is where Autumn gets her whoring from,) in their home, will realize what .45 rounds whizzing by their heads, feels like.

I'm out of the loop of the future or present life of this whore, yet she still called me. Why? Maybe to have me look up the closest HIV/Herpes clinic near her.

posted by qalam on Monday, November 29, 2004 at 01:59 p.m.

Back from a lovely Thanksgiving, just got word that the ceremony date for my US citizenship has been set. It's being held in some joint in Los Angeles -- home territory.

US Citizenship is such a joke. I'm only applying because it's such a hassle to write my Alien number on official forms. Why else would I be a citizen? To vote in elections that change nothing, no matter the outcome? To have pride in a nation of redneck idiots which launches one unending war after another, against one Muslim country and another? That's why I have quoted al-Nisa below.

These people who believe Jesus wrote the bible when he penned not one word of it, people who believe Jesus was some aryan pin-up guy who looks like those guys in Nazi WWII posters. These redneck Christian idiots who don't even realize Yeshua was a Rabbi preaching a message of reform for the Jews, not to start some new religion called "Christianity." And Christians are not reformed or fulfilled Jews, not even close.

Moving on, wait, it's for a nation of these people that I want to become a US citizen?

Guess again, ladies and gentlemen.

Vote Democrat? Vote Republican? No, vote Hezbollah.

posted by qalam on Monday, November 29, 2004 at 09:34 a.m.

"Wherever you are, death will find you out. Even if you are in towers built strong and high."

(al-Nisa 4:78)

Blessed are those who lived faithfully to these letters written in light, to seek out and eradicate the corruption.

posted by qalam on Saturday, November 27, 2004 at 10:06 a.m.

Happy Thanksgiving all.

Mine went unusally well, got a call from the aunt wondering if I'd be coming down -- uh, no. I ran some reasonably plausible line past the aunt and it landed well enough. Spent Thanksgiving with F., and her friend E., who came in from Arizona. Turns out she's a pilot and knows everything about everything concerning mechanical equipment -- knows quite a bit about Von Clausewitz and his summation of the Napleonic Wars, which scores high marks in my book.

Spent last night with F., and E., at Temple Beth El's interfaith service, the local Berkeley Hills Jewish community put on quite the spectacle of music, Jewish hymns, and a choir performance courtesy of a Baptist group. (Church on the side of the road, Baptist)

We three walked a few blocks and found the synagogue and spent a good two hours mingling and eating "goash," a Yiddish soup which was more than palatable.

This evening F., E., and yours truly drove up to Berkeley Hills to feast this lovely night on turkey and sundry, colorful delicacies, some soft and other a bit rich -- all around delightful, nonetheless. The hostess and owner of the house, AG., spent a good deal talking with me about living in Orange County for a few months and the both of us quickly found our common ground in agreeing that the "plastic culture" of our Southerly neighbors was dreadful and an embarassment. I dined in their sun room, with a grand meal before me, F., and E., to my sides and a semi-dry white Sauvignon table wine which was smoother than I had expected. The red Borsau wine was something a shade darker than reprehensible. Maybe I wasn't ready for the full-bodied richness of it given the lighter first course I was enjoying. To me, it seemed the dryer white would suit the desert, and it did. Grapes, the dry white and the pies, cakes and some odd creation which resembled a cookie but had a pleasing "crisp" snap to it, was positively heavenly. I still have difficultly in fully understanding how the cookie itself was made or held together... culinary brilliance, irrespective of the mysetery surrounding its creation.

There must have been thirty people there, most of whom were in my age group, or ever so slightly older. Justin, one on the gents my age was amenable enough and we quickly went about the tables featuring cheeses and in short order I became an amateur connoisseur as the both of us gorged ourselves unceremoniously on the smoked cheddars of Norweigan origin and a cabbot cheese which I think was Italian and had a stinging sharpness to it, which I gathered would have gone well with the red Borsau and the steaks.

Later on, Justin's fiancee began dancing hysterically yet quite skillfully to a trancy yet bluesy song which normally would have found its way into my trance collection. After Senshoko managed to dance herself into a lethargic stupor, she went about the merry business of collapsing onto the couch in a dress which really looked like it wouldn't have taken well to its wearer collapsing onto coaches. As this occured, Justin and I went back to the business of smoking in the sun room (you don't just say "No thank you, I don't smoke." to a free cigar which truth or lie one believes has a very good chance of being Cuban. Havana markings kind of give it away.) and sampling cheeses and the syrups which complement them.

This was a Thanksgiving that won't soon be forgotten as it stands out spectacularly in contrast with the refuse passing itself as leisure that other Thanksgiving's have embodied in vague years gone by. As the evening dwindled, I, F., and E. bid our hosts farewell as did the fifteen or so other guests who were leaving roundabout the same time we were departing.

I pen this entry on F's laptop as I'll be staying until Monday morning at her apartment along with E., and a few others who'll be showing up as this Thanksgiving weekend passes into the fondness of pleasant recent memory.

posted by qalam on Thursday, November 25, 2004 at 09:02 p.m.

I love this lady.

In a scene that could've been pulled from "Monty Python Does Arabia," a woman dressed as a male Sheikh at a masjid in Bahrain took nearly four grown Muslim men to subdue her as she tried to deliver a sermon. Upon her being restrained, she was handed over to Bahraini police and was held at Houra police station, which ironically in Arabic, means "freedom." Such irony is a fitting denouement to this comedy.

Ergo, freedom police station. I think that kind of humor is sorely in want in America. How about a police station called "free bail police station?" I think it would be a hit with the local delinquents.

I finished registering for my Spring 2005 semester classes, yesterday. Another sixteen unit push, good news is that no classes begin sooner than 11am, which means I get to essentially sleep in for a whole semester -- a welcome respite.

In a departure from previous enrollment patterns, I've opted to take only one political science course next semester as I only have two left to take to fulfill my political science major requirements, general breadth requirements however, demand I take 16 units from here until graduation.

The political science course in question will have to do with organizational structures of governments, the remaining three courses consist of a history course of a non-Western hemispheric region, a philosophy course and a course on human rights. I look forward to them all, it should be a challenging semester. Luckily, all of the classes are in close physical proximity to each other, as well -- which means less foot time beating through roving mobs of Asians and Indians in trying to get to my classes.

With only a year left at Berkeley, the question arises as to whether I will "walk" during graduation, after some thought, I have decided to walk. I'll rent out a graduation gown and invite F. to attend, no "family" from Southern California will be attending nor will anyone else from that loathsome region. I will intend for the ocassion to be a joyous one, ergo other persons beyond F., will not be in attendance.

At any rate, it's off to class, where moribund topics will be discussed as though they are alive and well.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 at 02:13 p.m.

I just came across this little gem validating all of my inklings concerning people who vote Republican.

It seems, out in the boondocks of Wisconsin -- boondocks not all too dissimilar from the boondocks of Orange County, CA, where all manner and variety of redneck and other assorted filth roam freely and unshackled -- some Republican hicks (permit the redundancy, it's a matter of course,) caught up in a fit of displaying their true colors, exhibited their compassionate conservatism towards one another.

These five rednecks, resplendent testaments of evolutionary progress and cultural sophistication, brutally murdered one another. Yes -- if you're not shocked by reading this, you're obviously American -- there were five of these beasts to iterate and they all slew each other, no doubt in an atmosphere of mouth-agape, wildly cursing, acne-scarred faces, pussing gums knuckle-dragging and enraged eyes (and quite a bit of gunsmoke, I can imagine,) whilst experiencing back-breaking spasms of inbred territorial fever (a la the movie "Wrong Turn,") they drew weapons and thank god possibly saved me five rounds of ammunition by slaughtering each other off.

For my foreign readers -- no doubt shaken by the grotesqueries prevalent on this side of the Atlantic -- most notably my readers in the UK where the equivalent of American redneck, hicktard, inbred gun madness is a gentlemanly fox hunt, my apologies for the trauma incurred by reading my description of what goes on here. Allow yourself a moment to regain composure, recover and finish puking on the keyboard. It's sickening, I know; I was left morally effete after reading the article, but after living in this country my moral compass has hardened to absorb these blows as they land.

Much like the leader of these inbred examples of degenerate inhumanity whose mothers should have been shot for birthing these monsters into a world of law and reason -- president Bush only knows how to solve problems by using violence, as well. Do you see parallels emerging? No? Wipe the tears from your eyes. See the parallels now? Good. One redneck uses a gun on another person, the redneck-in-chief uses an army to slaughter innocent people. Readers, the difference lies not in substance, but in scope.

If you asked these five now-deceased (thank you, Winchester Rifle Company) imbeciles their religious persuasion, you would've been deafened by a cacophony, a veritable auditory barrage of "I'm Christian!" and "Woo! Go Jesus!" yet look at the despicable behavior shown by these people. Do you know any Jewish, Muslim, or Buddhist rednecks? I don't, so it's very safe to assume they were Christians.

Now, I believe this whole massacre in the woods speaks to the larger issue of American both amorality and immorality, stupidity and intolerance on the part of men and women. American men (generally,) are rightly seen as brain dead, morally vacuous, of questionable character and weak perception -- who are not but a half-notch above these people who killed each other in the woods. American women (generally,) are rightly seen as whores, morally vacuous abominations and perversions of what is normally seen as the paradigm of rightly-guided virtuous womanhood, liars, manipulative and generally to be as well-trusted as the average Zionist with a poor man's wallet.

However, I don't blame American men and women for their mental, social and moral deviance and corruption -- I see them as a product of a violent, superficial and misguided culture and society that's been taken over by corporate profiteers and cowards. These men and women who have been birthed into a broken system through a cut and bleeding womb which has splattered moral disease upon their faces long before American men and women could grow to be able to discern correct from incorrect behavior, moral from immoral thought, cannot be wholly blamed.

Due to this, most Americans are of flimsy moral backbone, incapable of moral thought if only for a day, are selfish and self-absorbed, lack character and constitution to do what is morally right if it means losing out financially and needless to say, their view of love, family, relationships and how to treat each other is as twisted as an umbilical cord around the neck of their own view that nothing is wrong.

Among the rampant child abuse, office and school shootings, the over-50% divorce rate in this country and general apathy in this country towards changing things, all of this in addition to this recent shooting in the woods of Wisconsin by people who compose the entire Southern belt of the continental United States -- bodes poorly for any argument made contrary to this writing.

posted by qalam on Sunday, November 21, 2004 at 07:27 p.m.

Yesterday, the big game took place, and were it not for the fact I heckled three Standfurd men on my way from F's apartment, this event would have gone by without note. There were barbeques taking place, my general roaming route took me past a few of these delightfully aromatic swirls.

An interesting link was sent my way, courtesy of BCL, Sorry Everybody. I found it worth posting as it tells of how half the country is redneck and ignorant and how the other half has been taken hostage by these dungheaps who voted for the current pond of malaria-infested scum sitting in the highest office.

Over Thanksgiving, I'll be spending four days over at F.'s and she'll have a few friends over, A., W., V., and E. I believe W. wants to break himself off a piece of E.'s ass. It should be entertaining. The wreath-laying should be an experience not to be forgotten, either. Went out shopping with F. and wound up buying a pound of brick milk chocolate, which I've yet to feast upon. Also went to Da Nang, a little Viet hole in the wall and picked up some to-go.

It's getting windy up here, but not any colder. Hasn't rained for some while, either. Looks like the week in Socal means I'll spend a day shooting at a range with S., and seeing Gwen one of those days, as well. I'll end up at a hotspot most of the days checking email since my aunt's wireless is crap. The second the plane touches down on miserable OC soil I'll wish I weren't there.

posted by qalam on Sunday, November 21, 2004 at 10:03 a.m.

Two more recent visual delicacies -- one of San Francisco as captured from the dorm window, and the other of the mess which erupts upon my desk when midterms are being bandied about.

posted by qalam on Thursday, November 18, 2004 at 05:53 p.m.

I'm giddy. I only have to visit Orange County for a week to see my mom and whomever else is around then I get to come back and have a week free to myself before the semester starts.

Why am I giddy, you ask with that look of bewilderment? Well, the dorms kick all the students out on the 22nd which means I get to stay at F.'s apartment until early Jan., whereupon I'll fly or be driven down by Steve to do the whole family song and dance.

My nerves, quite seasoned and hard, can nonetheless only take a few days of exposure to my cousins and their family before thoughts go dancing about my head having to do with shooting tight groups in their direction. I showed my .45 to my younger male cousin (decent guy, not too bright though,) last time I was in town, said it was heavy. Damn right it's heavy, that's a widowmaker he was holding. I then put it back in the box and locked the case. Spooked him though. I suppose he never knew his cousin packed solid iron. He knows now.

I recently got a stun gun, too. Nothing beats it in close quarters engagement. Tag the guy in any spot, it's lights out. I worry about a guy with a stun gun more than I do a guy with a knife, even a gun. You can stay out of the direction of both of those if it's brandished, and a person is generally not all that willing to use a gun if he's just brandishing it for effect. But a stun gun? A guy just has to get close. Now, all I need to do, is get close -- and it's 800,000 volts right up your ass. I hope you don't have a heart problem. Nice, huh? I think it's just dandy. Now I own two little items that can ruin someone's day. It's great, I press and it starts this loud snapping/popping noise as blue sparks jump across the four hooks.

Not trying to start a collection though...

posted by qalam on Wednesday, November 17, 2004 at 09:18 p.m.

The al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigade has renamed itself the Arafat Brigade in remembrance of Yassir Arafat, and recently Hamas and Islamic Jihad in talks with what is now Mahmoud Abbas' Fatah party have stated that they will not accept a Fatah monopoly on power. This may lay the first stone in a very short road to hell should these more popular and powerful groups tire of being sidelined by a corrupt, venal Fatah organization and leadership. Even Fatah ranks have shown their intolerance towards their party's increasing corruption as militants opened fire at Mahmoud Abbas a while ago chanting that he and Muhammad Dahlan were Zionist spies. This has to do mainly with the fact that these two were not forged in the trenches of resistance, but are rather career politicians.

Talk of civil war is spreading, but no one knows in their foresight how such events will affect realities on the ground, and I view speculation of a Palestinian civil war to be premature.

Tensions have heightened between regional powers of South East Asia as a Han-class nuclear submarine belonging to the Chinese submarine service recently penetrated Japanese territorial waters for approximately two hours before being hunted down, chased and then identified as a Chinese vessel by the direction it escaped and the signature noise of the engine. The chase lasted two days and Beijing made no mention of the affair for a whole week as President Hu was out of the country. A cryptic half-assed apology (such apologies being hallmarks of Chinese diplomacy,) was later made as the Chinese claimed their vessel incurred a "technical error" causing it to veer. In reality, they were patrolling around Senkaku island for natural gas and mineral reserves as Tokyo and Beijing have been at odds as to sovereignty of the island. It is generally recognized as Japanese.

On a personal sidenote, my former girlfriend (she prefers to call me her "ex-boyfriend," but that sounds a touch cold to me, she apparently doesn't mind, naturally,) in a voicemail she left me demanded I be more respectful in what I say to her (well, really what I Instant Message her,) and this struck a chord of irony with me. Here we have a person who continually demeans herself, a person who has already destroyed all of her own self-respect by what she does with other men and will never stop doing with other men despite my being hurt by it, yet has the flagrant and bald-faced audacity to demand of me my respect all the while she has sacrificed her own self-respect. That indeed strikes a long and deep chord of irony with me, and it also seems a very hollow and meaningless thing to demand given her behavior which she doesn't care to change in spite of my feelings. That's her love for me, folks. Alas, such is her twisted sense of propriety. It seems irony is not without a sense of macabre humor.

I just finished my PS3 midterm and that was a lit stick of dynamite left on my lap. I know all will go well as all things have gone well in my undertaking of academic course loads revolving around abstraction. But then again, who knows. I'll know what I get, when I see it in writing. Until then, I tend not to care too much. God, can't Hamas just detonate an Israeli bus so I can smile about something for a change? I mean, really, is that asking too much of Hamas?

posted by qalam on Tuesday, November 16, 2004 at 05:49 p.m.

So, as usual I was found at the Palestinian-run smokeshop on Telegraph and Bancroft today, discussing politics as I'm oft-to-do in my spare time. (Catch up on reading? Hah, I should smite you.) Z., the guy who runs the joint thought Marwan Marghouti was going to be the next leader of the Palestinians. Well, at the moment, this Fatah chap is sitting in a Zionist prison, so it's unlikely he'll be released to be, of all things, the head of a nation.

As I was perusing the fine collection of knives, hookahs, cigars and yet, more hookahs, he blurted out that Hanan Ashrawi would be a good choice. I agreed. Hanan has a very long history with Fatah, she's Christian which puts a nice face on for the people, and she's very well respected by all parties. Unlike Abu Mazen, who nearly lost his life a few days ago at a mourning tent for Arafat; the bullets fired at him belonged to members of another branch of Fatah apparently none too pleased with him being in the tent. Ahmed Qurei is a shady character and I don't trust him.

With my mind fondling the thought of Ashrawi leading the Palestinians and my nostrils gorging with the scents of incense candles I was walking past, I also concluded Ashrawi would be the perfect choice.

I rushed off to class soon after and bid my Palestinian interlocutors a farewell. Goddamn, they had some nice hookahs though.

posted by qalam on Monday, November 15, 2004 at 05:48 p.m.

I just updated the flash links above to better reflect recent changes of relevance and additions of interest.

posted by qalam on Sunday, November 14, 2004 at 04:45 p.m.

Compatriots, today marks the glorious and successful end of a quest of staggering proportions, consisting of impossible goals and untenable intentions...

I have found the perfect laptop carry-case.

The saga is concluded, the journey is over, the hunger of pursuit -- sated. I would like to thank god, the high-altitude sherpa guides, my scuba gear, my neoprene suit, my body armour, my large cash reserves for bribing officials and lastly, my iron gut for its fortitude in repulsing all manner of grotesque disease in my quest to attain the unattainable.

posted by qalam on Saturday, November 13, 2004 at 10:49 p.m.

My not caring for strong drink and being swayed by the insistence of two blokes in my section, I'll be making my way down to some bar with them. They'll do the drinking, I'll do most of the not-much-else. This is going to be the first -- and probably last -- foray into a drinking establishment I'll be making in this kooky town, so we'll see how it goes.

I have a two-pager due Tuesday, but I'll manage it over the weekend where F. and I will be attending Catholic mass and a wreath-laying ceremony. Don't ask me what the latter is about, I haven't any idea.

posted by qalam on Friday, November 12, 2004 at 06:01 p.m.

Aged 75, the national leader of the Palestinians for over 40 years, chairman of the PLO and founder of Fatah, has passed away. May he rest in peace. Many Israelis will celebrate this man's passing. Let them celebrate until Hamas blows up one of their buses, then I'll serve some drinks.

posted by qalam on Thursday, November 11, 2004 at 12:24 a.m.

Fascist extraordinaire and proponent of the Patriot Act, John Ashcroft, has resigned. Joy. He along with a crony named Evans from the commerce department have been the latest targets on a list of Bush administration re-shufflings.

As you all know, the situation in the Netherlands is deteriorating. Once a nation that prided itself on secular tolerance is having its sinister underbelly exposed as its population reveals its long-standing anti-Muslim sentiment which was only brought to the forefront of public attention due to the recent killing of Van Gogh, (no relation to his namesake,) a controversial film maker.

There was a bombing of a mosque and a recent successful arson perpetrated against a Muslim daycare center. In response, two protestant churches suffered attacks by way of molotov cocktails and also suffered damage. So far, no bombings have been carried out against churches in response to the bombing of a mosque.

What apparently triggered his murder in broad daylight by nine men, was a scene in one of his just-released films in which Qur'anic verses were superimposed against half-nude women. Van Gogh has made it a point to ridicule Islamic culture as "backwards," and this last film crossed the proverbial line in the sand. It's all well and good to be critical, abusive and acerbic, but when you superimpose holy Qur'anic verses against half-nude women in a video, that there just might result in your murder. Should he have been murdered? No. Did he have it coming? Sure did.

Fears are growing in the Netherlands that if the tension rises, the country may attract al-Qa'ida type elements who may, in the words of the country's foreign minister, carry out a "Madrid event."

As usual, people are behaving like people. I suppose you have no sense at all if you think that continually denigrating and attacking a community will be met with silence. Apparently, in a moment of brilliance, he decided to ride in broad daylight on a bicycle in the city, and was ambushed and stabbed repeatedly. Gee, if I keep making videos that denigrate black people, I might not want to ride around in Compton. This simple line of thought apparently eluded him, and it cost him his life.

Unlike us in the USA with our more open and more common sensical approach to offending people -- the Klan doesn't march in urban areas because they know they won't be a-marchin-on-out alive. And black folks in the South tend not to be uppity since rednecks like lynching colored folk. Atleast we in the USA have the sincerity to be open and generally honest about our inhumanity, whereas the Dutch feign civility and pretense.

It seems French doctors have finally ascertained the nature of Arafat's illness -- a brain hemmorhage. He's not living through this now that it's been revealed to be something this serious.

... and I still don't have a laptop carry-case.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, November 9, 2004 at 09:36 p.m.

Berkeley turns into a ghetto past Telegraph and Blake. I spent the better part of the day, after History class, casing one shop after another looking for a suitable laptop carry-case -- two bloody shits and a ziploc bag of my Lali's menstruated uterine wall is what that little foray was met with.

I think a passed a young strapping black lad who had his purple hat to a tilt, shades down to the tip of his nose, stooped -- whom I think was the first genuine pimp I've ever run across. He didn't have a laptop carry-case, either. I didn't ask. He was waiting for a bus, I suppose the trade is dry these days. To my mind, he should've been in a purple caddy, with tinted windows, playing something by Aretha Franklin or Barry White.

It was overcast today with some slight drizzle, and a good deal of wind.

Much to the dismay, embarassment and chagrin of the Zionists, Hizbullah flew an unmanned surveillance drone about nine kilometers into Northern Occupied Palestine, over a number of settlements and it was then turned around and flown back to Lebanese airspace. I was smiling the whole time while reading about this, wondering how beside themselves the Zionists must've been upon realizing the sophistication of this intrustion and its implications.

One can always count on Hizbullah to innovate new ways of harassing and humiliating the Zionists. Maybe next time the drone will be wired with a Strontium-90 encased conventional explosive and go off over a major Zionist settlement, irradiating miles and miles of it, and putting an end to Zionist expansionist aspiration. Well, it would be nice. The drone was reportedly of Persian origin.

Off to sleep. (I'm old, I know, I need my energy to fend off bouts of unending constipation.)

posted by qalam on Monday, November 8, 2004 at 07:27 p.m.

Not being much of a soccer fan, I did come across a team I could get behind. I think every country should have teams like these.

Recently, approximately twenty collaborators had their police station stormed by the Resistance and these collaborators amidst their heated throes of bravery and unrivaled courage -- promptly surrendered, handed over their weaponry and were then shot on site, hands tied and made to kneel -- so-called "execution style," -- by the Resistance units which partook in the operation.

One more shining example of how these collaborators are not only stooges of occupation, but also a gang of inept cowards who couldn't even defend themselves. This little macabre song and dance of envied battle prowess put on by the stooges of imperialism and tyranny took place in al-Anbar province. Apparently producing even a pistol and letting but only one round fly, was far beyond the scope of these asses.

In a recent interview with the beeb (BBC,) Bush Sr. said he was upset by the "visceral hatred" shown towards his maggot son during the election. I wonder if the needless deaths of tens of thousands of Iraqis and a handsome number of shit-eating Crusaders is good enough reason to have just a tad, a smidgen, a light streak of "visceral hatred" towards that bloody pound of fecal matter, Bush Jr. He also had enough effrontery left in his decrepit and thankfully dying body to utter this gem -- "history will judge his action..."

No, Mr. Bush, that simply will not do.

The living have already judged his actions, the dead have attested to his brutality, the maimed to his callousness, nay, his actions have already incriminated both himself and his war criminal staff. If he were the leader of any other country but the US with its decadent might and arrogance, and he embarked on such a war -- his miserable, hated, cowardly and semen-filled ass would be sitting in a cell along with those other three war criminals and scum extraordinaire, Powell, Rice and Cheney -- at the International Criminal Court in the Hague. Maybe they could bum some cigarettes off Slobo Milosovich, as he'd be in the cell right next to theirs.

posted by qalam on Sunday, November 7, 2004 at 08:28 a.m.

In keeping with the theme of mourning the re-election of Bush, I offer these three sumptuous visual delicacies.

This is the Track 16 Gallery in Santa Monica, which I went to with Gwen some moons ago. (An old high school lass.) It reads:

I fault this president for not knowing what death is. He does not mourn. To mourn is to express regret and he regrets nothing. He does not regret that his reason for going to war was, as he knew, unsubstantiated by the facts. He does not regret that his bungled plan for the war's aftermath has made of his "mission-accomplished" a disaster. He does not regret that rather than controlling terrorism his war in Iraq has licensed it. He does not mourn but is a figure of such moral vacancy as to make us mourn for ourselves.
--E.L. Doctorow

This piece above is provided courtesy of Gina, a college chum of mine.

A final piece which really sums up my views nicely.

posted by qalam on Saturday, November 6, 2004 at 04:40 p.m.

As the operation against resistance fighters continues to intensify in Fallujah, an interesting propaganda technique has come to light that dates back to the era of World War II. The US has been calling resistance fighters: "anti-Iraqi forces." I think this is greatly amusing since everyone in Iraq knows who invaded Iraq, and why. (The US invaded for oil, and because Israel wanted to get rid of Iraq as a threat.)

Perhaps the US is trying to be funny when it does this, because no one is laughing. The Iraqis on the ground know who's who and who's fighting for them as opposed to who's launching so-called "precision strikes" against them. These are the same pilots who shot up an American school, yeah, it's these people who are launching the same "precision strikes," in Iraq.

And as far as the US not knowing that the high explosives at the al-Qa'qa facility were there, to then blaming the IAEA for not tagging them. (How could they tag them when the US cut short their investigations so the US could invade?) To the US then saying they took every precaution necessary to safegaurd the explosives, the lies just keep on coming. Is that kind of like how the US safeguarded the Baghdad museum housing relics of the first civilization on Earth, the Mesopotamian -- which then got looted? Despite all of the lies which the US is hurling about, here's what really took place.

The hits just keep on coming.

posted by qalam on Friday, November 5, 2004 at 10:23 a.m.

posted by qalam on Thursday, November 4, 2004 at 07:30 a.m.

Multiple-issue voters seem to be artifacts of a bygone age. Why is it when people analyze a certain political candidate, rather than a series of issues coming to mind, merely one does? Say it with me now: "Abortion!" "Gay Marriage!" "The War in Iraq!"

Is this primarily due to people being dumbed down or is this due to politicians responding to what the people want? Perhaps it's a synchronous concurrent dumbing down.

I think we can agree that most people, much like most politicians -- are fairly stupid creatures.

Food for thought.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, November 3, 2004 at 03:58 p.m.

It looks like my stats professor was right when she said the Michigan Voting Model predicted a Bush win.

Turns out Kerry conceded victory as he probably knew once Ohio was done counting their votes it would've looked Republican.

Well, here comes another four years of the fascist.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, November 3, 2004 at 08:28 a.m.

Turns out the group holding Margaret Hassan -- that aid worker seen weeping in the last few videos put out -- is threatening to hand her over to Jihad wal Tawhid, al-Zarqawi's group, if the British don't, ahem, yank their forces out of Iraq.

This bodes poorly for old Mrs. Hassan -- a Dubliner who's devoted her life to helping Iraqis -- as we all know, Zarqawi has one hell of an insatiable fetish for lopping off foreign peoples' heads.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, November 2, 2004 at 02:59 p.m.

I just returned from the BART station, and have arrived safely. I know, the BART station is a post-apocalyptic nightmare of non-white people. Just leaving Orange County, it's quite a shock to the system.

Back to the grind: everything's been unpacked -- laundry, phone, toothbrush and various extraneous material -- and I await the upcoming onslaught of academic due-dates and the impending sodomy of all things sane and common sensical here in the little town of Berkeley.

On an aside, atleast the bums were conspicuously absent from my recent trip through the BARTian abyss.

posted by qalam on Monday, November 1, 2004 at 07:14 p.m.

There's a crowded line behind me as people stand to board their flight to Las Vegas, at gate 2A at Long Beach Airport, here in Southern California. This entry comes by way of laptop via the generous access provided by the Long Beach Airport's "INTERMEC" wireless network.

I just spent the last two days at my aunt's house, and I was reminded of all the reasons I decided to come to Berkeley to begin with. Sure, I got into the local school of note (UCI,) but Berkeley is five hundred miles away. That was one of the deciding factors -- pure distance away from the source of my unending contempt. I left their house without turning the TV off or telling anyone I left, I just stormed out, laptop in tote, backpack strapped on -- straight into my Lali's awaiting XTerra to spirit me away from that prison without bars.

I hear the sounds of a jet engine not but fifty feet in front of me and I thank all the angels in hell for letting this weekend finally come to an end.

The reasons, you might wonder, having to do with my leaving Berkeley and returning to Southern California on a weekend, have to do with my application for citizenship which with the recent passing of my test (today,) marks yet another step -- the ceremony, which will probably be held in LA.

The reasons for my applying are pragmatic, and I was told to my surprise that many Persians at the last minute abandon their application and pursuit of citizenship upon realizing that should they become US citizens, their properties in Iran become the property of the Islamic Republic. Now, if your family and primary properties are there, you just might think twice about becoming a US citizen.

Other news, a martyr bore witness at a Tel Aviv marketplace today resulting in the extermination of four Zionists -- boohoo.

Tomorrow marks election day and I know all the asses with a "Bush/Cheney" sticker on their car will come out with their cousin-mah's to vote, I only hope the latte-sippers come out in force to vote, too. I think Bush is going to win, alas, as Bin Laden stated, it doesn't matter who wins the election, the critical policies of concern that pertain to US security, will not change, no matter how many faces come and go. Essentially, the biggest red herring in American politics is the presidential election -- it gets everyone excited because it evokes the tensions and dramas of high school popularity contests writ large, when in reality, who wins doesn't matter so much as the policies in place which shape the image of America, abroad.

posted by qalam on Monday, November 1, 2004 at 11:43 a.m.

Got a phone call today informing me that my shades were ready, so I went down to the Tang Center and retrieved them. The hues and hints of red are all but gone, which is good enough, as apparently the fine people at DKNY can't do shit without using a florescent light to check the color of tint, so after the third time having sent it and received it, it's finally what I wanted.

Are people really that incompetant?

posted by qalam on Friday, October 29, 2004 at 06:26 p.m.

Al-Jazeera has shown a video of Osama Bin Laden, America's face of terror, denouncing the Bush administration and amidst all his rambling and venting about how musty it is in Waziristan -- he made a trenchant remark.

He said, roughly translated, that "the security of America is not in the hands of al-Qa'ida, Bush or Kerry, but in the hands of American Policy" -- clearly referring to his past statements about hyprocritical and double-dealing US foreign policy having to do with the "Israelis" and the Palestinians. That ongoing double-standard has marred the reputation of America across the planet and continues to stain it in the eyes of the world.

Americans who are on the brainless-side of the spectrum (woe, they are plentiful, like weeds) like to claim that al-Qa'ida hates the US because of its "freedoms" (like how the FBI investigates me for running this site? Those kuffars.) and its "values" (is that a sad reference to school shootings?) Well, Canada has more guns per household than the US, and has the same if not more freedoms than this country bandies about, so why didn't their towers get snapped like twigs?

Because they keep a low international profile when they do things, and they rarely engage in the hobby of injustice and war crime like the US loves to turn into a science, overseas. That's why, even with their more abundant freedoms and liberal values, their towers are still standing while big bad ass New York City had its ass handed to it with a side order of "How do you like these nuts?"

Canada, for example, doesn't support that piece of shit country occupying Palestine, which is why it's not hated in the Middle East, like America is. Finally, bin Laden has been forced to spell out the reasons for attacking the US, and he blames it on policy, because geniuses working for the policy of the US are Zionist scum and have lied to the world and to Americans about where their tax money is REALLY going.

Anyway, god bless Canada for knowing how to be a professional, and just, international operator; all the while the US shows the world that human depravity, truly, knows no bounds.

posted by qalam on Friday, October 29, 2004 at 03:01 p.m.

Unbeknownst to me, it was arranged that this evening a horde of children numbering up to 25 was to storm the dorm with their parents in tote, costumned, with bags at their sides looking to make easy marks off us. John (Charlie Arms) clipped a brown bag to the door which was filled to about an inch high with candy; he then left the door agape as he wandered off to the gym, ergo the suffix "Arms" to his nom de vivendi, "Charlie," as he's Asian. He's not Viet though, but I conveniently overlook this.

And then, they came.

Now, naturally they would come to Berkeley as trick-or-treating in Oakland is a life-and-death ordeal consisting of rolling gun battles sprinkled with distant echoes of bursting small arms fire. I jest, but to trick-or-treat in Oakland, just isn't a good idea. Let's just leave that at the doorstep along with the word "urban" as sufficient reason.

One kid had an afro in full bloom, most of the kids were black, some were brown -- all were more or less poor. It was a sad socio-economic observation to have made, at the time, yet one views Halloween celebrations in a different light after having gone through the grinder of formal college education for a while. To these children, none of the socio-economic gibberish meant anything -- they were just happy to be out of the house and to be getting free candy.

I was saddened that the bag of candy was exhausted when it was. My god, I think I just nearly felt an emotion.

No, no no wait, that was a fart.

posted by qalam on Thursday, October 28, 2004 at 08:15 p.m.

Palestinian security sources have revealed to the press that Yassir Arafat is to leave for Paris for further medical treatment.

Now, this is going to be interesting.

Thus far, the Israeli policy concerning any departure from Palestine undertaken by Arafat, has been noncommittal and vague. For good reason, the Zionists have played this policy ambiguity close to the vest, the sons of apes and pigs want to keep their options open. However, recent gestures have suggested that should Arafat leave, his return will be meet with some "difficulty."

Translation: The whores won't let him return.

So the Zionist Usurping Dogs of Occupation and Tyranny, have before themselves a grenade-wired dilemma. Either they let him back in to die of old age in his shelled and shot-up Ramallah compound, which is the wisest thing for the Occupation Monkeys to do, or they deny him his return.

If the Zionist Seed of Satan refuses him entry, martyrs will bear witness in reponse, whereas if they let him back in and he dies, buses will still explode, but atleast the Zionists can dodge some blame -- even though their existence is an act of international illegality, but leave that to their shysting lawyers to tackle.

Either way, may the resistance fighters of Hamas continue to lay siege against the enemy of justice and humanity: "Israel."

posted by qalam on Thursday, October 28, 2004 at 12:11 p.m.

It seems American rapper "Eminem" has made a foray into the political sphere with his latest music video ("MOSH") that scathingly rebukes Bush and alludes to Bin Laden as the product of an American CIA engineered political horror show. I just saw the music video online a few minutes prior to penning this entry, as a friend brought it to my attention. It slams Cheney, that war criminal and she-ass and carries a revolutionary political display of hooded masses seizing the White House.

It seems Arafat's health is failing, no doubt the Zionists and their monkeys couldn't be happier. If he dies, the Zionist entity should brace itself for waves upon waves of martyrs deluging the entity. No matter one's political opinion of Arafat in the pro-Arab context -- he dedicated his life to the liberation of his land and the destruction of those who held his people in bondage and subjugated them: the Zionists. He was the revolutionary liberator who brought the plight of the Palestinians to the forefront of global attention.

The day he dies will be a day of mourning, and Hamas will fill the void as militants vye for power. Hamas is clearly and has been for the last decade growing in power and popularity in The Territories as al-Fatah was waning and being systematically corrupted and weakened by the Zionist entity. Hamas will fill the power vacuum just as it has filled the social vacuum.

The end of an era is approaching us, sympathizers and activists for the rights of the Oppressed, that we will soon lose Arafat. May the martyrs who celebrate his passing demonstrate their zeal and take with them scores upon scores of Occupiers to mark the end of an era soon to be etched in the historical record.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, October 27, 2004 at 06:48 p.m.

I came across an interesting poem this evening, as amusing as it is crass. I was sitting and sipping a latte (What else? It's Berkeley.) with a classmate of mine when the urge to piss out the Atlantic overcame me.

I meandered over to the bathroom that Cafe Strada generously provides (for the purpose of returning to the Earth and poisoning it by the unnatural substances the cafe puts in the drinks,) and I shut the door behind me, and there I was. Dick aflop, pistol hand aiming it roughly at the center of the bowl, and it hits me. There's a mesmerizing kaleidiscopic, swirling and surreal melange of sharpie marker'd, crayon'd and penned graffiti. Everywhere. Shit's on the walls, the ceiling, the toilet and the lid were not shown mercy and spared, either.

By this point, pee is gushing out of me like tea from a dropped-then-shattered pot. Splish, splash and a dabble here and there for good measure. As I holster my instrument of Earthly pleasure, my wandering and still-confused eyeballs, see this:

"Sittin' on the bowl, muscles a flexin'... waitin' to push out yet another Texan."

Unfortunately, the author who penned this tresure left it anonymous. I believe I reproduced the grammar and syntax accurately so you, dearest reader, can gauge and digest this gem, in as authentic a manner as possible.

Now, in our current election-tension-saturated atmosphere, we all know who the Texan, in question, is. And he certainly fits the bill.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, October 26, 2004 at 07:04 p.m.

In yet another astonishing display of the befuddlement of US post-occupation security planning -- in the Iraqi town of Al-Qaq'a, some kilometers South of Baghdad -- over 350 tons of high explosive material was looted.

The accounts have the explosives listed as follows: HDX, RDX and PETN. Anyone who know anything about explosives knows that of the three, PETN is the most explosive and unfortunately for the US, most of the explosive material that was boosted, was... gasp, PETN.

350 tons of explosives, now that can light a few cigarettes.

If Zarqawi and his cohorts get their hands on even a fraction of it, bombs will still be going off well into the next century. Something tells me Zarqawi and his ilk aren't short of weapons and explosives, or men, either.

With news of this announcement about the missing explosives, I suspect the global media outlets won't have any dry spells of covering violence in Iraq.

posted by qalam on Monday, October 25, 2004 at 05:42 p.m.

As, Ramadan is celebrated across the planet, it serves as a solemn reminder and worthy metaphor to delineate between the hypocrites and the martyrs.

As, Muslim lands have been plundered and their reserves looted from the era of Christendom's first aggressions, 1095AD, as those lands are to this day the marked enemies of the West and subject to waves of missionaries and other assorted filth, it is time to delineate between the munafiqeen and the shuhada.

As, this very day in our era of transnational hyper-aggression on the part of the world's last remaining hegemon, shows us, even in times of decadence, abundance and amidst a world of buzzing and blinking entertainment and distraction, the aged and old battles and wars of religion and aggression which are writ large and in blood across the many ashen-hued pages of history, are only molding tomorrow -- it is time, during the honourable month of fasting and remembrance, to delineate between the munafiqeen and the shuhada.

As, the martyrs in Iraq fight the Crusaders every day and exact upon their ranks a heavy cost, and deprive them of solace and peace, the shuhada should be in the prayers of those who hold steadfast in this honourable month. While the Crusaders invaded and moved quickly only protect themselves and to secure Iraq's natural endowment of oil, those who hold this month dear should not forget their transgressions.

As, the Crusaders demonstrate with their war machine how willing they are to take life, and how the Zionists use them as beasts of burden to do their own wage of attacking an avowed enemy of Occupiers, Iraq -- during this honourable month, may the blood of the Crusading and plundering masses be shed, just as they have been shed.

As, Salah al-Din repulsed the Crusaders from the land of the third masjid so many centuries ago, so will the ummah al-hizb'allah adhere to the aim of resistance and strive to repulse these new aggressions by the same old foe. Now that the entire world has been shown that this aggression against Iraq was based purely on fabrication, the world has once more, as it has countless times in recent history, turned against America.

As, America makes blunder after repeated blunder, it has become despised in the Middle East and in the rest of the world and has been shown in its true light -- a nation which cares not for the blood of the innocent, but a nation marked by an army of cowards, a nation marked by an army of plunderers and ill-bred sub-human monstrosities birthed from the wombs of whores.

As, with any great empire, the US will one day have its power wane as it grows more hated in the world of decent people. Just as Rome fell, as Athens fell, as Berlin fell, so too will the empire that Washington has created, wane and fall.

As, the world continues to evolve, the dynamics of power will reflect poorly for the US as its future is one of tyranny around the globe, ignorance at home and ever-lasting target of resistance fighters around the world. It is a reputation of America's own design, a reputation of brutality against decent people in its undying lust for oil and continued military expansion.

As, a steadfast believer during this honourable month, one should not worry as to the certainty of justice against a harsh foe as it kills indiscriminately, abroad. History has shown, that as a great power rises, it carries within it the seeds of its own decay and collapse. The hypocrites which dot the contemporary political and social landscape in the Middle East, these corrupt American-funded leaders who suppress their own people, they are the cowards and the hypocrites worthy of barrages of assassin's bullets.

As, this honourable month comes and goes, the spirit of resistance imbued in every Iraqi and every decent person who resists the brutality and injustice of American hegemony in the Middle East, will, according to what history has shown of the course of empires, see that justice; as America, no different than any other empire, sees itself wane and is compelled to withdraw its tentacles and sever itself from its history of aggression and bloodshed.

posted by qalam on Sunday, October 24, 2004 at 12:00 p.m.

I have an interesting story to relate, pertinent to the gents.

So, my female friend, F., is in Michigan and is spending time with one of her old school chums, Yusra. Yusra has a boyfriend, S., who unwisely decided to take pictures of some guy he knew have sex with some lady in Yusra's apartment while she wasn't there. Both people were friend's of S.

Yusra found out about this as the images were still on S.'s camera-equipped mobile.

One can imagine that the conversation which ensued ended poorly for S. I thought the whole story, which was related to me by F., would prove a wise lesson for foolish boyfriends who suddenly get "bright ideas" in their heads which have to do camera-equipped mobiles and horny yet gender-opposite friends.

I thought the story was amusing enough. Poor, dear old S.

posted by qalam on Saturday, October 23, 2004 at 10:23 p.m.

So I called my Lali tonight and caught her at a bad moment, I think. I called as she was dining in a restaurant with some woman and I got a "Why are you calling?" feel from her response. Curt and cold.

After not calling her immediately after her operation, every day, in order to have her recuperate in peace, I try to make up for it because she made me feel like I was in the wrong. I try to call everyday, sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. So, I called tonight, and now wish I hadn't. Maybe she sounded like she did because she was in between bites -- who knows. I'm giving the benefit of the doubt; perhaps I'm too sensitive.

I need a hug.

posted by qalam on Friday, October 22, 2004 at 08:35 p.m.

Just downloaded yet another Moby album -- yes, I'm fixated. I don't know what it is, but there's an existential quality of ennui and contemplation which permeates his music. This is most discernable in his post-techno progression, when he moved into ambient and began to focus less on hard house and routine electronic beats.

So, as it stands, I have six of his albums -- 110 songs.

I know. Sickening.

posted by qalam on Friday, October 22, 2004 at 02:54 p.m.

My PS3 professor has assigned the class, "homework." Now, this evoked images of horror in my mind resonating deeply within me. The last time I was assigned "homework," was in high school. But, as you might've keenly noted -- I'm not in high school. I haven't been in high school for quite some while.

Now, I can tolerate having "homework" referred to with the more euphemistically agreeable appelation of: "a paper." Her choice of using "homework" was just poor diction, I hope. The entire auditorium reacted with sighs and groans, bespeaking their resignation and inurement to what "homework" meant and stood for.

"Homework" is what mangy high school students "do." I don't "do," "homework."

Now, this isn't to say I'm above it, I'm not. It's just the mere matter of having achieved, successfully, a higher academic station, and having that affirmed verbally by unkept professors -- would be nice, every now and again. Is that asking for their lives?

No.

I'm not being cantankerous; this is important, atleast to me. It's for the same reason students here do not refer to their professors as "teachers." It's the exact same concept. It is the affirmation and acknowledgement of the station one has achieved, irrespective of the role we play. Do you think a doctor of medicine would relish the thought of having to be referred to as "hey fixer-man" by some flea-ridden toad of a patient?

No.

That's all I'm saying. I'm not making some grand point or statement worthy of God's imprimatur. Students have worked their asses off to get where they are here, the least a mongrel ill-bred professor could do in the aim of acknowledging the validity of our delicate egos, is to use the proprietary college vernacular when referring to, dare I say it?

"Homework."

posted by qalam on Thursday, October 21, 2004 at 06:21 p.m.

It saddens me that my Lali ponders her worth; I wonder also, what kind of "boys" my Lali feels are more than she views herself capable of attaining.

Good wholesome Christian boys, possibly?

Possibly.

It also saddens me that she feels incapable of applying the "grace" she so dearly loves, to herself. Perhaps she feels that such a thing can only be bestowed upon her, and that it is beyond her own capacity to bestow such a thing, upon herself.

It's a theological minefield, without doubt. Unfortunately, given who I am: neither saint nor apostle -- my advice or view, albeit appreciated, surely, is want of the substantive and concrete solutions she probably would find useful.

However, in times such as these -- with the mind riddled by doubt, the flesh weak and the soul bereft of comfort, I would turn not to John 3:16, but to John 4:20, wherein it is written: "Ye sinners, cough not, as that which floats about in your lungs shall, verily, set ye free."

And to that, oh heavenly Father whom art in heaven, I say, Amen.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, October 20, 2004 at 06:50 p.m.

Upon checking my email this morning, a pleasant surprise was waiting -- an email from Berkeley having to do with an Electronic Funds Transfer to my account. Now, usually they do this before a semester begins, as I've never gotten free money in the middle of a semester.

The amount was quite a pleasing sum -- nigh USD$700.oo.

Can't say I'm displeased about that one whit, it was a lovely way to start the morning. Nothing beats free money.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, October 20, 2004 at 10:46 a.m.

The weather's been perfect -- hues of grey, all around. John apparently heard lightening last night. I didn't hear shit. It poured this morning and as I write this, it's still coming down. I hope this marks the end of Summer.

I also wound up getting a wireless netcard. It has the same specs as its NetGear counterpart but seemed easier to reach. Yes, I bought it because it was easier to reach. I'm not going to throw my knees out, for a NIC. It's just not happening.

Sorry.

The NIC I bought is a LinkSys G-Card which works flawlessly and is picking up network activity everywhere. I also picked up a better ethernet cord (25ft.) as the one I was using prior, was flimsy and tended to pop out of the port should even slight movement occur. The new cord fits snugly and makes a firm and pleasing "clink" upon insertion.

My system now meets my needs perfectly, and what's better is the memory is expandable up to a gig. I think that fact is better than candy on my lap.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, October 19, 2004 at 01:55 p.m.

My notebook's wireless reception is crappy, ergo a shiny new NetGear 54mbps PCMCIA card with integrated 128-bit RSA crypto (which is enough to prevent casual eavesdropping,) is what I'll probably pick up from the ASUC tomorrow.

Updated the comments section with a new template -- drab blue just isn't as appealing as it once was. (Like anyone but the angry first-time visitor leaves comments, anyway.)

I just finished a dry five-page paper for my one of my classes -- tedium. Nothing I'd rather do than write five pages of drivel recounting the occupation of Japan sprinkled with animated discourse on the personal quirks of a late General MacArthur -- nope, there's nothing I'd rather do, than that. Well, being immolated sounds appealing, admittedly.

It's late, and I'd better get some sleep before I become delirious and begin to roam the streets of Berkeley.

posted by qalam on Monday, October 18, 2004 at 11:23 p.m.

Just returned from Tang after returning my prescription to them after noting a red, rather than a gray tint to the lens -- as a I had originally requested. My questions about the prescription being too strong were casually brushed to the side with the cautious admonition of "You should get used to them after a little while."

I suppose. I suppose they'd better be right.

My Lali just had her birthday on Friday, however her mother's intense yet fleeting abdominal pain did put an initial damper on the weekend. That woman needs a good looking at -- pain that intense warrants thorough medical screening. Sunday after, of all things, church, Lali's brother being who he is, refused to get the car and bring it around for my lali (his sister) despite her obvious pain and post-surgical recooperation; rather he decided it was better to lollyfaggot around with his friends and leave me alone with my Lali, beside a telephone poll, making sure she doesn't collapse and at the mercy of some Asian girl who asked us if we needed a ride.

As usual, I found lali's brother's behavior sociopathic and disturbing. He, ofcourse, rationalized it all before he and his friend dropped me off at the airport. I felt like I needed a shower, right then. His meek justifications for leaving my Lali in her condition, seeped into my pores and I felt sickened by it.

Woe.

The Israelis have left about 200 people dead, most of them innocent people and demolished about the same number of homes, after having pulled their American tanks out of Gaza and back into the abomination of Erez Israel. Something tells me the Qassam's will continue raining down on the heads of these Zionist filth (as they should,) and Hamas will not cede to these barbaric Israelis.

It turns out Soufan Engineering, an Emirati based firm assisting Crusader occupation forces had two of its Eastern European workers seized and killed. Tauheed should start targetting the UAE for its support of the Occupation. Godforesaken whores those plump yellow Emirati profiteers are.

posted by qalam on Monday, October 18, 2004 at 10:01 a.m.

Public Service Announcement:

Bismillah al-Rahman al-Raheem.

Today marks the beginning of the holy month of Ramadan. May your du'as be accepted and sins forgiven.

(Unless you really fucked up, in which case may you burn in the cauldron of hell for the rest of eternity.)

posted by qalam on Friday, October 15, 2004 at 10:10 a.m.

I just downloaded a copy of Kill Bill 2. It was worth every cent I didn't pay for it. Perks of college living -- access to a T3 line; Atleast 10mbps, oh yes, glory days at last.

An attack within the "Green Zone" left four Occupiers slain some while ago -- a token of appreciation, something to humble the arrogant. Apparently there were two blasts: both of them suicide operations. "Thud," is the sound that bullshit makes when it hits the floor.

Bullshit, like, say, Bush landing on some aircraft carrier beneath an unfurled banner proclaiming "Mission Accomplished." I'm sorry Mr. President, while you relax and drink daiquiris after having washed your arms up to your elbows clean from the blood of the innocent they were just submerged in -- your business in Iraq you may deem concluded, but the business of the Resistance with your troops and plundering hoardes, is not concluded.

No, Mr. Bush, I dare say that business is far from being "accomplished." Rather, the Resistance will submerge its arms up to the shoulders in the blood of your Marines as you submerged your arms into the bodies of the people and tore out from them their will to live; tore out from them their hopes that you were going to be better than a warlord.

As your brave, freedom-loving Marines shoot at innocent people, remember the enemies you have made. As your brave, freedom-loving Marines, your Crusaders, terrorize the poor of Iraq, remember the deaths for which you are personally responsible. As your own Crusaders fight beneath a banner of lies: lies of phantom WMD's and flighty shadows of thin reasoning -- remember, Mr. Bush, in the Middle-East, blood spilled, is not blood forgotten.

More news from Israel: a state that wants us all to believe it's a victim of terrorism. Gee, I wonder why.

"After she was shot [schoolgirl,] he [Israeli soldier] approached Imam, 13, as she lay on the ground, and then fired two bullets at her body before emptying the contents of his rifle magazine into her."

posted by qalam on Thursday, October 14, 2004 at 02:18 p.m.

It's a shame Christians who support Israel so fervently refuse to understand that they're being used as tools by Zionists and shown nothing but contempt.

It's interesting further to note that these same Christians who support Israel so fervently, who probably won't even click on the link above should it shatter their dream of an ever-lasting Zionist love festival, continue to believe that if they ship all the Jews of the world to Israel, that this is somehow going to trigger an apocalypse or the second coming of Yeshua. I just don't see it.

Now, I'm not saying it won't happen, I'm just saying...

... it won't happen.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, October 13, 2004 at 08:25 p.m.

I've been noticing a disturbing trend, this semester at Cal. Unlike last semester, there was one midterm and one final and sundry random assignments littered in between, however this semester it seems professors have moved in the direction of taking midterms and splitting them.

Ergo, two midterms. This is a travesty. If this nonsense behavior continues, I'll move to abjure all of my hitherto adhered social norms concerning respecting professors. Two midterms? Two bitch-slaps.

I think that's fair.

Yesterday I spent a few hours in the University Publishing Book House, (it was was some aggrandized title like that,) on Bancroft. I went through their IR/IP/Near East section and along with all of the standard fare books on Islam and so forth -- they also carried two books which attracted my attention. One was a political and social history of Hezbollah and another work was on the Palestinian Hamas.

Not having cash on me and their inability to process plastic transactions meant a delay in the acquisition of these two items. I'll return, this time lugging sacks of $1's behind me.

A few days ago I purchased a pair of DKNY sunglasses as I lost my clip-on sunglasses in a movie theater some while ago. It's about time I went about acquiring a pair of prescription sunglasses. Upon receiving a phole call informing me that they're ready, I'll stroll in and retrieve them.

The heat has been unrelenting. This last week spelled atleast 80F consistently -- Summer's final bid to burn my ass. I've stayed indoors to prevent a heat stroke and a subsequent early demise. I can't go dying now, I haven't inflicted myself upon enough people yet.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, October 12, 2004 at 02:47 p.m.

"Garcon, I'd like the main entree, a side order of fifteen amphibious assault vehicles, a dozen or so Chinese SAM platforms, a liberal sprinkling of vinegar and whatever the house white is, this evening."

Recent news -- Superman has died. I always knew he wasn't all that. "Kryptonite," my salsa-stained fingers. A horse broke his super-magical powers and a coma took his life. How miserable is that? Leaping bounds indeed, right over that horse's head. Hah.

posted by qalam on Monday, October 11, 2004 at 03:13 p.m.

In the midst of a surprise visit to Anbar by War Criminal Donald Rumsfeld, moqawama units struck at the Iraqi Oil Ministry, the attack sent 18 to their graves. The device, unfortunately, detonated prematurely; another suicide attack however claimed the flesh of one Crusader soldier.



In other news, the harsh and criminal policies of Israel have earned the ire of this church. I only wish every church had the sense and sanity this one does in their measurement and objectivity in realizing the true nature of Zionist Occupation and its criminal acts.

posted by qalam on Sunday, October 10, 2004 at 12:25 p.m.

Afghans for the first time have recently voted in national elections. Gen. Rashid Dostum, a notorious bastard of an Uzbek warlord ran for the office but later joined in the boycott of the results because a trivial little matter of the "indelible" marker delineating between those who have voted and those who haven't, wasn't so trivial as the marker wasn't so "indelible," after all.

Democracy is a fine notion and I am of the mind that people should have it, however I find that its legitimacy is called into serious question when people who run for office and win turn out to be under the thumb of US influence.

Does this tarnish the record of democracy? Certainly not, however people should be aware of the systemic vulnerabilities that exist when the last global hegemon decides to meddle in the affairs of other sovereign states.

Ofcourse, I'll join in the rallying call for democracy, but surely let those who vote, vote for candidates, and not puppets.

Thankfully, at the Egyptian resort town of Taba, numerous bomb blasts took place wounding and killing a slew of Israelis. It's always a nice accent on the evening wind-down to hear of Usurpers receiving their comeuppance.

Jacques Derrida, famous philosopher of the contemporary era, whose central and most influential work revolved around a discipline he founded: Deconstructionism -- has died. Kaput. Deconstructionism has to do with the underlying meanings of syntax and the written word that exists layers beneath the veneer of the superficial meaning words generally evoke. Essentially, another useless thinker has died. I saw a documentary about him once and was marginally impressed. One of my GSI's was a big fan of Derrida.

I've always found myself to be of the more philosophical persuasion, but Derrida's work however original it may be, was really non-substantive in terms of what it brought the world in the form of a new, radically advanced contextual framework for more sophisticated analyses of social phenomena.

The world needs something more advanced than the tired and hackneyed notions of 20th century social theorization, and not another knock-off, even if the knock-off incorporates elements of original thinking. What people such as Derrida have done, does not constitute laudable progress. If anything, it shows the intellectual bankruptcy of modern theory, as we cling to these threads with our brittle grasp and expect those threads to hold the ever-increasing weight of world problems.

The more often we assign "genius" or "greatness" as labels, to theories which can be dismantled by ten-year olds or to theories which are re-interpretations of interpretations which are subject to endless rigorous analyses that leads nowhere, the more we throw into sharp relief the laziness and impotence of our current intellectual culture.

Derrida and thinkers like him who do little more than play games of semantic hide-and-seek and taxonomical musical chairs with established meanings, impress me not one whit. I am more easily impressed by the child whose years mark him no older than ten and who utters a groundbreaking revelation like, "Big Bird isn't really a bird!"

INTERPRETATION DOES NOT CONSTITUTE INNOVATION. DERRIDA: MAY YOU BE BURNING IN HELL TO AN IMPECCABLE CRISP.

Now...

I'm not saying that he was a bad man, gasp, or a weak thinker, I'm sure he always dotted i's and crossed t's.

posted by qalam on Saturday, October 9, 2004 at 01:58 p.m.

After leaving Warren Hall not more than two hours ago, tinged with a sense of post-midterm melancholy which has become standard fare after such taxing times, I went about my usual route and there in Sproul was, of all people -- Howard Dean, speaking.

Were it not for the ground, my jaw would still be dropping.

I was surprised, to say the least. Had I sported my digital camera I would've posted images to no end of my superhero. Alas, this was all too unexpected. The crowd was easily in the thousands -- easily. He mentioned Bush's tyranny and his fascism, his lust for the blood of the innocent and his occasional penchant for eating little Muslim babies. Beyond all of that, he called conservatives "right-wing crackpots," which they, indisputably, certainly, all are.

Hearing his speech and his vision for a better America was genuinely rousing and as a radicalized partisan, I was all the more enthralled to hear him. It was a special treat which bursted the melancholy I was feeling.

I caught a good forty-five minutes of his speech before he gave the stage to two ACLU speakers, and that's when the crowds began to disperse and gingerly move on to other things. He exhorted the crowds and the youth to run for office, and said that even library trustees are worthy positions otherwise they'd be taken over by people, who rather than being interested in reading books would be more inclined to burn them. That elicited a roaring cheer from the masses with a few noticeable exclamations made which sounded a lot like "Fuck Bush!" Ahem, perhaps they were.

Democratic Party apparatchiks were milling about and one lovely little gal stopped me and asked me if I was willing to donate. Right about now, is when I would normally begin snarling and meandering off -- not this time, compatriots. I donated thirty-dollars to the Democratic Party -- and I feel damned good about it. Dean, made me feel good about it -- and the shared community of hissing and snarling Deanites and anti-Bush partisans, made me feel good about it, too.

posted by qalam on Friday, October 8, 2004 at 01:55 p.m.

Conclusively, the Iraq Survey Group has shown Iraq possessed neither program nor capability in terms of Weapons of Mass Destruction. The Iraq Survey Group is CIA-sponsored, which serves as a genuine blow against the lies of Bush and his war-whore staff.

The CIA itself has stated by way of this report that Iraq was WMD-free pre-invasion. Now that it has been irrefutably proven that Bush is a lair and responsible for the deaths of over one thousand Crusader soldiers, Republicans in their everlasting loyalty to their own stupidity and ignorance will surely, still, not see the light.

Ofcourse, there's never any hope for them. Irrepressable, unstoppable and persevering ignorance and stupidity is their hallmark. Republicanism being a byword for stupidity, just as "Bush" is one such byword.

Unfortunately, this lot of war criminals will in all probability be elected care of the enormously large fuck-our-moms-and-bang-our-sisters contingent of voters.

posted by qalam on Thursday, October 7, 2004 at 02:39 p.m.

I think I discovered a home remedy for backlogged shit -- Arizona beverages which come in those obscenely phallic cans. I had some Chinese for dinner, passed that with force comparable to bullets being fired from a rifle.

This is where my evening troubles, began.

So I blow God's fury out of my ass, all well and good, I return to my room and herein lies my grievous error: I continued to drink the Arizona tea.

Not ten minutes go by, and I think to myself "Well shit, this is getting familiar."

I go back to the bathroom, agitated, thinking my ass is toying with me. I shoot a jetstream of fiery hot fluid out of my ass. Afterwards, I return to my room and resume my role as protagonist in this heretofore familiar narrative: drinking the damned ice tea.

So I finish it. The Arizona is gone and I'm halfway into the second can, and it hits me: "Shit, I do believe there is a non-confounding Z-variable-free correlation to be observed here."

I return to the bathroom, for the third time. Pure pain burns open my anus and magma dribbles into the toilet. Oh yes ladies and gents, this is pain. It felt as though Satan herself stuck her flaming arm in me, twisted and pulled. That kind of pain, is what coursed out of me.

I write this to divulge a hitherto unknown aspect of my tolerance -- shitting thrice, is my limit for a day.

Amen.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, October 5, 2004 at 10:14 p.m.

The sons of apes and pigs, the Zionist monkeys have recently arrested 13 UN personnel for their alleged connection "to terrorism."

As proof, the Usurpers and Occupiers, these munafiqeen have produced an intelligence image which depicts a resistance fighter loading a rocket into the back of a UN ambulance.



All this proves, is that the Zionist offal of whores can use Photoshop in order to discredit the UN on the ground.

However, if it is true that the UN personnel are assisting the resistance, then long live the UN and its support of the moqawama. All the more reason get a job with them in NYC.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, October 5, 2004 at 02:00 p.m.

Mr. Bush, you are responsible for this.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, October 5, 2004 at 12:09 p.m.

Cream's "White Room" and Soft Cell's "Tainted Love" are positively two of the best songs I've ever heard.

Turns this munadil into mush.

Ooh, tainted love...

posted by qalam on Monday, October 4, 2004 at 10:54 p.m.

Lebanese Hizbullah and rival Shi'a militia Amal engaged in armed clashes Wednesday night. This shit tends to happen every now and again. A brief overview is instructive -- during the Lebanese civil war myriad groups struggling for power emerged; of them arose Amal and sundry others. Members of Amal fearing the new moderate overtures made by the group, decided to split.

Hizbullah is born.

I haven't stopped popping off champagne bottles, since.

Not only does the party harass the Israelis, but gasp, it hasn't deviated in its aims and aspirations like other groups have, like Amal for example, has.

Other groups and countries (Misr, inter alia) who have prostituted their beliefs for a false peace have done so only to their own ignominy and regional decline. As shrines are defiled and human rights abuses mount, nations who've accepted the legitimacy of the Zionist standard of terror have grown despised by their own people.

If the national governments of Egypt, Jordan and others, had half the 'aql and rajula Hizbullah has exhibited since its inception in dealing with the Zionists -- the region would look vastly different.

Instead, the standard fare applies. Cowards and apologists run these governments and those with the backbone and intelligence to make a difference must act on their own.

posted by qalam on Sunday, October 3, 2004 at 08:27 p.m.

Unfortunately, I missed the presidential debate.

I really wish I could've seen the monkey writhe in agony over tediously re-using ever last word in his 300-word lexicon in attempting to justify his blunder in Iraq.

Kerry, I'm sure, did no better, given that he's a man of dry character and sedate mood. I'm sure Kerry spent half the time pointing out Bush's flaws. (Of which, there are so many they blot out the sun.)

Kerry probably kept referring to Bush as "Mr. President" in lieu of the deserved and more taxonomically correct title of "chimpanzee."

Kerry surely dealt Bush deadly blow after destructive blow... with the same excitement and vigor the average librarian arranges the dewey decimal system in the local library.

posted by qalam on Friday, October 1, 2004 at 03:27 p.m.

al-Qa'ida and Guinean forces cross swords over a battle of healthy respiratory systems and pain-free urination.

A true mujahid freed from Guantanamo Bay returns to his native Denmark vowing to fight with the moqawama in Chechnya. A model of character and rajula who breathes the spirit of jihad in his exertions in the aim of redeeming the dignity of the Occupied and Oppressed.

May a rose break the surface and catch the first drop of this martyr's blood should he succumb in the aim of his inspired duty.

posted by qalam on Thursday, September 30, 2004 at 01:12 p.m.

A recently performed space flight test has been carried out confirming expectatations that near-term space exploration has viable potential (read: commercial.)

I think this is quite exciting news -- a novel and refreshing way for the obscenely wealthy to amuse themselves.

This recent demonstration won the "Ansari X" prize. As the process of production and manufacture continues to become increasingly cost-effective, the unwashed masses (like us) can foul up outer-space once the rich have had their first fill. Sloppy space seconds, as it were.

I'm all for shooting people into the outer nethers of the charted realm. I can list a number of people I wouldn't mind seeing smashed to bits or expanded into ungodly dimensions due to one "tragic and unfortunate" space mishap or another having to do with accidental de-pressurization by being blown out into space or succumbing to incorrectly pressurized space toilets exploding sending their shit-smeared corpses flying about the cabin and smashing into instrument consoles and so on.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 29, 2004 at 11:49 p.m.

Nothing new to report. One midterm out of the way, and still waiting for Summer to die off.

Israel took responsibility for killing a higher-tier Hamas operative about a week ago. The Syrians knew it was the Zionists, it's not like anyone needed them to cop to it, those asses.

Been busy, haven't been able to update the site in a while, things are sporadic now that I finally have something to fill the hours with rather than concoct caustic visceral rants against issues on my shit list.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, September 28, 2004 at 02:46 p.m.

Enjoyed breakfast this morning at a little and heretofore unknown spot named "Mongo Burger," where of all things they had on offer -- shish kebab sandwiches.

I ordered it, naturally.

I have no drive whatsoever to enage in any sort of academic reading or writing today, ergo I'll stall until tomorrow, when I'll be pressed into writing yet another paper -- dry without parallel, boring with comparison and tedious without contrast.

Groan.

posted by qalam on Saturday, September 25, 2004 at 02:32 p.m.

Everything's been transferred to the laptop and now my old rig is redundant. eBay's the place I'l be selling my unit for whatever pittance it can attract.

I have a midterm paper already and it's not even mid-semester yet. Only five pages so I'm not all that concerned. I think I'll fare a nice GPA this semester, I'm getting good vibes all around.

posted by qalam on Friday, September 24, 2004 at 08:35 a.m.

Got my laptop in the mail yesterday. It's in perfect working order and is in mint physical condition. The only surprise came in the form of the language pack installed on the unit. It was Japanese. Imagine my shock when I saw little squiggly lines everywhere rather than the normal, barbaric, phallic, upright individual letters which compose English.

I took care of that problem by re-installing a liberated copy of XP Pro with its default English language pack. All that remains now is transferring my hard drive, installing a few things on it here and there and registering its MAC address with local computing so I can log onto the network.

Ofcourse, I have the means to forge the MAC address with a MAC from another system that's already registered, but my days of shady computing have come and gone. Total price of the unit including 2nd day UPS shipping -- $USD909, which is a steal, given a unit like this would easily sell for $USD1200, easily. Now, it's off to selling my desktop rig, to which admittedly I have sentimental attachments. It's the same desktop I've used over the years to update my blog with viciousness and cruelty, it's the end of an era.

My rig should fetch about $USD300-400, which is fine by me once I sell it on eBay, which no doubt the feds would purchase from me to comb through the hard drive for anything to incriminate me with. Unfortunately for them, the hard drive will not only be wiped, but the entire OS will be reloaded and set on its factory condition, ergo overwriting the contents.

So I'm happy. I got a really good unit for a really good deal, eBay's the shit, the shizzle and all those other urban references to coolness.

posted by qalam on Thursday, September 23, 2004 at 12:56 p.m.

Hey everyone, look, it's our illegitimate president sporting his vintage chimp smirk!

I think I should have a raffle on this site to see what reader wins the prize of plugging in the chair. Isn't there a law against executing the mentally retarded? Bush looks so proud in that picture, next time he might be able to sit at the big-boy table.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 22, 2004 at 11:26 a.m.

Today, a female martyr detonated near a bus stop which picks up Zionists on their way into their illegal settlements in West Bank. One occupier was slain in the attack and a few others injured. The martyr's name is unknown at this point nor is it known what organization claims her.

People always blame the Palestinians for defending their lands and dignity by the only means they have at their disposal, yet the whole world is blind to what Israel does which fuels this cycle of retribution.

Israel can neither kill, nor occupy with impunity. With the killing of Hamas operatives in Gaza, dozens take their place, ready and willing to be martyrs, zealously. As Israel's economy stagnates and its puppet, America, continues to alienate itself from the world and therefore make itself even more of a target for terrorists, solutions exist which no sides are willing to acknowledge.

Israel, in its policy of state terrorism and assassination cannot win security and peace through utilizing tools of terror, they refuse to learn this lesson. The Palestinians on the other hand, experiencing a demographic explosion will show Israel and it has shown Israel that no amount of murder and violence they commit will extinguish the zeal of Hamas to exterminate Occupiers.

Long live the resistance.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 22, 2004 at 07:48 a.m.

The US has once again shown total disregard for international law by proving once more that it does not give a shit about a regional balance of power. Rather, the US is going to sell the Jewish state over 5,000 bunker-busting bombs for use against Iran should it achieve or come close to achieving nuclear status.

I hope Iran has prepared for this contingency by preparing the infrastructural counter-measures and safeties in response to the possibility that these filthy kelbi yahudis and their puppet the Zionist-run US would do something as stupid as this.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, September 21, 2004 at 08:21 p.m.

Tomorrow is my lady's big day -- some jitters have yet to be overcome, but I'm not concerned. She'll pass out gracefully under the knock-out gas with Olympic grace; fluid motion and a satisfying "thump" into the pillow.

I don't know how long the op. is supposed to take but it's labor intensive so it would last the better part of tomorrow, I imagine.

I should receive the laptop tomorrow barring any calamities, like the world coming to an end. Pictures of the unit are a few posts below for those who've yet to glimpse this fine masterpiece of design and its corollary meticulous precision of function and unerring reliability. (Ideally.)

Thankfully, a roomie has an external drive with enough space to act as an intermediary data transfer unit between the desktop and laptop. This saves me a few hundred bucks in lieu of having to buy a state-of-the-art 250gig external drive. Yeah, my sentiments exactly. A cacaphonic "Fuck that."

The feds seem to have gone away -- no more surprise visits over tea and terror, they haven't yet come to me. I'm still waiting. I know I'll be under surveillance for a very, very long time. It doesn't bother me.

Hey feds, you lackey bastards, when you come talk to me, don't forget to bring some Subway sandwiches from the place on Bancroft, I'll probably be hungry when you queers show up. You shits. Yeah, and your mothers.

That friendly invitation aside, the bums at Berkeley have decided to fester about on campus rather than stay put on the street. Just today, walking out of class some bum heckled a passing crowd of some dozen people, mostly asians, about whether or not they feel special because they're here. I believe it was something like "Heyyah you, UC BERKELEY! You're all special huh???!!!"

Most people in Sproul plaza heard that line, perhaps he studied at Julliard before going nuts and arriving at Berkeley, because he had quite the booming voice.

"Yes, we are special. We're Berkeleyans, you bum motherfucker."

I should've gone over and smothered him with a plastic bag, dragged him off and buried him in Memorial glade. That urge was my big "fuck you!" to tolerance. Tolerance, it's so quaint, I mean bum-killing should mean tax-credits, not jail time. Rack them up motherfuckers, rack them up.

Shit, was that outloud? Fuck blimey.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, September 21, 2004 at 06:07 p.m.

"I've always wanted to improve and expand on the good name of my weapon by doing good things," he told Reuters Television.

I suppose this was going to happen sooner or later. Mikhail Timefeyovich Kalashnikov, creater of the world-famed Abtomat Kalashnikov model year 1947 (actually released into general service in 1953) has released a vodka under his name, sporting a stiff 82 proof kick I might add.

"So we decided to create a vodka under my name. And we wanted that vodka to be better than anything made, up until now, in both Russia and England." said Kalashnikov.

His weapon, used by assassins, guerrillas, gangsters, and incorporated in the form of knock-offs into almost every major army in the world, like Israel's ripoff, the "Galil," will now have the name KALASHNIKOV emblazoned on the face of every bottle exported; I might buy one just to have one.

(Interestingly, the AK-47 is prominently featured in silhouette on the national flag of Mozambique.)

Here's the man to whom revolutionary liberators owe their firepower, the designer of a weapon that has marched slamming boot over boot across the face of this planet, giving a toast during the ceremonial announcement.



Na zdorovia, Lieutenant General.

In other news -- recently, today quite probably, Unity and Jihad (Zarqawi's bunch) off'd a one Eugene fellow, seen below with the quotes indicating "dead." Unfortunate, I know. Those responsible are also shown below, indicated by the quotes "The chaps." What's worse, is this Eugene bloke was probably an innocent person, however, let's give Zarqawi the benefit of the doubt. I mean, he's done everything he said he would do, the Americans haven't; so whose word should we trust?

posted by qalam on Monday, September 20, 2004 at 01:49 p.m.

Today, the assassination of two influential Sunni Sheikhs was carried out by Shi'a assassins in response to anti-Shi'a pronouncements they had made inciting anti-Shi'a fervors. The assassinated yazeedi scum are as follows:

Sheikh Hazim al-Zaidi, the Sunni Imam of Baghdad's al-Sajjad mosque. He was kidnapped Sunday afternoon while leaving the temple in Sadr City, a heavily Shiite Muslim district, al-Zaidi spokesman Ammar al-Siger said. His body was later delivered back to the mosque, unmutilated, out of respect.

The second cleric, Sheikh Mohammed Jado'ou, was gunned down Monday in southwest Baghdad's al-Baya'a district. Jado'ou was leaving prayers at al-Kwather mosque when gunmen in a vehicle drove next to him and opened fire.

These Wahabbiyeh anti-Shi'a yazeedi munafiq kafireen insh'allah will continue to be assassinated, blown up and gunned down in broad daylight whenever they slander and incite hatreds against the-already-victimized Shi'a of Iraq. Every day, is Ash'ura. Everyday, these kaffir zalimun yazeedi sheikhs will exhale their last breath in the sublime presence of the supreme martyrs of Shi'at Ali.

In other news, Abu Zarqawi's Jihad wal Tawheed (Struggle and Unity) still holds three Western hostages and their fates remain unknown.

posted by qalam on Monday, September 20, 2004 at 10:24 a.m.

Breaking news -- Iran, in a valiant show of defiance and strength: Hassan Rohani, Iran's chief nuclear negotiator has stated the following:

"Iran will not accept any obligation regarding the suspension of uranium enrichment,"

"No international body can force Iran to do so," he added.

This came in response to the IAEA's increasing pressure on Iran regarding its nuclear program. Thankfully, the Shi'a nation-state is willing to show that it will fight on this issue of self-determination.

Iran is willing to show that it will bend to no external Zionistic hegemonic pressures and that it will pursue whatever plans it deems necessary to safeguard its future from American and Zionist imperial ambitions.

I'm extremely pleased at this recent piece of information, this is an act of tremendous courage and unparalled defiance in the face of those who would wish to make yet another Muslim state subservient to the will of the zalimun.

Iran has once again shown its zeal and fortitude in standing up to the slanderers and traitors both in Iran and in the rest of the world, that Iran will not be made puppet, stooge or fool to Zionism or American hegemonic expansionist imperialism.

posted by qalam on Saturday, September 18, 2004 at 11:48 p.m.

Militants have threatened to kill three Western hostages unless all female Iraqi prisoners are set free. These hostages have appeared today on Jazeera with the following identities -- Briton Kenneth Bigley, and US colleagues Jack Hensley and Eugene Armstrong -- were shown blindfolded in a video broadcast by al-Jazeera TV.



Hostages, bombings, shootings -- violence and political instability, a hallmark of American intervention since Nixon and before him. These people are unwelcome, and their respective countries care not one whit as to their well-being.

Next note: The latest UN resolution imposes an indirect deadline of 25 November, when the IAEA board of governors is next set to meet, for Iran to show a confidence measure to demonstrate their program will be dismantled or heavily monitored. Iran's delegate said a decision "about a range of suspension" would be taken in Tehran in the next few days with regard to the nuclear program in operation.

"This is a new lie, like the last 13 lies based on news reports that have been proved to be lies," Hossein Mousavian, Iran's chief delegate to the IAEA board meeting, said. Below is an image of the Bushehr facility.



I used to remember seeing Home Alone when I was younger, when I lived in LA, and wondering what the life of a star must be like. I always viewed them as beyond reproach and somehow standing a step above the vicissitudes of life which affected the rest of us.

Recently, Culkin was caught in Oklahoma City as a passenger in a vehicle with over a thousand dollars worth of marijuana in his possession along with sundry prescription drugs for which he had no paperwork.



It appears the challenges we all face in life harbor no favours for those in the upper strata of fame and stardom. The boy, now a man, at the age of 24 -- has shown me, and the rest of the world that the thoughts of innocence we all once possessed concerning those above our station in fortune and fame, are unfortunate veneers which serve only to comfort our hopes that not everyone in life suffers, as we do.

posted by qalam on Saturday, September 18, 2004 at 01:06 p.m.

Today, the moqawama struck against the stooges of Occupation at a check point on al-Rashid street.



Eight stooges were sent to their graves by this attack, compared to the last attack which took place on Tuesday: the tactic was the same -- carbombing. In that attack, forty-seven stooges of Occupation were sent to their graves.

The police there obviously aren't questioning or wondering why their own fasiqeen asses are being bombed like clockwork. The answer is this: They compromise the sovereignty of Iraq by cooperating with Occupiers to attack resistance fighters.

"...ya mujahid, is it 1 o'clock yet?..."

"..."

"Wallah Abu? It's 1 o' clock!? Time to bomb the mushriks!"

Because of that, they are not legitimate state police but stooges of Occupation in the pocket of the zalimun Occupiers to whom these foolish stooges have sworn their muwalaat. That's why they continue being bombed whereupon the moqawama then goes and gets some coffee.

posted by qalam on Friday, September 17, 2004 at 10:58 a.m.

Happy Rosh Hashanah everyone. (Yahudi New Year)

No wonder everyone today wore their yarmulkes. For a while, I swore I felt as though I were adrift at sea amidst an unending horizon of yarmulkes bobbing up and down and side to side. As I walked around passing Jew after Jew... after Jew, I scratched my head and to my horror: it was uncovered. In the span of a second, I thought I was a bad Jew who forgot his yarmulke at home. I was in a state of apprehension and torment until I realized... I wasn't a Jew.

It's days like this I wonder if the Holocaust really happened, perhaps the Germans transported all of their Jews to Berkeley? You know, for six million dead Jews... someone's been BANGING, to have popped out all the yahudis I saw today. When I woke up and got around to walking to class, I thought I took a wrong turn and walked into a campus-wide AIPAC convention.

I imagine I won't see any yarmulkes being worn tomorrow as the Jews on campus will go back to their normal, unassuming and covert lives of running America and global finance and industry. See folks, Rosh Hashanah is a good thing.

It's a good thing because, once a year, we can all look around and spot our masters.

Allow me a few observations:

1. I saw more yarmulkes today than I saw asians. I know. Shocking.
2. The asians I did see, realized quickly who their bosses were.
3. I saw more yarmulkes than bums today. (a slight exaggeration)
4. One of my classes was cancelled due to the professor observing
   the new year. I knew she was a Jew. I knew it.

posted by qalam on Thursday, September 16, 2004 at 05:51 p.m.

Some jackbooted Zionists have put pressure on a Japanese film distributor to cancel plans of exhibiting Hitler's watercolor painting of Karlskirche.

"The move followed a protest by a Jewish human
rights group that the display risked trivialising
the holocaust"

Now, how would showing a painting trivialize the Holocaust? See, this is the kind of thuggish and jackbooted behavior that fuels the anti-Jewish strain of global anti-Semitism.

What do they fear?

Do they fear that by showing Hitler as a person of creative, artistic attributes would mean the end of the Jewish monopoly of global Holocaust guilt? Does portraying Hitler as a human being (which he was) deprive global Zionism of the noose with which it has hung the moral body politic of the world for the last half century?

Ofcourse, the answer is a resounding "No."

The Ukranians lost over 25 million to war, I don't see them shutting down art exhibits where Stalin might be featured.

What makes this Jewish "specialness" believe it has the right to hijack the creative expression of the world simply because that art was composed by some horrible people?

Is cabalistic global Jewry so writhing in fear from the possibility that the world might come to understand the Hitlerian myth and realize there was once a man of flesh and blood behind it, and not merely a horrible man?

Does admiring this watercolor make you a Jew-hating Holocaust-denier?

posted by qalam on Thursday, September 16, 2004 at 10:44 a.m.

Ever have one of those days where you just wish you could drive up to the local police station with, say, this mounted on the bed of your pickup?



I used to have thoughts like that whenever I got a ticket, then I resigned myself to the truth of knowing that it would still, all, be for naught.

I used to have those days when I wish I could've shoved the muzzle of this into one specific GSI's face:



But it seems I'm no longer racked with care. I suppose that could be a good thing. The semester has begun and my prof.'s and GSI's this time around seem to be grounded and have their hearts in the right place.

And, on a final note, why is it the Persians up here are all white-washed, money-hungry, venal, arrogant and treacherous bastards? Must be the money their parents make. There's no point to this post (presumptuous to think that there is a point to anything I write, I know) but I felt like I had to contribute my allotment of general daily anomie and disregard.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 15, 2004 at 07:12 p.m.

For people who operate their own blogs -- an interesting (and useful) site found its way onto my screen.

I hope this helps a few people out.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 15, 2004 at 03:57 p.m.

I read, "She bit me and removed all of it,"

After reading that, I knew things weren't off to a very pleasant start for the protaganist in this story. It followed with, "I don't have a penis now," and that, my dear chums, spellt the bitter end for any hope of this story ever possibly ending on any note of joy.

As though it couldn't get any worse for the poor Maasai man -- "On the evening of the assault, Mr Mewet returned home at 2200 and was beaten up by his wife just after he drifted off to sleep."

You know you've had a bad day when you wake up, get your dill bitten off by none other than your wife, then fall asleep that evening to a sound beating.

To insert yet another gem of a quote:

"After hitting her husband and knocking out his front teeth, Mrs. Mewet bit off his testicles and despite his struggles when he awoke, chewed off his penis."

One can always count on the beeb to bring the world treasures like this so the masses can consume with horror.

I wonder if the following can be translated into the Maasai dialect:

"Dem fuckin' bitches is crayzee!"

This is the poor dickless bastard in question. Can you see that wide gap in his smile? Wife was responsible for that little token of appreciation. That face just says it all.


[caption: "I done got beat."]

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 15, 2004 at 03:04 p.m.

You know, I used to think there were lines that desperate men wouldn't cross in order to evade the police. They would engage in high speed chases; execute dangerous evasive maneuvers; point pistols out of windows; occasionally, they'd fire their weapons at police from the vehicle they had commandeered. A precedent has been set, gents, that calls into question the humanity of some people. A redneck from Wisconsin used his fiancee's child as a means to get away. Somehow in his twisted mind, perhaps he believed the police would stop and let him merely drive off.

In other news, here's a lesson the US and its corporations could learn from how the Chinese handle their business. Kenny Boy, the dickless motherfucks who made up his circle and the conservative witless cunts who pilfered while their employees saw their savings dwindle, should have in store the same fate that the Chinese recently delivered to their own corporate criminals. If Zemin were still alive, I would shake his hand for the backbone his country has.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, September 14, 2004 at 11:52 a.m.

I won the bid for the laptop, thankfully. It's a nice unit and I was nearly outbid. I would've been outbid had my ability to refresh the browser quickly been wanting.

Some pictures of the unit, soon to be in my possession:



Specifications of the unit stand at a P4 2Ghz processor, 256megs of RAM and a 60gig hard drive. I'll sell my desktop unit for a two or three hundred dollar pittance in order to absorb some of the cost of buying the laptop. (Which really wasn't that much, thank god.)

posted by qalam on Monday, September 13, 2004 at 06:27 p.m.

As I was strolling down Shattuck some while ago, I became increasingly aware of my perceptive powers. I was able to discern, as a Californian, what parts of the state the people passing me were from.

Notably, people from the OC/LA area.

As I passed the random goth chick; punkette; pseudo-intellect; caffeine junkie and blatant Berkeley flunky, the apparent -- became ever more so.

The same boob jobs, the same tummy tucks, the same crass and metallic looking blonde hair, the same "look" kept re-appearing. The outfits, the purses, the obvious "trendy" look was screaming out at me. These people, I thought to myself: "...are from OC."

I think I owe much of my perceptive power in this regard less to my own keen abilities and more to the environment around me which makes people like these stand out so clearly.

Everyone else up here lives a life, while these peoples' lives revolve around trying to look like they have a life, and they try very hard at it.

Just some observations from around the way.

posted by qalam on Sunday, September 12, 2004 at 09:08 p.m.

I'm currently on the market for a laptop -- Sony or VPR Matrix designs have recently caught my eye.

An interesting link crossed my way today; it seems plans for the habitation of Mars are being made but are only in their initial stages.

It's only a matter of time before colonization of other planets begins to take hold, and then what will the religions of the world do? Find new "holy lands" I suppose.

posted by qalam on Sunday, September 12, 2004 at 02:32 p.m.

Just woke up.

Been a while since I've ever woken up this late, however, given it's a Saturday -- who gives a shit?

The later I wake up, the fewer conscious hours I have to contend with, the better. I think there's a certain logic in that. Today marks the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.

(Wait, or does it? Let me check the date. Why yes it does.)

And while the US is in mourning (you know the Saudis aren't) and since I don't have a TV up here, I can only guess what all the channels are pushing: feel-good TV about the big bad evildoers. (Who were CIA funded in the 80's.)

At any rate, I saw "Saved!" last night, which accurately reflected the entire white Christian youth demographic of Orange County. Mandy Moore played the twit and that one kid in all of those "Home Alone" flicks played the cripple who bangs the rebellious Jewish girl, the only one at the Christian school. (Long story.) In all, it was one of those movies I wouldn't have paid more than three dollars to go see.

posted by qalam on Saturday, September 11, 2004 at 02:29 p.m.

That imbecile and fascist Dick Cheney remarked to an Ohio audience on Tuesday, that "there's a danger the United States will be attacked again 'if we make the wrong choice' on Election Day."

Now if that isn't the most blatant and obvious example of the right-wing using terror tactics to compel a population to vote for them again, I don't know what is. Here we have Cheney Incorporated threatening that another terrorist attack would occur if people voted for a Democrat.

Suddenly, the tactics that the Republicans are using (like terror) become increasingly reflective of the same tactics used by al-Qa'ida and groups like them. Where OBL and his crew engage in terrorism, Cheney makes this "soft" terrorist threat by stating the wrong choice on election day would spell, in people's most paranoid moments, another possible 9/11.

In their desperation to win the upcoming November election, is there anything this fascistic and Islam-hating lot wouldn't do?

posted by qalam on Friday, September 10, 2004 at 10:45 a.m.

I just got a response from an associate of mine concerning my situation, he has access to some lawyers if I ever need them should the feds decide to do something to waste even more of their time.
(And mine.)

posted by qalam on Thursday, September 9, 2004 at 07:24 a.m.

Well, it looks like the feds just stopped by my Lali's house, I wouldn't be surprised if they come talk to me next.

Seeing as I have nothing to hide, there's no need for concern, however if this site ever goes offline, or if I can't be reached over a long period of time or if I don't update this site in a few days time, then it's safe to think something happened to me.

What probably gets a lot of attention is the logo at the top of the site, which I put up there to show my support for the plight of the Shi'a of South Lebanon who have faced unending aggression from both Israel and other Lebanese factions. Beyond that, there's not much else to explain. I knew this would happen, that it would just be a matter of time.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 8, 2004 at 07:47 p.m.

I took a stroll once, among the dead. I took a stroll along the lines of lives which now cross as lines of dirt, marking the dead from the dead. I took a stroll once where families grieved and where the living prayed. I took a stroll once, among the dead, beneath an enraged sun bent on sending those above, beneath. I took a stroll once, among these same dead, where tears birthed roses through the ant covered sand. I took a stroll once, where my only companions were the sounds of a low howling wind and the headstones my knees passed with each step. I took a stroll once, and spoke to the dead. One place where my gradmother lay buried, another where a friend succumbed to muscular dystrophy. Fallen lives taken by the weakness of their own flesh. I once brought water to feed the plants as their roots took hold in the decaying flesh of the dead. How beautiful their appearance, how sinister where their roots lay. They feast from the moisture of the dead and feast from the compassion of the living. The dead do not speak, so I spoke to the dead.

"I am not far from you, and I shall join you. The transient whims and passing natures of men know not how humbly their ends shall be. I do know, and when I next return to you, dearest of comrade, both of our plants shall be watered."

posted by qalam on Tuesday, September 7, 2004 at 06:20 p.m.

Today, after a lethal strike yesterday comes more bad news for Occupiers. In two seperate attacks in Baghdad, two Occupiers were wiped out when small arms fire and RPG's found their marks, respectively.



The casualty count as it stands now has reached an ominous nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine Occupiers taken out by moqawama units in Iraq.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, September 7, 2004 at 01:03 p.m.

As I push Marilyn Manson's "Great Big White World" through my speakers and ponder the upcoming week and the joyous festivities it entails, this came up on my screen as I was perusing messages online:

It's the economy. Remember all those jobs 
Bush said he was gonna create 4 years ago?
My IT job was outsourced to India and a week
after that Cheny [sic] made a speech saying it
was good for the economy. Here I am now working at
Wal-mart making 1/5th what I did before Bush
got elected and they are still trying to shove
that, "it's good for the economy" BS down our
throats when jobs get sent overseas. I am just
surprised MORE women havn't resorted to selling
themselves. I can't afford to pay my bills but I
won't sell my ass but I am not surprised more and
more girls are nowadays... 

If this doesn't scream "Kerry for '04!" I can't think of what would.

Here we have a regular and open person telling a story about what has happened to his life due to the globalization and decentralizion of market economic policies that bastard Bush and his fellow coward-compatriots have inflicted upon the American economy.

Nationalism's defenses crumble and the patriotic ethic it is founded upon, erodes; yet these are two of the very same ideological precepts that the staunchest Republican propagandists and apologists profess is the backbone of their party. Yet, their very Republican leader adopts harsh economic policies which are incredible in their measure of scope and breadth in how they dismantle these two precepts.

This is why the Republicans and those adhering to their confused and perverse pseudo-nationalistic ideology are hypocrites not only in the political sense, but by how the average man is affected by
them -- also in the moral sense.

posted by qalam on Monday, September 6, 2004 at 09:21 p.m.

Merry Labour Day to all of you, this Labour Day brings good news -- seven Occupation soldiers and two collaborators were killed when a carbomb exploded, reports on the ground say the engine of the vehicle wound up "a good distance" from the blast point.

This attack took place in Fallujah, attacks like it have been carried out across the entirety of the country.

posted by qalam on Monday, September 6, 2004 at 10:54 a.m.

Ground-breaking news in the scientific arena has emerged -- it seems man walked upright millions of years earlier than previously thought, according to an international archeological team.

This means man's bipedalism arose a full three million years prior to "Lucy." I find this to be thrilling news, it has resounding implications. It means man's ability to think in terms of an upright bipedalism allowed him to overcome predators and organize in groups much earlier than we thought; this also means that the tools produced by early man are then older by the same multi-million year factor.

From the bow and arrow to organized upright hunting parties -- all of that thanks to this discovery is revleaed to be much more ancient than had ever been thought.

posted by qalam on Sunday, September 5, 2004 at 08:27 p.m.

As though the US military was in need of more egg on its face to convince the world that it's inept without its mighty tanks, bombs and intelligence capabilities -- reports have emerged as of late indicating that al-Durri was captured in a raid in Tikrit.

This has turned out not to be the case -- forcing the US to retract its jubilant claims about the awe-inspiring capacity of its army to seek and capture wanted Iraqis.

As it turns out, the captured person looks quite a bit like al-Durri, except that his name is "al-Douri" and not "al-Durri," those arab names sure sound alike, don't they?

Blood tests are being carried out on the person in question to determine his true identity. Since there's ample doubt surrounding the fact that they might have al-Durri, there's a nigh good chance the person they are detaining was just some unlucky bastard caught up in American attempts to make it seem the deck of cards was one Jack shorter.

Poor bastard -- indeed.

I'm sure sooner or later someone in-the-know will sell out al-Durri, given the secular nature of the Ba'athist administration which makes them easily corruptable.

(Which is why Bin Laden has eluded capture, as the exact opposite is true about his cohorts.)

posted by qalam on Sunday, September 5, 2004 at 06:25 p.m.

"War and Peace" -- a story about nuclear nationalism in South Asia, is what I saw on PBS over the Summer while at my Lali's, it was directed and produced by the widely-acclaimed Anand Patwardhan, peace activist and documentary filmmaker, Anand has achieved worldwide repute.

Patwardhan has a distinctive filmic “voice” in a literal sense: in his films we often hear him speak, as narrator or thoughtful questioner. He often does his own camerawork, providing a feeling of directness, a personal eye. His films have found acclaim at festivals worldwide, but he has often been forced to fight Indian censors for the right to show them in his native country. The problems he addresses—economic inequality, environmental devastation, the challenges faced by secular and democratic movements in an era of fundamentalism and nationalism—are dangerous and crucial, and clearly as relevant here as they are on the subcontinent.

I am proud to say that Anand Patwardhan will be in Berkeley between October 21st and 24th at speaking engagements organized by the Berkeley Art Museum. I will be in attendance -- would be assassins, take note.

posted by qalam on Sunday, September 5, 2004 at 08:53 a.m.

Latest news from the Iraqi front -- CNN -- Saturday, a suicide car bomber drove his vehicle into a police station killing 50 stooges of Occupation in Latifia, nearby Latifia a US helicopter of unknown design, possibly a Blackhawk made a controlled landing when small arms fire triggered a fire in the engine.

A desert-cruising vehicle designation "stryker" secured the perimeter where the helicopter landed but was later disabled and destroyed by rocket propelled grenades fired by moqawama units stationed in the area.

Unknown casualties reported during this attack against the "stryker" and helicopter. US forces called in air support and dropped ordnance on the area.

The Resistance will not bend nor stray in its aim to eject Occupation forces from every inch of national soil. This war of Resistance will go on many years from the moment of this writing and will be the hallmark of the cowardice and stupidity of Bush and his Zionist-run administration.

posted by qalam on Saturday, September 4, 2004 at 01:47 p.m.

"I'll suck your dick for crack." -- 9/02/04

That's today's theme.

If you think I was stating an urban American cultural expression signifying modern black destitution and desperation, you're quite right.

In this case, the dick sucked in question was that of a US State Department advisor. The sucking itself occured in a Kabul hotel over a series of trysts. The faggot in question was an Afghani citizen, who did it for money.

This was, ofcourse, the worst nightmare of the Taliban, before their ousting. I have to wonder, why is there a so-called gay undergound in Afghanistan? I mean, maybe it's something in the air that turns these guys into faeries, who knows. I just thought the story was fairly humorous.

posted by qalam on Saturday, September 4, 2004 at 10:11 a.m.

Better news -- Interfax has just reported that health officials have confirmed that over 200 people have been killed by the Chechen Martyrs Battalions.

This is a full hundred count higher than my last information indicated.

May the bodies rise high enough that they finally reach the stratospheric heights of Russian aggression against Chechnya!

Mazel Tov!

posted by qalam on Friday, September 3, 2004 at 02:55 p.m.

Well, in typical fashion the undisciplined and idiotic Russians stormed the school, the Martyrs engaged the forces and detonations were heard in the city, as well as small arms fire. Detonations and arms fire continued for approximately an hour according to ITAR-ITASS.

Over one hundred bodies were confirmed dead at the site of the school, the roof also collapsed, as well. The fate of the Martyrs detachment is unknown but they were presumably martyred. Nonetheless, the Martyrs succeeded in their aim in demonstrating the depth of their willingness to strike back at the Russians on the same note and tone by which they were struck.

I view this as a successful operation which achieved all of its objectives in spite of Russian attempts.

posted by qalam on Friday, September 3, 2004 at 08:46 a.m.

Just got back from one of my political science courses.

(What else? You didn't think I was taking a sociology class whose aim was to examine the ties of agrarian Bolivian knitting communities and their post-colonial impact on the normative Latin views of gender identity, now did you? You silly little peanut.)

With atypical elan and a frumpy-fourth-grade-teacher demeanor, the professor professed knowledge on the subject of statistical sampling and causual relationships between myriad and sundry assortment of sampling techniques and their uses, naturally I was in a vegetative state as I saw dancing clowns doing gymnastics before my eyes.

There's something eerily comforting about this one professor; it's the way she carries herself, much like a nanny. I have the seething yet thus far unsubstantiated suspicion that she may be a genuinely nice person.

Ofcourse, I'm sure she's a tyrant who goes home to greet her husband whose hanging upside down in a BDSM contraption of some sort with a ball gag in his mouth whereupon she removes the gag and begins menstruating into his mouth until the early hours of morning.

Can you hear the birds chirping outside? I can.

I believe this more accurately reflects her nature. For if I were wrong, my undying cynicism and the corollary influence it bears on my views -- would be torn asunder.

Naturally, I can't have that happening.

So this ofcourse, is the correct assessment both of her personality and temperament, as well as of her off-campus lifestyle. Wait, have I sufficiently bitched and groaned (as though my sack were in a vice clamp) about the heat yet?

No?

It's fucking terribly blazing. I feel as though every moment that passes, Satan shoots beams of fire at my ass.

The other two political science courses I took today passed without me entering a vegetative state (read: meditative realm,) regrettably. This meant that I had not only stayed awake, but mentally coherent and attentive throughout.

Again, it was all a regrettable, terrible act of fate to condemn me to awareness when boring and uninspiring screeds about International Affairs or rants about the French Jacobins were being volleyed against my virgin ears.

Elsewhere in the world -- operatives of the Riyadus-Salikhin Reconnaissance and Sabotage Battalion of Chechen Martyrs (RSRSBCM) stormed and siezed a school in Eastern Russia a day or two ago.

Estimates have put the numbers of hostages anywhere between a few hundred to a thousand. Reports indicate that the notorious "black widows" detachment is also present and equipped with martyrs' belts should the school be stormed. These were the sultry eyed abaya-clad women involved with the Nord Ost Moscow Theatre siezure, none of whom could activate a detonation via martyrs' belts due to the introduction of an airborne anesthetizing agent.

The press attache to the Chechen Martyrs Battalion has stated that any attempts to storm the school "by godless forces" would result in the summary and "systematic extermination" of all hostages. Apparently, they've also sequestered the male hostages from the female and most are located within the school's gymnasium complex.

To sieze a school is to strike at the Russians with the same level of cruelty and fear which they levied against the little ones and grown ones in Chechnya who were innocent yet slain by Russian forces.

This is but a taste of their own medicine. May the Chechen Martyrs be victorious in their quest to blind the eyes of the Russian's as the Russians have blinded the eyes of Martyrs with blood, deathly emptiness and vengeance.

This time, subterfuge and stratagem will not save the Russians as it did with the Nord Ost strike. This time, they will bleed their contrition through the flesh of those slain in vengeance for their crimes.

posted by qalam on Thursday, September 2, 2004 at 05:41 p.m.

Recent (and good) news -- the Persians have reneged on the "additional protocols" of which a group of three European nations, including Germany (E3) have been pushing for.

Analysis of the situation indicated that after assessing the potential for an American invasion of Iran the leaders of Iran decided to renege upon realizing the immense difficulty the Americans have been facing in their attempts to neutralize Iraqi resistance.

Recent UN inspections have revealed ultra-enriched Uranium at one site (possibly the Natanz facility) and polonium at another site, an element used as a catalyst for nuclear chain reactions.

Zionist projections indicate that Iran will have total nuclear capability between 2007 and 2009. To that, I can only say Insh'allah. Recent testing of the Zionist "Arrow" missile-interceptor missile have been consistently failing during tests carried out in various California deserts.

In response to these tests, the Persians released a statement indicating that any attack by the Zionist entity against Persian nuclear sites would result in "immediate and dire consequences." About two days later, the Persians began modifying the Shahab-3 missile, which is capable of reaching any point in the Zionist entity however Iran indicated it would not equip the Shahab class missile with nuclear warheads.

"Shahab" means "meteor" in Farsi, its unofficial designation is "Zelzel-3" meaning "earthquake" in Farsi.

The Shahab class missile was based on the NorKor (North Korean) Taepo Dong class ballistic missile. The Shahab's range is between 1,300 and 1,500 kilometers. Recent modifications of the missile have sparked speculation that a possible Shahab class 4 missile is in the works, possibly carrying increased payload capacity, bearing greater range and accuracy.

I sincerely hope that there comes a day when Iran, a proud Shi'a nation has the capacity to defend herself from the Zionist enterprise, its zealots and its ambitions.

It would be a glorious day when Iran unvails to the world and to the Zionist enemy a fully nuclear-equipped Shahab 4 class Taepo Dong variant missile platform. When its blackened wings spread, may they cast a shadow across the whole face of Israel, may its vengeful striking core pound and make quake the very ground beneath the Zionists to a depth of 100 miles. May the Zionists take note that their ambitions and their aims of undermining Islam and crushing the Palestinians will soon not go without counter-force. May the American hawks take note of it as well in their plans of choosing whom to invade next. The attack against Iraq was met with bullets and bombs, an invasion of Iran may be met with a mushroom cloud in retaliation.

May the day come when those soaring blackened wings of grim vengeance land in Tel Aviv, may it curl its claws into the flesh of the Zionist nation and rip, and turn every inch of it into hot ash.

posted by qalam on Thursday, September 2, 2004 at 01:59 p.m.

I'm glad to say that the recent carbombing attack that took place in Kabul occured nowhere near where me mums lives and works.

I received a direct phone call from her while she was in the compound, she stated she was indoors and under armed guard during the attack. After the attack, the number of guards around the compound itself went from 10 to about 25 Kalashnikov-toting walkie-talkie-sporting Afghans itching to lighten up their AK's.

So, good news.

In other news, Kobe Bryant's problems seem to be dealt with insofar as prison time is concerned, as the charges against him were dropped. Now, I normally don't cover sports news but given the wider social scope of this case, it stood on its own merits for discussion.

Personally, I felt he would be a free man once it was revealed that the girl in question turned out to be, gasp, a slut. She had other men's semen in her underwear within either 24 or 48 hours of having slept with the basketball super-star, once news of that broke, the biggest chink in the armor of the prosecution, was split wide, and they paid the dearest cost.

In all sincerity, I view her to be something that most view her as being -- a money-hungry gold digger who took advantage of a celebrity in order to financially exploit and otherwise make profit from it.

This kind of thing happens everyday to regular men across the planet, this case being overturned and defeated serves as a blow against the rampaging feminist propaganda machine which makes men out to be inhuman exploiters and portrays women as being meek victims of vicious patriarchy, when in reality women tend to monopolize some of the most dangerous human attributes.

Sexist? That would be the standard feminist accusation. Sure, but I don't know a single woman who can't get her way, if she wants. I can't say that about men. It calls into question our ingrained notions of which gender is the fairer sex. It calls into question the very precepts which define what it means to "have power" in the social and personal sense.

However, it's getting late and I'm of no mind to begin writing a critique of the feminist argument and methodology, even though I've already begun to erect the foundations of a counter-argument.

Perhaps, I'll save that for another time.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 1, 2004 at 09:32 p.m.

Just scheduled an eye appointment after class as it's been a while; I needed a new pair of prescription sunglasses anyway, so I thought "Why the hell not?" and so it's been arranged. Seeing as I'm a student (a talib, really,) I got one hell of a discount, saving me nearly fifty dollars which would've otherwise been spent and found its way into Zionist slush funds in the Azores.

I wound up choosing a sleek Ray Ban pair which I've put on hold so no other bastards can take it should they fancy it, rather Matrixy yet conservative in style, however quite appealing to my eyes, pun intended.

The heat (Does it always seem like I bitch about the heat? I fucking do.) is once again unbearable and I imagine come October things should begin cooling down to where I can wear my jeans, combat boots and peacoat more often.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 1, 2004 at 02:47 p.m.

Thankfully, some imbecile prick responsible for pipe bombing a stem cell research company in Boston has been snatched, thanks to Boston's finest.

It's brainless idiots like these that really irritate me. I would've shot him with my .45 caliber sidearm on the spot for pulling that fucking stunt.

Twenty bucks says he's a redneck from the South "who don't believe in evil science." I hope the police deliver a sound beating and then sterilize him.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 1, 2004 at 10:39 a.m.

Alright, I surrendered. The number of comments won't appear and I can't reason with it so it stands as a fact to be dealt with henceforth.

Refresh your screens if you must to see the the new commentary, as even though the number reads zero parenthetically, everything works fine.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 1, 2004 at 08:20 a.m.

"I know, I just wasn't sure whether to reply or not, this  
 being a guestbook and all. You should have a comments 
 system. I think recent history proved you wrong on the 
 Ayatollah, so I don't have much to add. (except: hah!) I 
 do hope, however entertaining your thoughts are 
 ('Pakistani-led Taliban'?!), that you refrain from such 
 baseless allegations in the future. It really won't do you 
 much good."

Another priceless gem from a UK reader. Frankly, feel free to reply where you wish. Secondly, if you're referring to Ayatullah Sistani, nothing he's done yet has changed my opinion of him or anyone else's in the Sadr camp.

And thirdly, the Taliban was a Pakistani led, funded, coordinated group whose most highest-tier elements were products of Pakistani madrassas, not to speak of the average Pakistani elements in the forces -- the rest of them tended to be Afghan Pashtuns.

There's nothing baseless about it. These aren't "baseless" allegations, they're facts.

Also, it seems I have the comments section working but the humber of comments doesn't appear parenthetically -- still working on that.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, September 1, 2004 at 08:00 a.m.

Ode to Tuesday (and plea) --

(an ode disregarding all stylistic and musical conformity)

I love thee, so. Without you, it would be Wednesday, the saddest and loneliest day. Or, it would be Monday, a day in which the scales of the week have neither tipped in favour nor against me.

Alas, you are Tuesday, and how I love thee, so! You are the mystery day to whom I dedicate this ode. You are the mystery day which symbolizes the mystery of the week -- neither gone, nor fully arrived, you are the day of lingo. Oh Tuesday, harbinger of things unknown!

posted by qalam on Tuesday, August 31, 2004 at 07:50 p.m.

In response to the martyrdom of Skeikh Ahmed Yassin (saws) and Gaza spokseman Abdel Aziz al-Rantisi (saws,) the legitimate resistance movement Hamas has carried out dual suicide strikes against the Occupiers and Usurpers, today.

La illaha ilullah, wa shahid habibullah! Inna lillah, wa Inna elaihi Rajiyoun!

The martyrs of the Qassam al-Ezzidine Kita'ab struck at the core of the Zionist enterprise at Beersheeba when two buses were simultaneously detonated resulting in 19 Zionists being instantly neutralized and over 90 nearby Zionists struck down with injuries of sundry sort.

Long live the noble martyrs of the resistance detachments Qassam al-Ezzidine. May the Zionist dogs learn their lessons over and over, as they will continue to learn them, one bloody verse, by one bloody verse, at a time.

They will never succeed in their aim of suppressing the will of the oppressed in their desire to lash out against those who have usurped from them, killed them and humiliated them.

Long live the resistance detachments! Ya mujahideen, ya allah!

posted by qalam on Tuesday, August 31, 2004 at 11:12 a.m.

Just for the sheer amusement of it, I paid a visit to the website of Bob Jones University. (It's allegedly a university.)

Out of curiosity, I perused their "graduate" programs section and to my surprise there was quite a large list of fields, I was impressed. So, I looked a little deeper.

Bad idea.

Turns out, Bob Jones University (again, forgive the loose application of the term) has only a few fields of study, but in order to impress visitors I imagine, they've broken it off into a million fields.

You can get a Masters in Church History, which is totally valid, or a Masters in "Youth Ministries." (Would it actually take two years of study to learn how to minister to young people? I would think a three month certificate would do the job.)

There were Masters programs in "Personnel Services." (Again, does it really take a two-year degree to learn how not to fuck up an office?) There was also to my shock, a Masters program for music! I thought to myself, "How great is that?"

I was in for a disappointment.

The Masters applied to organ music. I wonder if BJU believes in non-Organ music. Hmm... it serves to ask I suppose.

I looked long and hard to see if they were brazen enough to offer Ph.D's, thankfully I didn't see any, I imagine studying the bible for 5-7 years, then writing a thesis on the bible could be done in less time than that.

What's more, Bob Jones isn't accredited, so it begs to ask why they masquerade as a "Univerisity." Why not just call the place "Bob Jones Bible College" and be done with it? I know why. Because there's a certain cachet that the term "University" confers, and they don't want to be seen as anything less, or be seen as missing the "Univerisity" bandwagon.

Unfortunately, for them anyway, they are seen as less.

I believe it's considered a "safe school," as other schools, they might imagine, have raptors and snakes slithering everywhere which creates a student health risk. Ofcourse, that has to be the reason, right? Guess again. You see, it's the corrosive effect that clear, logical thinking has on the mind, that they fear. Perhaps?

Perhaps.

I think it's an insult to the fine institution of Bob Jones U. that it's not accredited, it's an insult to the students who attend because it implies that they're of lesser intellectual mettle than, say, the people who go to UCLA. I suppose they are, as they lack the liberal arts breadth and depth accredited institutions offer. Maybe they don't care about the mind, as they deem it an enemy of faith. Perhaps?

Correction: They do have a Ph.D prgram in... theology. Imagine my utter amazement and bald faced astonishment at that discovery. Apparently, you can study the bible over a period of 5-7 years, then write a thesis on the foreign and intriguing topic, of Stellar Cartography?

Us, in the real world, will continue to wish.

Perhaps they fear that if they were accredited, that would introduce a new and dangerous force into their curricula, called "scientific and social knowledge." And by that introduction reveal the weaknesses inherent in religious thinking and philosophy.

"Good heavens Pastor! Grab the AK-47 off the rack! Tell Annie to stop milking the cow and get her shotgun! They're trying to make us smarter! We'll have none of it!"

God forbid, the issue of "Why?" would have to begin being addressed.

For example, why god made little Johnny a bastard child, a cripple and leather-freak.

And religion can't answer the "why's" only the "why must." The answer to the "why must" you ask? "God said so." That makes a short course syllabus, I imagine.

Now, I'm not saying Blow Job University is a bad school, as I'm sure they have a structurally stable parking complex, decent electrical wiring and air conditioning in all of their buildings either administrative or academic and no doubt the entire campus is replete with quite lovely gardens. Unfortunately, at BJU, 21st century thinking finds its only manifestation in the form of decent architecture. (Arguably.)

I wrote all of this to highlight the fact that despite how progressive us normal folks consider the country, you'll always have those segments of a population that still hold out dreams of the days when boats were made of wood and regret giving women the right to vote or open their mouths unless it was to orally pleasure a man, or eat.

If given half the chance, these Jerry Falwell and Benny Hinn lunatics would take over the country and we'd all be playing a game of "find the goat" on the prairie. If they could do now, to every scientist what they once did to the likes of Gallileo, they would.

posted by qalam on Monday, August 30, 2004 at 05:50 p.m.

Sarah Brightman's new album -- "Harem," absolutely ranks up there with the likes of Enya.

Very well put together, then again, given her staff and overhead it better be a solid album. I won't say how I got all the tracks, but I didn't buy the CD. (Yes, please gouge me for 20 bucks, please.) You add it up: College student + need for good music... how would you do it? The first thing that pops into your mind is probably how I did it.

I propose she change her yahudi name to something like "Zeinab Khalili" alas, we all have our dreams.

posted by qalam on Monday, August 30, 2004 at 10:15 a.m.

Classes officially begin tomorrow, the semester has dawned -- oh unending joy.

If it was anything like the last semester insofar as workload goes, I'll fare nicely; if it turns out that I have a prick for a GSI, or a series of pricks, there's going be madness. Guaranteed.

I'm not all that worried however; keeping in line with the "keep hope alive" theme and all.

posted by qalam on Sunday, August 29, 2004 at 09:29 p.m.

Looks as though Khartoum is coming closer to signing an historic peace agreement with the Southern Sudanese secessionists.

These are the same secessionists who've been crying bloody murder because the Janjaweed militia were trying to reclaim order while these other Sudanese were out trying to secede while engaging in seditious acts.

Peace is good. Peace is nice. But peace should never come before the security of a state fighting Southern secessionist forces. Let them cry bloody murder when the Janjaweed rolls, if they'd stop fighting Khartoum and stop trying to secede, then maybe they wouldn't be treated like traitors by the North and pro-government forces.

If they don't like the government, they should go down the road of political non-violence and engage in the democratic and political debate to achieve better ends. Their use of terrorism has only meant that Khartoum's hand was forced to bring about order at any cost, by releasing the Janjaweed forces.

Atleast now peace is possible, thus removing all doubt that the Khartoum government is somehow engaging in genocide, claims made by Sudanese religious fanatics hellbent on once again smearing yet another Muslim state. No, they're not Israelis. Genocidaires don't sign historic peace agreements, as Khartoum is close to doing.

posted by qalam on Sunday, August 29, 2004 at 02:57 p.m.

Recent reports indicate a carbomb rocked the capital Kabul within the last 24 hours and the Talibs have claimed it as one of theirs. Fired off an email to me mums over there to see what the status of the situation is on the ground and what NGO's are doing in response (counterbattery in the form of heavy artillery fire? Probably not.)

I'm not all that worried since bombings haven't yet been launched against fortified compounds. When that begins, in all probability the NGO's will shut down and re-locate. Though most chose the capital because of the security, if Karzai allows the capital to be compromised then the NGO's will probably round everyone up and ship them out with a courtesy note telling Karzai to invite them back when he gets his ragtag shit militia together instead of letting them all smoke all the dope he's been sitting on these past few years.

Unlike the first time the Taliban arose and took control of the nation, when their presence was a welcome counter-balance against the constant warlording of the four major paramilitaries which divvie up the dope and arms in the country; this time, with the advent of bombings against a relatively peaceful (well, kinda) capital, they will probably be met with extreme resistance by non-Pashto speaking elements if they attempt a more organized force-domination approach, like rolling in with Pakistani tanks like they did the last go around.

Just makes me wanna go back after graduation and bust off a few welcome rounds at them. Shivver me turban! Yes, and Pakistan is America's ally in this war on Islam. I'm sure the talibs being the strict lunatic fanatics they are care not for the political nuance that bombings subvert, however seeing as they wouldn't be welcome back in the nation for, say, the next two millennia, I suppose terrorism is the next best thing they can throw their Pakistani backer's capital at.

And retarded American policy makers wonder why everyone seems to hate those unpatriotic Pashtuns. Gee, could it be because Afghan Pashtuns formed the backbone of the Pakistani-led, funded and coordinated Taliban?

Sometimes I wonder if Afghan Islam wouldn't benefit from a moderate injection of Western Christian laziness, as everyone over there knows al-Qur'an like the backs of their hands and is willing to put a bullet behind every word of that holy book plus a pound of semtex.

Ofcourse, I jest. Islam wouldn't benefit from the obfuscation Christianity offers, however... maybe an injection of some Buddhism... Like Zen.

For example, I can just picture former foreign Taliban minister Wakil Muttawakil sitting in an Afghan stone garden, AK-47 and Qur'an in lap, pistols on each side, and wondering --

"Truly, what is the nature of the bullet?..."

"What is the cosmic essense of this thing which I fire at the munafiqeen, kaffireen, mushrikeen and these other evildoers whose Qur'anic appelation ends with 'een'?"

"There is no bullet. These is only force-essence."

posted by qalam on Sunday, August 29, 2004 at 09:12 a.m.

Well it turns out someone blew up two jetliners with hexogen while they were flying over a barren field in NE Russia.

I know this is rather old news in the blogosphere yet nonetheless I have to comment on it.

Gee, two Russian planes go down within minutes of each other, a statistical nigh impossibility -- and no one immediately wonders if it was intentional? I know, Tupolevs and other Russian aircraft are flying pieces of lit shit in terms of reliability, but someone had to wonder about what caused the mishap killing 89 long before FSB on the ground detected trace amounts of hexogen.

It only makes sense that the Russians are blaming the Chechens and Maskhodov and his group, but it becomes absurd to blame every motorcar that backfires on the Chechens.

Those Russians are also claiming that the Chechens have in the past used hexogen. Well gee, no shit. Any group fighting for its independence will use anything it can, that doesn't make the attack a hallmark of the Chechens. I mean, I've used, gasp, water in the past. Does that mean I have a penchant for fucking whales?

No.

Also, they claim two Chechen women were aboard those flights, one on each. So what, Chechens can't fly Aeroflot now?

And you know what else? So what if the Chechens blew up those flights? It's not like those merciless Russian whores gave a shit about any Chechen civilians they've ever killed. You know what, I hope the Chechens did it, actually. If the Chechens did it, it serves the Russians right for being the shitty lot they are.

posted by qalam on Saturday, August 28, 2004 at 03:39 p.m.

I suppose it's about time I wrote this -- Confessions of a Bad Muslim. (Quite possibly.)

I'm a lapsed Muslim with acerbic political leanings which tends to scare off lemmings (what's Hamas?) and little Jewish girls. ("OMG, it's him again, hide your candy.")

(... whom I also routinely ambush on their way to their Bat Mitzvahs, then corner and proceed to lecture on the evils of Zionism whilst quoting Said.)

My lapsed Muslim state has had its faith sublimated into the sphere of political thinking and by that has necessitated its corollary examination of authority relationships upon which political thinking is predicated -- and thus began my downward spiral. It's not something I can escape. It's one facet of who I am.

The other facets being various manifestations of my self-hating Jewish background. (You almost bought that, didn't you? You silly little peanut.)

I'm consistently and unerringly analytical while balancing on the other hand a slap happy penchant for spotting creative and almost imperceptible however vast Zionist plots. (They're there, really.)

It's an interesting life balancing rampaging paranoia and sane analytical thought. Really... it is.
(I'm lying.)

A few odd/humorous things come about as my life marches to the beat of a drummer who was born without hands, and partially blind. Here's a few of them --

1. Walking around eating pork while issuing exclamatory "As Salaamu Alaikums" to passing Muslims. As they reach out to shake my hand I often must quickly hide the pork sandwich in the other hand and then shake their hand. I'm possibly condemning them to hell by doing this, but if nobody knows then I say Allahu Akbar, let's keep moving before they realize the odor of pork I left on their hand didn't come from their Halal biryani lunch. I see irony in this. Possibly some insanity as well. Mostly irony however.

2. Engaging in weighty coversations with Muslims about Islam while secretely mentally professing my undying love for Yaweh. I see no cognitive dissonance in this.

3. Feeling guilt about the suffering of European Jewry whenever I admire the remarkable perfection of German automobiles. I then begin to rationalize and conclude that Zionists were transmissing guilt rays into my brain from transmitters surreptitiously positioned all around the UC Berkeley campus espressely designed to track and shoot guilt beams into my brain whenever I pass a well made European car.

I also believe this fits in with their plot to have me buy Toyotas throughout the rest of my life feeling secure that they've thwarted any chance of me ever buying German.

4. I've eaten pork sandwiches in Mosques before when I was younger while being dragged to religious services in a state of starvation. I think god would understand that I was hungry and since pigs were one of His creations then my eating pork in His house of worship, rather than being a sin, is actually an act of supreme respect by bringing creation closer to Creator. (Even though said creation was dead, and I was eating it. Delicious.)

5. I act pretentious around hijabis. I do so because I'm male, even though they're pious sisters, they might even be muhajabah's but I still do it. How Saudi of me. I often behave like "the good Brother" despite the fact that I used to visually undress their hijabs and imagine them wearing corsets and horns. I know I'm going to hell for that one, ya Allah...

6. Subconciously I find myself often times meandering around campus in closing concentric rings around the UC Berkeley Hillel. I believe the Zionists have perfected tractor beams, ya Allah spare me the confusion of walking into the Hillel and asking when Salat is.

7. I fear being seduced by a Jewish woman worse than I fear being covered in orange (preferably strawberry, but orange accents my skin) marmalade and left outside to be had at by the pigeons and homeless Berkeley people. Ya Allah, spare me the wrath of your Jewish womenfolk.

8. I once referred to a Jewish woman as "sister," mistakenly thinking she was someone else that was standing right next to me as I was walking. This doesn't bother me. It should bother me, now that I think about it, that thought is bothersome. Oh my god, I believe I should've been mortified. That's right.

9. I have no problem walking into a mosque before Salat when the place is empty; walking up to the podium while still wearing my shoes; adjusting the microphone and beginning to gesticulate like a Sheikh to a non-existent audience. I did this once in the IECOC mosque in Costa Mesa, California -- and wasn't caught. I believe if I were caught, I would not be here to write this. By that I mean, I would've fled in terror followed by airborne shib shibs hurled by an enraged Imam who probably thought I was a Zionist usurper. I would be in Cleveland now, huddled in a trench looking out for enraged Imams from Costa Mesa, and Zionists.

10. If I ever went to Mecca, I would be the first Muslim to install a trampoline off the wall of the Kabba and hurl myself off it, into a crowd, to be carried around seven times rather than having to walk the distance seven times around.

11. I would have no problem, while in Mecca, smoking large quantities of hashish and puffing them out in forms resembling the arabic phrase "Inshallah." I would also engage in recruiting local prostitutes and have them run with me back and forth from Mt. Ararat signifying Abraham's wife's search for water. There is something deviously blasphemous about this plot, but I would do it. I would probably wind up being caught, arrested, and beheaded on the upcoming Friday in the sermon square of the city mosque.

Something tells me that would be a very hot day.

12. I have no qualms with dating women with Hebrew tattooed on their wrists. I would spend the relationship trying to erase, wipe and pick off the Hebrew believing the tattoos were not real. I've tried this, if you ever date a woman and this is the case, the tattoos are probably real.

Those are my confessions for now, they are open to addendums into the foreseeable future, so don't be surprised if I continue.

Don't tell your mother I wrote any of this, if you know me.

posted by qalam on Friday, August 27, 2004 at 07:50 p.m.

Looks like I finally got a positive message (well, kinda) from someone I don't know:

"Your opinions freak me out. In a good way though, if thats 
 possible, you know, it makes me say - WHO is this person? 
 Would he have the guts to call an Ayatullah a coward in 
 real life? I would love to be in the argument. Otherwise, 
 your blog is pretty interesting."

It was signed "bored college loser." Well, my response is this -- it only takes one act of cowardice to ruin a lifetime of good works within the Shi'a community. I would make no accommodation to rank given the deplorable behavior he displayed.

There were, after all, riots raging in the streets and the only people there to defend the Shi'a were the noble living martyrs of al-Mahdi kita'ab. What did he do while US soldiers launched majzara after majzara against the Shi'a? He went to London. How can he answer for that?

I say to his highness -- Ya Sistani, inta Jaban min ummah Shi'a al-Iraqiyat.

posted by qalam on Friday, August 27, 2004 at 04:34 p.m.

Woke up today glad I wasn't the mad mullah of Finsbury park.

Although I'm tempted to come up with a "What would Abu Hamza do?" line of t-shirts sporting the hook-handed milky-eyed mullah in various poses of derision, admonishment and possibly exasperation.

Spent the day meandering aimlessly through the ranks of hoardes peopling the RSF on Dana looking for free tees (of which none were found despite John the "azn" roomie coming up with handfuls) while mumbling mish mumkin, imshee yallah to every passing girl who looked sharmouth'ish.

Though honestly, if I were Abu Hamza with a hook for a hand I think fingering the old axe would be out of the question, I wouldn't however put it past the half-blind mullah.

Once more, the heat is utterly oppressive and displays its malevolence in forms of unblockable rays of shininess.

posted by qalam on Friday, August 27, 2004 at 02:18 p.m.

Gotta pick up some material for classes tomorrow...

After learning the expensive lesson of not buying course texts for upper div. courses as none were used last semester, I'll probably only get the readers for classes this semester.

Caught up with an old high school friend, Grant, and it turns out things are going quite well for him I'm happy to say.

There's some kind of fucking ruckus brewing outside the room in the hall, turns out the Dorm health worker is some gay Chinese guy -- surprise. During one of the intro sessions having to do with health he asked the audience to refer to him as "the condom guy." That's sealed the gay deal, right there. "W" would fuck him on the spot. I'd be taping.

Other news, seems al-Sadr signed a "positive deal" with al-Sistani, that Ayatullah who fled like a sharmoutha when the fighting got intense. Unlike Sadr, Sistani fled under the pretense of a heart condition in order to save his own miserable life rather than rally the Shi'a and face martyrdom as Sadr faced it. It is due to that, that Sistani has lost most of his credibility within the ranks of the Shi'a and why even more now than ever, al-Sadr, a true hero of the Shi'a, has his stock on the rise.

Al-Sadr will continue to be a force to be reckoned with as the situation escalates in Iraq. Ofcourse al-Sistani is an Ayatullah and that deserves esteemed respect, however, his convenient departure from Iraq when the Shi'a needed guidance the most, is unforgivable.

That will remain a permanent mark on his image and his worth as a leader of Shi'a. I for one would never be led by a coward, Imam or Ayatullah.

posted by qalam on Thursday, August 26, 2004 at 08:39 p.m.

Calapalooza starts today and the roomies and I will roll by Memorial Glade, I hope to hook up with some local units of ahl al-Qur'an to get a feel for what Berkeley will be like in the coming semester from a political Islamic angle.

The heat is once more going to be unbearable, half of the reason I was disgorged from SoCal into NorCal was because of the unending reign of heat that incinerates SoCal every fucking minute of every fucking hour of every fucking day down in that hole.

Today, it seems, I'm back in SoCal, it almost evokes that gory scene in Kill Bill where Uma is squaring off in a dojo-styled setting in a restaurant and nearly gets her life slit from her throat by the unending horde of Kansai Yakuza enforcers. I'm Uma. I'm sure some graduate Psychology major up here of the Freudian bent wouldn't mind having me barreled over a chair to dissect that desecating heat metaphor.

At any rate, I'm getting bitter over the weather situation, if you couldn't discern that with your keen razor sharp minds.

I long for Winter. A Winter where every single hair on me will have icicles dangling from it and where the sky, unending as it is inspiring, will be forever gray. My personal saviour from the harsh judgements of desiccating punishment.

In other news: The Canadians are once more telling it how it is.

posted by qalam on Thursday, August 26, 2004 at 10:47 a.m.

Dorm room internet connectivity has finally been established, thankfully.

Hectic semester approaches -- grad. apps, maintaining GPA, coordinating efforts with a counselor so I graduate on time and have everything without incurring any "surprises" like...

"Hey, you're a senior but you for got to satisfy [x] requirement, sorry fucko!"

The bank "they're" building on Channing is growing taller and taller as the view past the building recedes further and further into oblivion. One can discern a clear San Fran. skyline but often times the smog obfuscates it.

Went to a gay bar called, what else? "Daddy's." Now, Daddy's is a fine establishment in the Castro and I went there with, and I emphasize this -- WITH MY LADY, as I am STRAIGHT, to all you asses who would presume to know the wandering proclivities of my gear. So, we went there to meet up with one of my lady's gay friends, "W," who was rigged out in leather and pins declaring himself king of this, father of that and president of something or other having to do with the "Golden Gate Guards" which is, apparently, a very large gay organization.

Strangely, I ran across a gay chap whose name I casually disregarded who nonetheless bore an uncanny resemblance to a former college English professor of mine. It very well could've been his brother as his gay visage was a startling mirror image of "R's," my former professor.

We later went out to dinner with a few of the gay folks who "W" had assembled, as gay folks like to get their eat on, as well. So we all walked our ass-slappy bunghole-happy leather-trimmed and shiny gay personages (again, I'm not gay) to the restaurant where after some pizza, shrimp and other assorted homosexual delicacies that I indulged in, (hunger cares not how nor whom you fuck) I discovered something about lesbianism.

More specifically, what some lesbians do, rather, wear that I had absolutely no conception even existed. Apparently some "bulls" like to wear attached penises whenever they go out made of probably some kind of synthetized foam or gelatinous elastic composition.

I had a few theories about this which I discussed with my lady who was of no mind to hear them given her revulsion to some of my more graphic depictions of things. It's perfectly understandable.

Firstly, how would it be attached? Would the rear portion of the unit be insterted into the vagina for stability and control or would it be strapped, say around the ass for more maneuverability and freedom of adjustment? Secondly, and more interestingly, would it at all be possible to mimic male urination?

Could said dyke actually pee out of one of these units? Perhaps, if my first theory is correct that it is partially insterted, then releasing the bladder would cause the urine to pour through the unit, theoretically.

Now there's an interesting fake dick. Ofcourse I post all of this online, as my lady wouldn't tolerate having a conversation about this. Again, it's perfectly understandable.

All of this came about, if memory serves, when the dyke in question "adjusted" herself. I believe this happened roughly about the time when I ran off to the bathroom in vintage fashion and took one of the biggest shits of my hitherto short life.

You see, the pizza didn't sit well with me.

Daddy's itself was an interesting enough place, festooned with gays of every persuasion and background, mostly white, saw one or two blacks and one or two gay asians. Given the naturally more effeminate nature of straight asian men, a gay asian man seems to be the natural corollary alternative. I know, that was horribly racist, but hey, it's true. Racial realities folks, deal.

There were also two screens mounted up on the walls rolling static images of various bar regulars engaged in various sex acts and some images of them doing rather normal things in comparison. Like naked gay happy yoga. We saw "W" more than once on those screens paddling people, one image had him with one of his "strappy boots" on another guy's ass. It was great shit folks, genuine eye-opener. A few images caused me to look away as they were more than what I expected to be seeing. But that didn't happen very often at all.

Beyond all of that, it seemed to be like a regular bar despite the fact that I've never walked into an establishment designed for the sole and express pursuit of alcohol consumption. I thought it was a great way to start the new semester, as nothing says more clearly "Prepare me for Berkeley!!!" than "GAY BAR!!!"

It was quite odd knowing that I was probably having my ass, hot sweet badonky bouncy thang that it is, eyed-over and visually-raped numerous times. That would explain the soreness my ass felt despite not once having been barreled over and rammed. Had that happened, I would've had to sick Otis on the guy's nuts or screamed "I have AIDS and I'M BLEEDING PROFUSELY OUT OF MY FUCKING ASS! YOU WAN'T SOME OF THIS, BITCH?"

posted by qalam on Wednesday, August 25, 2004 at 09:22 a.m.

Back in town once more -- it seems during my absence the number of bums has multiplied by a factor of seven.

The two roomies are thankfully more reasonable and sane than the last two idiots that I was booked in the clink with. Summer is still a factor as I spent some of the day trekking from the dorm to Warren Hall, at the most Westerly edge of campus and was nigh burned alive.

My poopy had a small however invasive procedure carried out some while ago and it's the closest it comes to being kicked in the groin that I can imagine frankly. I was given gritty details of what exactly happened and what was wrong to begin with and I can say quite affirmatively that I'm glad to be male. Two stiches. Far too many for me to handle in any context, especially that one. That's as detailed as I'm going to get or else I'd incur a lynching.

At any rate, the academic year is starting and grad. schools beckon, a dry half-year is to follow.

posted by qalam on Monday, August 23, 2004 at 03:40 p.m.

One last entry before I shut down and disassemble the rig.

It looks to be a long ride once more, this time to Richmond. Koolaid's been packed, assorted snacks and drinks have been loaded up, packing's done. All that remains is some miscellany which has to be tossed into the X.

In all, it's been interesting living with my girlfriend for as long as I have. Definitely an experience one should have, say, before getting married to someone, as it's an eye-opener. Something tells me the divorce rate in this country wouldn't be as high as it is if people lived together first for a year, then got married. An odd personal dynamic develops where one has to adapt and moderate one's own behavior in accord to not only oneself as one does normally but also to another person's behavior. This is the stage where one quickly learns how to "push buttons." At any rate, that's a sociology paper I'll have to write some other time.

And now, cue the drumroll, it's off to Berkeley for another semester of wacki zany academic culture and all the whoring and cock-sucking it entails. I just hope my GSI's this go around are more reasonable and more professional than the last lot were minus the exception of "A" who was a godsend among a sea of floating GSI oddities and weirdos.

Alot of things have to be squared away when I show up on campus -- bus issues, counselor issues, declaration issues, a quagmire of ennui meshed with bureaucratic hassle, awaits.

posted by qalam on Saturday, August 21, 2004 at 08:13 a.m.

Interim Iraqi Prime Minister Ayad Allawi today issued
 a "final call" for cleric Muqtada al-Sadr's forces to
 disarm and vacate the Imam Ali Mosque in Najaf, as sounds
 of fighting were heard outside the Shiite-
 Muslim holy site.
   -CNN

Truly, how does a sharmoutha like Allawi, who once was a personal assassin for Saddam Hussein, is still an embezzler and fraudster, have the gall to issue an ultimatum to the living martyrs of the first Imam, who are in that very Imam's masjid? How does a coward and piece of scum like Ayyad have the nerve to issue a threat to the living martyrs of al-Mahdi, whom in their clipped fingernails possess more bravery and nobility than this filthy scum offal tool of Israel and its American puppet?

No, it is the Shi'a martyrs of Hussein, Ali and of the whole Jafar'i sect that will issue the ultimatums to the stooges and whores of US Occupation -- Ayyad Allawi and his gang of cunts and rats.

What does he think he could possibly achieve by issuing a secular ultimatum threatening the earthly lives of al-shahideem? Does he not know they're Shi'a? One need only briefly inspect Shi'a religious history to know the Shi'a bend their knee to no whores or stooges. The Shi'a are the sect of the first martyrs, the first assassins, to threaten the forces of al-Mahdi with death is akin to threatening a child with candy. They do not fear it, they desire it.

The forces of al-Mahdi, who've taken city after city upon city after city, are attracted to the deaths of their enemies even when it may bring them closer to theirs. They are martyrs. You do not threaten martyrs. Has he no education? Has Allawi no sense of larger global realities? Does he require his severed head to be an ornamental piece sitting on the desk of Sadr to understand the message of the Shi'a?

posted by qalam on Thursday, August 19, 2004 at 11:20 a.m.

A critical factor in recent political activity, Moqtada al-Sadr, has ordered his army to leave the Imam Ali' shrine and "disband" the Mahdi forces.

This is both bad news, and good news.

Crucially, the Imam Ali' shrine won't be used by the forces to launch attacks against the Crusaders and therefore won't be "liberated," ergo no bomb and rocket attacks will be levelled against it.

Furthermore, this will allow the Mahdi forces, which I believe will not be disbanded, to regroup, re-arm and re-position their might to both attack and infiltrate Crusader dominated areas. This would take form in infiltrating law enforcement and para-military pro-council organizations.

This will not, however, be the end of either Moqtada al-Sadr or his noble resistance detachments which have fought the usurpers whatever their guise, be it Crusader or Iraqi.

Rather, I believe this missive on the part of al-Sadr to be a political gesture, and not a guideline for internal military disarmament. Al-Sadr has not become a "factor" by being either a fool or a stooge to any external forces who've given their muwalaat to the Crusaders.

Long live the Shi'a armies, ya shi'at al-Ali'!

posted by qalam on Wednesday, August 18, 2004 at 03:26 p.m.

The tiny English village of Boscastle has just been smitten down by a flood which took cars and trees with it as it swept over the area. I believe this is God acting against the paedophilia of the Anglican church.

..."What? They're fucking children? Why, why, I shall smote... Boscastle!!!"

The footage was stunning, piles of used condoms floated past the camera as it was panning, loaded undoubtably with priestly splooge, as the cars were tossed asunder in the water some trunks broke open and revealed children's bodies -- must be the new Catholic priest neighbors.

It's when little villages like Boscastle get wiped off the map, literally, that people have to believe in God. Imagine if this were the middle ages, with no weather forecasting or satellites, blimey. Why people would think God had smitten their sinning hides because little Bobby fell down a well.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, August 17, 2004 at 09:14 a.m.

Updated the site once more, adding a new guestbook and forum area for the assortment of bored college losers, military intelligence people and others to post rants or begin descants as to why I'm a foul soul. All the bugs are hammered out, ill-bred masses.

posted by qalam on Monday, August 16, 2004 at 08:16 p.m.

The kook religious right-wing of this country is once more caught lying.

After Bush declared "major hostilities" over months upon months ago -- roadside bombs, insurgent rockets and small arms fire from ultra-agile guerrilla units continue to claim the flesh of Occupation soldiers. The coffins are being filled with America's war dead.

An unecessary war was waged based on non-existent WMD's, non-existent threats reported by the poodle Blair in Europe. It was widely reported by Bush's slick British bitch, Tony Blair, that Iraq could strike the US in 45 minutes if it so chose to do so. As it turns out, Iraq lacks both the warheads and the means of delivery to execute such a strike.

More recently, Bush admits in a speech that even if he knew Iraq had no WMD's, he still would have invaded. Well, he knew then, and he invaded anyway, so the point is moot.

I digress.

Recently, talk of a troop re-deployment has been floating about, and despite Bush believing his war on Islam is succeeding, much to his dismay, Crusader forces are picked off by snipers every day. Don't expect Faux News to show you the bullets barrelling out of the Resistance units' dragunov sniping rifles smashing into Crusader soldiers as they look for roadside bombs. It happens every day.

Obviously, this troop re-deployment wouldn't be necessary if Crusader soldiers' morale and ranks weren't dwindling. In reality, it is dwindling. Soldiers are committing suicide at unbelievably high rates as well, which I think is great, since that means one less prick for the resistance to pick off, and one more innocent Iraqi child's life saved.

Crusader forces currently in Europe and in the Asias are to be re-deployed to Iraq to replace the currently demoralized and drained Crusaders currently waging holy war against the sovereign Muslim state of Iraq.

Essentially, what this means is something that bodes poorly for the Americans. These fresh young Crusaders, inexperienced with how Iraqi militants engage in battle, their tactics, and methodologies, will in the first few months incur heavy losses due to their naivete and diet of German beer and Asian sahki and lackadaisical attitudes developed by being lazy and growing arrogant in Europe.

After the first few months, things will be as they are now, and soldiers will continue to lose whole cities to groups bearing the name "moqawemah el-iraqiyat," "hizballah" and "jaish-e-muhammad" as they are now. As they have lost Mosul, Ramadi, Sadr City, Basra, Najaf, Nasiriyah... and they're losing one city for each drop of martyrs' blood spilled.

So clearly, things are not going well for the Americans given this talk of re-deploying troops, it sends the implicit message that the troops on the ground in Iraq aren't having the picnic they thought they'd be having and need to be replaced. I'm all for the replacement, it should give resistance snipers and bombers an easier few months ahead when dealing with the less experienced formerly European and Asian based Crusaders.

posted by qalam on Monday, August 16, 2004 at 09:22 a.m.

I couldn't have left my "family" quicker than I did. The kabob was barely done before it was packaged into a plastic container whereupon I was spirited off by my lady, who in her infinite wisdom thought it would be a good idea to park half a mile further down the street than necessary.

As I power walked my ass down said street, thoughts of the Olympic track teams floated around my mind as I wondered if I could qualify among their ranks given the lengths I was walking.

Life returns to a relative normalcy as I write this, I say this due to the fact that my lady just loosed an ass-fiend near my face a few minutes ago while we were wrestling over a green sour ball. I thought it would be a good idea to plug her ass with my index finger so as to countervail the emission that was by this time barreling down and out of her anus with tremendous force. I failed. The odor hit me like an RPG to the face.

Yes, things are getting back to normal. I just noticed a hit from centcom.mil, one can say that things are truly getting back to normal now.

posted by qalam on Sunday, August 15, 2004 at 05:38 p.m.

Here we are at last, the first day of the Olympics is underway.

One can only hope for a repeat of Munich '72, with that in mind I lift a glass to Black September. There's no national humiliation quite like national hummiliation while at the Olympics. One can only hope that this go around something terrible happens to the Zionist National Occupation Team, once more. Now, that's not asking too much, now is it? I don't think so.

Oh, Black September, where art thou?

Things were going so well until the German anti-terrorist units moved in, even with that however, Black September managed to slay a slew of Occupation atheletes while sending a dramatic political message to the world.

"Not even during times of festivity, will those who suffer allow those responsible, to forget their crimes."

All of that being said, today is "beach day" for the guests, and I with my stultifyingly off-putting charm will be in attendance. California beaches are quite a joy for these people to visit seeing as they hail from the frigid wasteland of the East coast.

Other news, as my readers may know, intense fighting in Najaf has only further intensified as Crusader forces amass at the gates of the Imam Ali' cemetery. They have not, however, entered the mosque. They can if they wish, ofcourse, with their big bad American superman firepower, they can do as they please, really. They should however remember that any action which would entail acting against the mosque would only mean further inflaming the Iraqi Shi'a community, not to mention angering global Shi'ism.

That's not a good idea.

Ultimately, it may very well result in a burgeoning secessionist fervor. Iran would like nothing better, and frankly, I wouldn't mind it all that much either.

Recent news from the region indicates that with resignation of the mayor/governor of Najaf, some Mouwafiq chap, talks have broken down with the militants of Moqtada al-Sadr, the Mehdi Army.

Some other Iraqi bastard (read: prominent political leader) whose name eludes me actually gave permission to the Crusaders to enter the mosque to engage in battle with the living martyrs, that jahili whore. I wouldn't mind an IED going off under his car with him in it.

Alright, I'd better stop before I get riled up...

posted by qalam on Saturday, August 14, 2004 at 09:17 a.m.

Day 2. I write this post sitting in my cousin's room via his brand new computer. I slept on the couch last night, surrounded by Afghan pillows, one in between my legs.

LAX is one of those places that seemingly has all the qualities of glass being smashed while retaining a sense of smooth symmetrical flow. Don't ask me how, but it does. The place works. I didn't notice much security, either, which was rather sad.

One the way back from picking up the relatives, my uncle brimming with pride in his vaunted ability to not only drive, but drive well, suffered a groin-blow, metaphorically anyway. He fucked up. Rather than getting us on the 605 freeway, he took as back into downtown LA, and from there, onto the 5 North. Ofcourse, the air-conditioning in my other cousin's SUV didn't work. Air was blowing, sure, but just that. Air. Not cold air, not even marginally deceptive fresh air. But rank, dank, stank air from outside.

Later on, the other package has to be picked up (read: relative) from, where again? That's right, the same festering hellhole of smog, heat and traffic jams.

What's worse, I forgot something of critical importance at my lady's house and sooner or later I have to drive by there, but YOU SEE?? I can't, as I left my keys there. GOD FUCKING DAMNIT. Alright, more later on.

posted by qalam on Thursday, August 12, 2004 at 01:22 p.m.

Things have certainly changed since the last time I was here.

I sit with my back against an Afghan pillow, nestled behind the anatomical point where the middle of my neck merges into my upper back. It's one of those traditional Afghan pillows that's covered with embroidery and small trinket-like circular mirrors.

I suppose you really have to see it to know what it looks like, unless you're Afghan. If you're Afghan, then you know what manner of grotesquely tawdry sofa accessory I speak. Then, then you know what it means to see a kaleidoscopically mesemerizingly mind-numbing house of mirrors horror show of culturally unique home accents.

To be blunt, it isn't merely ugly, it's an assault on the senses -- the visual and the tactile. It's both a peril to touch, and a horror to see. It's as though Satan spat upon the couch his warmest spit and bellowed to his airborne saliva, "Offal! Take whatever shape that most menacingly terrorizes the human soul!" Guess what? Afghan pillows take that shape.

Afghan pillows symbolize the next two to three days that will be spent in a house I spent about four or five years of my life in. My uncle is arriving with his family from the East coast and my mother is to show up from halfway across the globe.

I will keep my loyal readers updated on the myriad assortment of misery and ironically peace-inducing acts of murderous rage that, surely, will take place in the upcoming days. A mix of insults, people lacking a generous amount of intelligence, and an overall sense of tension and impatience hanging in the air has the makings of genocide.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, August 11, 2004 at 10:25 p.m.

It is a patent falsehood to claim as I did in the post below that my lady downloads pornography at work to sate her undying lust. Due to no request, coercion, threat or appeal made to me, by her, do I make this apology. I make it but out of the kindness of my own two ventricles and their infinite ever-forgiving depths. Goddamnit.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, August 10, 2004 at 11:42 a.m.

Looks like my lady's old flat, "Casa de Crazy" is on the verge of imminent collapse. Ofcourse, considering the condition it's in, one might easily think a nut or a bolt might come loose causing the stairs to give or the roof to succumb to gravity, or quite possibly the foundation to crack wide open and suck the sound, upstanding and moral establishment into an infernal abyss.

But naturally, I'm not referring to the hardware failing.

Of those that shall remain nameless but know full well who they are, I only feel sorry for two of the lot who are moving back to Denver, it seems.

I thought it all quite amusing to see the morality hit the curb and the behavior to get truly bizarre once my lady left the joint, I made a passing remark just the other day to her, that she was the crux of what kept the place together, and as long as my lady remained there to be the object of their moral showboating, friendly derision and baldface hypocrisy, that that itself would bind them together as it did for as long as it did, and now that their convenient whipping girl is gone, viola. It came apart like an American-made motorcar.

Not a single one of them would agree with this analysis, but, ofcourse, it is the correct analysis.

That was, really, the only variable that changed which precipitated the undoing of the noble sanctuary of the fellowship of the ring.

Interestingly, as I write this my lady just messaged me informing that she had 67 instances of "spyware" on her work computer. Truly, one must in this day and age banish women to the bedroom and beat them if one cannot in anyway have them temper their internet gay porn habits.

She would probably deny this, but it is, once more, ofcourse, the correct analysis.

Naturally, I don't take it personally when my lady finds herself in a bind, touching herself and must, since I'm not there, quench her carnal appetite on gay porn rather than on the sweet tender flesh of her love. I'm not sorry for that. Surely, it is a matter of necessity she do this. I understand, wholeheartedly. I too, am guilty of such things. Often, I masturbate to her gay friend Warren, and that never seems to bother her. Perhaps she finds it amusing, or thinks it some manner of jest. Unlike her fantasies, mine, sadly, end with me stretching Warren's fleshy ass hole wider and wider, and right before climax, I pass out unceremoniously and fall knocking my head against the coffee table inducing my brain hemorrhaging and forthcoming demise. I mean, it was going so well... again, what causes it? Who knows?

The Shadow knows. [cue Shadow theme song, shabbos boy]

This morning the good lady and I visited the hospital to have her violated and scanned for disease or other bodily manisfestations of ailments caused by immorality and ungodliness. As we all know, when one turns one's back to god, he will smote your right ovary down.

I thought I had a good idea of what the instrument of probing in question would look like. As it turns out, I was right, I did have a good idea of what it would look like. It was long, electrical, plastic, covered in lubricant and, believe it or not, a sterile condom was unrolled down its shaft by, now that I clearly remember, a nurse who had quite nimble and sultry fingers. The condom was unrolled and applied, ofcourse, incase the circuit climaxed and were to squirt a beam of electrons into the far reaches of my lady's uterus, she would be safe.

The ultrasound was an unexpected blessing, that too contained elements of what causes my blatant sexual fantasizing and subsequent lapses of consciousness. Prior to the scan actually beginning, my lady's mid-belly was exposed (a sumptuous enough treat as it is, mind you) and then liberally covered with a warm jelly substance which apparently serves to amplify ultra-sound waves through skin (oh, how lickable it was) and thereby enable more accurate and detailed scanning.

One can imagine my state at this point. My mind was floating on an ocean of dirty thoughts, mostly thoughts involving jelly and sex. Often wildly different thoughts emerged as well. Rather than thoughts of jelly and sex, there would be thoughts of sex and jelly. You see how my lady's sex appeal induces my insanity. It's not fair, goddamnit. It just isn't.

At any rate, what else isn't fair is the fact that I wasn't exposed and covered with jelly.

Alright, I'm done ranting for now. If you enjoyed reading this, you're a horribly guilty, sexually-perverted and maladjusted character, ungodly in every respect, and I want to have no business knowing you, you sick, sick human being.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, August 10, 2004 at 10:25 a.m.

Flashed up the site a bit, as you can see. It's been operational for over two years, it was about time I got with the times.

Notably, it seems Ahmed Chalabi ("Alibi Chalabi") and his son were recently taken down on counterfeiting or counterfeiting-related charges by the Iraqis. No surprise there. As usual, the Pentagaon has egg dripping off it's wrinkled old white face for having befriended and taken such a fraudster, embezzler, would-be spy and thief under its wing.

Doesn't the Pentagon have a strange and foreign process called, gasp, "vetting" when it deals with people it intends to bring in the fold?

In Florida, it seems a gang of four blacks killed a houseful of people in an organized manner, by beating them all to death with bats. The dog wasn't spared either. What prompted such a brutal assault against the residence? An XBOX game console that was in dispute and some clothing.

I hope it was worth cripwalking to the clink over.

They were mostly teens and most of them had prior criminal records that were assault-related. I love how the media drools over stories like these in shock. In a society where media-boosted entertainment and corporately-oriented mass consumption saturates the thinking of even those who don't watch tv, it's pure irony that this all happened over the culmination of corporate-marketing genius and icon of consumption -- an XBOX gaming console.

posted by qalam on Monday, August 9, 2004 at 10:12 a.m.

I just woke up about an hour ago and the room seems strangely reminiscent of a child's play area, minus the loaded jet black 1911 laying on the floor -- there are two small stuffed animals (bears,) a towel in the middle of the floor laying flat in an oddly surrealistic way, wait, two towels now that I look, a remote control and various dark markings on the carpet. I added "surrealistic" as the towel is arranged in such a perfect way it compels one to think that something is hidden under it, like a blackhole.

I have no idea why I wanted to describe the floor of the room, I just felt that I had to as I noticed all these things while walking around naked wishing for a pink robe.

The Manchurian Candidate was interesting. The lady and I saw it last evening. I was glad to see that Meryl Streep, that old-ironsided lefty, was making a comeback into the arena of film-making. I've only ever seen her do Greenpeace commercials late night on public tv or deliver messages on PBS to the theme of "Read to your kids more, goddamnit."

The premise of the Candidate was believeable enough, especially in this day and age. The world's first privately owned and operated vice-president is about to be unfurled to the masses -- yet something goes horribly wrong. (Ofcourse.) Denzel plays the old army war buddy whom, to everyone involved, seems to be losing his mind. Then there's the uber-mega-super corporation of Manchurian Global which carries the banner of untrusted global corporate government which the left always enjoys using as a whipping boy for political ills. (It's true.)

The drama continues: innuendos are abundant -- metal implants are chewed out of people's asses; the grocery bagger lady turns out to be part of an FBI shadow unit surveilling Denzel; the army loans a platoon of soldiers for an odd corporately funded and operated political brainwashing experiment. Yes, nothing at all to calm the paranoia of folks like me, one bit.

It was a fair political thriller, about as well-made as could be expected; it ends with the Hillary Clinton impersonation in the form of Meryl Streep and the Manchurian Candidate Himself both being assassintated by Denzel in what seemed to be, among the flurry of nods and eye-contacts being made -- a mercy killing. A black, silenced .308 sniper rifle seemed to do the trick.

In today's political world such things aren't beyond the realm of possibility, substitute the mind-control neuro-circuitry in the movie for extended pshychological re-enforcement sessions and drug cocktails -- and there you have it. You could, if you had the wherewithal of a government and the elite skills of premier mercenary scientists on tap, convince a man that his mother is a turnip, that a black silenced .308 sniper rifle is candy and pulling the trigger against a political figure in accordance to a plot of such vast nature of scope, intrigue and backroom dealing so as to make Bush's relations with corporate America seem unsophisticated and amateur, is the most natural thing in the world to do.

And that was exactly what was done. At the end, Manchurian Global was done in because the assassination was bungled. (Streep took the bullet too, remember?)

That's the only part of the movie where it loses its connection to reality. In reality, such a plot would not have failed. The bullet would have hit who it was supposed have to hit, and only that person; and Denzel rather than being caught by a sharp-eyed FBI grocery bagger Agent would've done what he had been meaning to do, which was to pull out the pistol and liquidate himself.

All in all, a good show. It also implied that journalists were buried hairline-deep in their own stinking and rotting ineptitude for not having once caught on to what was going on as throughout the movie not once was a journalist shown. In that respect, the movie's tenuous grasp on reality became chain-linked.

The new semester is coming at me far too quickly. It's already August, I can't wrap my brain around that. No amount of movie-watching or Arizona Iced Tea-drinking will expunge that reality from my awareness. It looks increasingly likely that next semester I'll have to find an apartment, as well. I've already registered for my standard four classes, all poli. sci., and one historyAC course to fulfill some nonsense UC requirement. I haven't written my graduate admissions thesis yet as it's primarily contingent upon whether or not I go to Afgahnistan after I graduate and stay there for a year or less. I think my case for candidacy would be eminently enhanced if I also sent in along with my admissions material a nice think spiral book of pictures, faces and bio's of the people I would have helped via relief work.

My motives ofcourse aren't purely selfish, I'd also like to visit Afghanistan because of the [insert culturally-aware, sterile yet concerned line here] of Afghanistan.

At any rate, it's off to the gym...

posted by qalam on Sunday, August 8, 2004 at 10:03 a.m.

It seems the campaign war unfolding on the telley these days is taking on a more creative hue.

Music artists like Bruce Springstein, Chicks with Dicks and other well known anti-Bush bands and performers have taken to touring around the country to musically shame and defame our inbred imbecile leader. I'm all for it. Ofocurse the Republicans will have a response to this, and their response is an ugly assortment of redneck "musicians" and country singers among other Southerners who think they founded the country.

In Albany, NY, a masjid was raided in Bush's War on Islam and two people were arrested including the founder of the mosque and they're being charged with terrorism or some related crap. The administration is desperate, apparently. They used the good old trick of entrapment to sell some goods to some folks and then arrested them when they said "Wait, huh?" I don't blame the fascist FBI, those incompetent losers and faggots managed to arrest two Muslims, congratulations. Perhaps now they know that Sikhs aren't Muslims so the weekend warrior federal agents that go around shooting at Sikhs will restrain themselves. Who knows, maybe not.

Ran into a friend on a congested local freeway yesterday. I lowered my window and he spotted me just about the same time I spotted him, naturally I began bellowing obscenities at him and he responded with a smile and a "What's your phone number?" and a few minutes later we began chatting on our mobiles. Fortunately, my lady was on the phone with someone whom I didn't mind hearing me curse as she sits in the shallow end of the gene pool in every respect and will thankfully shortly be leaving California. It's strange who you run across these days...

The war in Iraq continues because as we all know, Saddam was responsible for flying those planes into those buildings. I'm just glad the rednecks are dying over there instead of fucking their sisters at home. I'm sure mom's vaj could use a rest now that sonny is in Iraq getting shot at or otherwise being made unwelcome.

posted by qalam on Thursday, August 5, 2004 at 01:48 p.m.

America's finest, Lyddie England is back in the news. Bred on a diet of beer and marshmallows her entire life, this stunningly refined woman was probably had at by her brothers and father in turns once she hit puberty while in one of her drunken stupors in the familiy's one bed trailor. Sadistic behavior from a woman of her stock is perfectly predictable nonetheless. What manner of man would impregnate her? The current occupier of the White House might fit the bill.

Kerry and Bush are in Davenport at the moment mere blocks away from each other, these two avowed opponents. Well, maybe not so avowed, as one is a flip-flopper and the other a redneck whose lexicon of words probably doesn't exceed five-hundred. Kerry in one of his late night flip-flop sessions probably repeatedly tears down and puts back up a poster of Bush.

Ofcourse the walking joke we have for a president is no better. Perhaps he is not as stupid as he seems, perhaps he's dyslexic and suffers from tantrum fits. Maybe we can find the UFO he landed in and prove once and for all that his seemingly limitless stupidity isn't even terrestrial, that would renew my faith in humanity.

As I push Ziad Rabbani out of the speakers I wonder if I should clean my pistol. I mean, I put 190 rounds through it, it can't need a cleaning NOW, can it? I didn't shoot the remaining ten since I always keep my pistol loaded with ten, because a brother never knows who approaches his door.

Now, I'm not parano... wait, did you just hear that?

posted by qalam on Wednesday, August 4, 2004 at 01:52 p.m.

The shoot went absolutely great. One never knows the level of power and sheer force that rages out of the barrel of a 1911 .45 until one goes shooting. The word "blast" falls miserably short when trying to describe exactly what happens when one pulls the trigger of a 1911.

Out of fear of having re-assembled the weapon incorrectly, I naturally let Bryan fire the first round out of it under the guise of having him pop the gun's cherry. Ofcourse, I wanted him to fire the honorary first shot but as I just said, amusingly, it wasn't my only reason for handing him the pistol. (How terribly wicked of me, I know.) It fired flawlessly and only jammed once or twice when feeding Winchester 230g hollowpoints but fed the remaining 43 or 44 holowpoints just fine. (Which is to be expected considering the mil. spec. .45 was never designed to feed "exotic" rounds, only 230g service ball ammo, none of which jammed, either.)

When I first squeezed the trigger at the paper target (a buck a pop by the way, so we got three and tore them up.) I was considering what just might happen, I wasn't afraid of having the gun malfunction, rather, I was intensely concerned about just what I would feel as I pulled that trigger. (It broke like a glass rod, I gleefully might add.)

I pulled the trigger.

As I looked through the sights leveling them on plane with the center of the target, keeping my wrist and elbow relaxed, a white hot and somewhat red flash consumed the front of the weapon and it simultaneously jerked up somewhat and pushed back. It roared. It didn't pop like a .22 or .9mm, it didn't scream, it didn't growl -- it sounded like someone just shot a big motherfucking gun off. You know when someone fires a big fucking gun, whether it's a .45ACP, .357 or .44 magnum, you know, because it sounds like thunder. I expected and therefore wasn't startled by the biophysical effect I just experienced, but was affected by the blast -- its sound, wrist-snapping force, body-shaking vibration and intense heat. It reverberated through my whole body.

For the first time in my life, I think I would feel sorrow if I ever had to actually discharge my pistol at someone after having experienced first-hand the level force that comes out of the business end of it. Believe me, it's not a joy to ride on the handling end, either, but better that than the business end if I had to pick one side of a 1911 on which to stand.

After I had adjusted (if one actually can adjust, really) to the weapon's discharge, I began to get comfortable. Since the range owner was a dandy nice guy and Bryan and I were the only ones really there, the "one shot at a time with two hands" rule was blithely ignored, and so I thought to my onesies...

"Oi, how fast could I dump a ten round clip of .45ACP into a target?"

"... fucking fast."

I dumped a clip, one handed in about, hmm, four or five seconds. Of the ten rounds, Bryan said the last few didn't even strike within the "1-6" range on the target and the rest hit on target. Four, happily, struck within the black or very near, three struck either on the edge of the red or on the red somewhere and the last three were splayed out at various place on the sheet.

I felt good. The stress was gone, the holes made me happy. I thought to myself -- "Imagine, it only takes four or five seconds to riddle someone with ten rounds, if they were in close-range." It feels good knowing that most gun battles statistically take place at or within 15 feet, not that I plan on being in a rolling gun battle anytime soon mind you, then again, I'm Afghan -- it's genetic. At fifteen feet, I could knock the cigarette out of someone's mouth with no risk to them, well, unless I wanted to blow their head off and used the old "Trust me it's just a cigarette" ruse. Although if someone let me do that, I'd shoot them square in the side of the head just for being stupid. I guess that would be a fairly convincing message to convey to someone in a "No Smoking" area of a public place.

I advocate a "Smoke here and you just might get a hollowpoint in your fleshy ripe, gaping wide ass." sign-campaign for public spaces in cities that have a problem with ordnance compliance on the part of the local resident population.

That'd be great, think of it! Cops walking around or riding bikes just casually shooting at people with coffin nails limply hanging in their mouths. I mean, god forbid they miss and say blow someone's head off. Hey, they could've poisoned my lungs goddamnit, I say it's unfortunate but not unacceptable. If they implemented that in the city of Berkeley, there wouldn't be a professor alive by the end of the day. Those failed Marxists who decided to become failed academics light up all the time, I for one wouldn't mind seeing all the cops in Oakland drive up and just induce compliance with their firearms on campus. Hey, as I said, my lungs weren't made to inhale their crap.

Actually, I think Irvine should mandate a sign-campaign-cum-offical decree where driving with a cellphone means you've forfeited your claim to sentience and therefore should the nearest cop sight you he can legally follow you, pull you over, look you squarely in the face, unholster his sidearm and blow you away -- all, ofcourse at his own or her own ginger leiseurly pace.

Wait, screw the pretense, I'm all for people who violate traffic laws to be shot in the face squarely but considering that I've violated a few myself in my day I might want to reconsider the policy. A revised "Shoot me unless I look like the founder of Qalam al-Yaqeen." policy seems more feasible and sane.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, August 3, 2004 at 10:16 a.m.

Some pics below of newly acquired (and quite dandy) ammunition amounting to 200 rounds including the 50 standard rounds I got when I received my pistol.

And a Public Service Announcement to all the bastards who read this site, who hate mail me or generally have it in for me --

Pine or oak?

Ymm, hollowpoints, let's see... 200 rounds, fifty of which are of the hollowpoint persuasion, and a big, black, 1911 .45. Got-dayum, yes, I believe we can call the clinician back in to deem me certifiably dangerous. ::evil grin of doom::

posted by qalam on Monday, August 2, 2004 at 12:14 p.m.

Well, it's the start of a new month and it looks to be hectic. I'm ever so slightly concerned about writing my thesis to myriad MA/Ph.D programs domestically and overseas as I haven't yet gotten started. The damn prompts are so vague and the page-number limitations they've imposed rarely exceeds one page.

How can I show my magic in a single page, or a page and a half?

Impossible.

So, that's but one issue plaguing my thinking today. Apart from that, my folks are scheduled to come to town in a few days and god knows what awaits me when they show up. I have to pick my mother up from LAX and the ride back is going to filled with nothing but noise and inanity.

Took my GRE and did as well as could be expected, well enough to qualify me for candidacy to one very well known American (East coast) Ph.D program. (political science)

Elsewhere on other fronts, I have to move back up to my dorm at Berkeley but I'll be taking a lot less clothing than before as I overstocked a bit the last time around. I'm looking forward to a new semester, now that I have a feel of what to expect and what is required of me.

Frankly, I'm disappointed with Berkeley. Of all the GSI's I had, only one seemed sane and grounded. Maybe it's the big-school environment, I know Amherst wouldn't have been anything like this.

posted by qalam on Sunday, August 1, 2004 at 09:52 a.m.

Things that go bang in the night --



Changed the links above to something I find to be a pressing issue. The hijacking of the country by religious fundies in the form of Republicans. The link above takes one to the theocracywatch homepeage where one can read oodles and volumes of what, exactly, the right wing of the US has done, is doing and intends to do to the county in the future.

In Iraq, today is the bloodiest day since the stooge council usurped power. North of Baghdad in the city of Baqouba, a resistance operative targetted the police recruiting center killing 90 or 100 some odd persons via suicide strike. Too bad, so sad. If the US didn't invade they might still be alive. Instead, we have a simmering and explosive situation on the ground; a situation of instability that is unlikely to ever recede, atleast not in the next few years.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, July 28, 2004 at 10:54 a.m.

Odd stories are emerging as of late.

Bush fell flat on his back while of all things, mountain biking. He doesn't strike me as the sort who does that shit. I'm beginning to wonder if he can do anything safely by himself. (like I'm one to talk, actually) He can't eat a pretzel without nearly dying, can't ride a bike without damn nearly killing himself. Something tells me all he's really good for is lying to the American people and being an angry Christian. I don't think deeply religious people are inherently angry people, like the president seems to be. I think those kinds of people would be more like Ronald Reagan, without the liberal sprinkling of loser and stupid. I think genuinely religious people are people who are at peace with themselves. I don't think Bush is one of those folks, he doesn't seem to be. He seems to be defined by his faith rather than using his faith as a means to bring him closer to his God or to bring him peace.

That's the sure mark of a loser and weak person. Any person who is defined by what they do or believe, is nothing without those things. And those things can be easily stripped away; what is one then? A mass of amorphuous goo. A glistening blob of confusion and sheep-headed personal views which when the political wind blows they like a ship open their sails and are cast to wherever. It's really sad to see people like that, but they compose the vast majority of the American population.

Bush seems to use his religion as a mask to cover his natural anger and aggression. He simply doesn't seem like he's a nice guy. Maybe he's angry over the fact that whenever he tilts his head back all he hears are marbles rolling around and theme songs to cartoon shows. Perhaps Bush should embrace a new age religion and go to sleep with a small twig in his ass to bring him some peace. I don't know.

Other news, some dentist apparently injected his own semen into the mouths of five or six sedated female patients. Gee, was he too lazy to crank it off manually while they were under anesthesia? Did he save it up in syringes and then plot against whose mouths he'd like to squirt it in? I think the whole story is actually funny. It's one of those things that surely must be a crime somewhere, where no one really gets hurts (unless he had STDs and one of them had an open sore or wound in their mouth) and all the victims are disgusted. I had a good laugh when I heard that story. Talk about a crime against trust.

On the political front, I wonder how Kerry feels about being supported by his party not for who he is or what he stands for but solely because people want to oust Bush. He must feel like crap about that. Being a loser generally and now being a tool to remove a dumbass leader can't feel good. C'est la vie, as long as Bush and his illegitimate fascist junta are ousted, I'm happy.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, July 27, 2004 at 11:58 a.m.

Things I'd rather do than see "Catwoman" --

1. chew on the primer of a live bullet
2. fall into a freshly dug grave and die there
3. push a car through my rectum
4. support Nader
5. bang one of the Bush daughters and catch
   the world's first hybridized HIV/Herpes virus

Things I'd rather do than see "I, Robot" --

1. defenestrate myself
2. fall into the ape pit at the zoo
3  put a golf ball in my ass to see how wide I can stretch 
   it

posted by qalam on Monday, July 26, 2004 at 03:24 p.m.

The days are grinding by excruciatingly slowly and I think I've developed the keen ability to close my eyes and sense how many air molecules my breath is vibrating. I sit watching CNN as news of the political conventions filters into my brain and is apathetically erased. I'm left to stay online and at random times go out to pick up things I don't even need -- boredom compels one spend money.

The days pass aimlessly; the nights serve only as pauses between the daylight boring into my eyes and the conflated static of household noises, from appliances humming to the occasional "gush" from the central AC kicking in.

For example, today I was supposed to go get toilet paper, and wound up getting a pair of jeans along with it and some "Basics" cotton shorts to freeball around the house in.

If we use the number of items we buy unecessarily along with the item(s) that we purchase that one came to buy, for whatever essential purpose, we can create a means of measuring the amount of boredom in our lives.

I therefore propose to the scientific community to create a "bordometer."

Yes, indeed the light of day and the blackness of night mesh into one another and in that fusion form a hue of oneiric existential grey in which I find myself passing through in various states of unaltered and altered awareness.

posted by qalam on Monday, July 26, 2004 at 01:02 p.m.

Maybe it's my total, replete and consumate lack of faith in humanity, but something tells me a cancer survivor wouldn't be able to win six Tour de France competitions, legally. Ok, so maybe I'm a bitter old man in a young person's body, but I have to wonder...

And so here we have Lance Armstrong, whose apartment was broken into repeatedly over the course of the year by the French paparazzi in their relentless pursuit to show that the American is indeed a fraud and a liar and is doping.

His tests repeatedly come back clean, which can only mean one thing: He's using a drug that isn't detectable by current screens.

Common sense tells me that it's tough enough for one person of excellent health and fitness with years of training to win a Tour de France, just once. But six times? Please. So we must consider tactics, but to do this we must also realize that his tactics the first few times he won would've been meticulously scrutinized, frame by frame and noted then simulated by other players. Assuming that was done and it surely was, then that's a dead end.

So what remains? What gives him that extra edge which when combined with everything else -- his training, general health and fitness -- allows him to repeatedly beat the world's finest?

Dope. Some quality and state of the art, dope. A kilo of it.

Now, perhaps he is the best, surely, but to win six times after overcoming cancer, that begs analysis and questioning. So I say he's doping and it's only a matter of time until the French uncover how he's doping and what he's using.

Now all of this may make me sound like a critic, but since he seems to be superman, what if the committee governing the race decided to make Lance run on a handicap? Like two busted ankles and one broken leg with a cast?

That's what I say. I say they smash him to bits and then glue his various parts and pieces back together, weld him to the bike and let him race the next Tour de France in that condition.

If he wins again then, I'll personally convert to Christianity and title him the new Jesus.

posted by qalam on Sunday, July 25, 2004 at 08:37 a.m.

It's obvious to any sensible person that relationships succeed or fail based on the habits and personalities of the people involved.

In that vein, when either or both parties own pets or any other animals, they create a new dynamic of behavior and thinking and often times this takes on a comical hue.

I've discovered a few unspoken laws.

1. If any person is alone with the animal and it           
   proceeds to evacuate either intestines or bladder,
   it's the responsibility of said person to deal with the  
   matter.

2. If both parties are in the vicinity of an animal and it 
   begins to evacuate one or both organs involved with 
   excretion, it is the responsibility of whomever sees it 
   first or whomever is closest in proximity to the animal, 
   to address the issue.

Amusingly, if neither party addresses the fact that the animal just defecated/urinated, an interesting however predictable thing happens.

The rules would be turned on their respective heads and shit would begin to build up in the form of mounds in various places of the residence.

As I continue to study this phenomenon the rules written above will be but a starting point for perhaps a tome.

posted by qalam on Saturday, July 24, 2004 at 08:25 a.m.

After rejecting four invitations to meet with the NAACP, the nation's oldest civil rights organization, it only makes sense that this morning I see the president live on the telley lecturing his family values and his talk of "souls" to the NUL, National Urban League.

His desperation not to seem like even more of a racist found fruit with the NUL which erred in allowing the man to speak at the conference.

Kerry's flag was nonetheless firmly planted on NUL territory as he spoke to the group earlier in the week, thankfully.

I must've heard Bush use the word "soul" or it's plural atleast a dozen times. I thought for a while I was listening to Pope Urban II galvanizing Romans for a Crusade.

It was all par for the course for the NUL which is a conservative black organization judging by the number of confused idiots who applauded Bush whenever he made a startlingly coherent remark. NUL therefore doesn't mind hearing things expressed in religious terms, which concerns me that they have political sway, or think they do anyway.

When religion attempts dominate the political sphere instead of rationalist statesmanship, it's time to grab the AK-47 off the wall and pull the pistol out of the drawer, because some group is about to get put into some ovens.

I'll never understand black conservatives. Are they just idiots who are unaware of the racist party they support? Are they just idealistic humanists which are all too willing to forgive and forget?

8 out of 10 blacks remain firmly democratic which leaves two dumbass fools who can't tell the sheep from the wolves, politically.

Nader, it seems is being supported in many states by Republicans who want to put him on the ballot in order to chip away the democratic vote.

Due to this, Ralph Nader has lost all credibility and respectability and is merely a tool of whomever wishes to bankroll his influence in order to attack an opposing political faction. The fact the Republonazis are supporting Nader proves the shameless hypocrisy of the moralizing Republican party and further demonstrates the whore-like nature of Nader and how weak his ethics are.

He'll let his party and platform take any dick up its ass so long as it's got cash strapped to the shaft.

Now, I'll admit, I used to be a Nader Raider and a big fan of his platform. However, due to recent embarassments and ethically bankrupt policies he's adopted insofar as who he'll let pimp him, I've grown ashamed of my past views and repudiate them and those who supported them.

In other news, the Greeks have requested international security assistance for the upcoming games, and in their request they specifically noted that they don't want any "Texas Sheriffs" or "Rambo's."

I can't blame them, the last thing they need are trigger happy hicks and mercenary lunatics looking for Greek contracts. Apparently the Israelis are to have a major security presence, may they be shot at and blown up, those vile oppressive bastards.

Moving on, the Republicans stole the last election, let's see if they manage to legitimately lose this time. In most polls the democratic ticket is in dead heat with the fascist ticket. If the Democrats manage to lose this election they deserve to be lined up and mowed down for incompetence and lack of vigor.

Factoring in that toxic swine Nader would probably cost the democrats dearly, it would cost them the next four years. Actually, it would cost the moral fiber and international repute of the USA, dearly, as well.

posted by qalam on Friday, July 23, 2004 at 08:31 a.m.

The worst nightmare (well, ok, perhaps not the worst) of religionists around the world has been revealed at an Israeli zoo. (redundant, I know)

The first ape/monkey to walk exclusively upright after a stomach ailment shocks observors. Missing link? Perhaps. This certainly qualifies as an eye-opener for religious types who think evolution requires "faith" or impregnable "assumptions."

Monkey man.

Other news -- only idiots would see "Reefer Madness."

posted by qalam on Thursday, July 22, 2004 at 09:43 a.m.

Today marks an unfortunate point in American-Iraqi affairs, as the death toll from occupation rises to 900. 900 young men and women of the American armed forces have died for either combat or non-combat, but mostly combat reasons.

As these people fought, died and were generally used as fodder for the cause of not liberating Iraq, but removing a threat to the illegitimate state of Israel and for the cause of securing the world's second largest proven oil reserves, the American public continues to be misled by a fanatical president who evokes the same glint in his eyes as the former Taliban leader Mutawakil had when conversations ebbed to the topic of executions in public.

Ofcourse the Europeans (given their bloody political history and infighting) and the rest of the world (it being a victim of Europe for hundreds of years colonially and economically) can read in between the lines -- something the US population does not do. But it's not surprising, as polls some while ago showed that the vast majority of Americans believed that Iraq was connected to al-Qa'ida. That an ultra-religious hyper-fanatical uber-fundamental super-secretive global terrorist network was connected to... a secular country, namely Iraq, a country whose leadership was weaned on the political diet of devout anti-religious secularism.

But, the polls don't lie.

So, Bush lied to the country and his eager-to-please-da-massa-house-slaves Rice and don't-call-da-popo Powell and other assorted stooges (Perle, Wolfowitz, Benard Lewis inter alia.) who collectively don't have enough backbone to stiffen an old man's limp penis, not only went along for the ride but were clamoring for a position like maggots over a corpse, to ride shotgun on the seat of a vast political machine whose sole purpose was to churn out deception after ill-conceived lie after deception to dupe the easily dupable American public into falling in love with the war.

To be fair to the public, they're easily dupable not because of their unbridled and unparalled political naivete or ignorance of world realities. No, they're easily dupable because they've been choking on a diet of propaganda from their leaders since the country began to think it was a good idea to start foreign wars and topple democratically elected governments across the plnet merely because they were left-leaning. In other words, a very, very long time.

So what else is news?

Not much at all.

Who remembers when the Bush and Dick Cheney went before the American people claiming that Iraq posed an "imminent" danger?

I do.

Who remembers when that rank bastard Colin Powell went before the UN as though he was about to bake "massa" a cake with his pound of flour from the slave market but somehow wandered into the wrong room in the UN, sat down and began claiming that the same bag he would've used for his massa's cake had he not wandered into the wrong room, could contain the anthrax that Iraq has and was about to use?

Now, how his massa-lovin slavish ass knows anything about anthrax is a fucking miracle. He must've read it in issue number 12 of "Wattamelon," the wanna-be-free-slave weekly for the black and politically-connected, or some bullshit.

Who remembers that?

I fucking do, goddamnit.

So where's the imminent danger? The WMD's? Where's the anthrax?

Up Colin's just-freshly-packed ass?

I guess so.

But oh, oh how Republikkkans want to forget those days. Just wash those days down with a cold one whose bottle-top was just snapped off cousin-mah's semen, nicotine and tartar-stained bucked teeth.

Goddamn Republicans.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, July 21, 2004 at 10:29 a.m.

In the framework of current global commodity-demand increases and in the nexus between the corporate realpolitik of today which supplies the world and the demands of national consumers for a fairly priced product, there emerges the architecture of a new struggle.

What oil was to the 20th century, water is to the 21st.

It is the remaining natural resource which resists marketization and commodification and that resistance requires aid.

Yesterday night, PBS -- a bastion of liberal thought -- aired a program entitled "Thirst." People were shown; workers were rallying and being made redundant and let go, conferences were highlighted where corporations had a presence; protestors were everywhere at times, and there was tension in the air. From Rajesthan, India to Stockton California, corporations in their aim to increase profits have acquired a new target in their reticles.

Water.

It is the only thing which throughout time has been used in ritual, life-sustaining farming, trade, cleansing and faith ceremonies. It is now at risk of losing its status as a granted and unquestioned product of natural processes and may become a packaged and marketed product sold to people who at one time merely had to go to the local well to retrieve the life-sustaining element.

There is a clash of culture, not Huntingtonian "civilizations," where global corporate cultures are clashing face to face with local community cultures and practices, and the communities will ultimately lose if the global citizenry is not made aware of this threat.

As the planet's population inceases and doubles as the decades pass, the ultimate essence of life and existence is predicated upon the very simple substance that we know as H20. As the population of the planet increases, so does the level of water-borne contamination and pollution.

De-salinization is extremely-expensive and only the rentier-states of the arab gulf readily use it. As a potential result of the privatization of this single essential global natural resource, civil disorder and unrest would emerge should corporations be granted or force their way into the forum of trading water. One day, if a stranglehold comes to exist on the global water market in the form of a corporate monopoly, things would naturally descend into chaos.

What would people do if they had to pay for water they could not otherwise afford?

Most of the people in the world go to wells for their water, commodifying water would result in vast swathes of humanity being unable to survive. Corporations are well aware of the fiscal realities which govern the lives of the poor. It exists in the perverted venal scope of their thinking that effectively disallowing a population access to affordable water would mean their survival would be negated.

In the name of profit, the planet's only remaining genuinely important natural resource is being tainted by the gluttonous profiteering of multi-national corporations who respect the bottom line much more than the intrinsic right to life, for the poor of the world.

There will come a time, it is only a matter of geometrically increasing mathematical probability, that as the fresh water of the world is strained by unbounded population growth and tainted by the pollution created by that growth that decisions which border on the inhumane will be made to ensure the survival of the world's wealthier citizenry at the cost of the world's poorest.

That cost, will be their lives.

posted by qalam on Monday, July 19, 2004 at 01:34 p.m.

Why is it that American anti-terrorism officials are boasting about the lack of terrorist attacks against the US post-9/11?

"We haven't experienced an attack in three years..."

That's the oft-spoken line. Well gee, the US didn't experience that many attacks from al-Qa'ida or anyone else prior 9/11, either. Did that mean the CIA was doing it's job before 9/11 with supreme success? Nope. So the PR deception becomes apparent when propagandist officials began spouting about repulsing terrorism in the last few years.

Now, I think most people are all in favor of not being blown up, but being manipulated never goes down well with anyone, in my view.

In the lexicon of intelligence "professionals," the "assymetric" threat remains a potent factor in MENA politics and social affairs.

On the smut front: corporate criminal Martha Stewart gets the minimum sentence for lying about insider trading and her perfectly-timed selling of her Imclone stock. Ofcourse she gets the minimum, in a country like the US where class distinctions are concealed through the lens of egalitarianesque political persuasions, policies and economics; class realities remain. The rich get off light and easy and the poor don't.

Had Martha Stewart been some clown bastard like that bloke trader that brought down England's oldest bank, she'd be getting the chair. What's worse are the class blind idiots who still support Stewart by shouting words of praise and encouragement while standing on the street corner whenever Stewart makes a statement in public.

The government, instead of delivering a stern blow for the cause of class justice and equality pandered and tripped over itself to suckle on the teat of privileged relationship. In that vein, Stewart got off easy. She gets two-years of probabtion, five months in the clink and five under house arrest in one of her multi-million dollar mansions in Beford, for five months.

Oh yes, that's real punishment.

posted by qalam on Friday, July 16, 2004 at 09:50 a.m.

Recently, two al-Qa'ida "sounding boards" surrendered themselves to the Saudis under their offer of amnesty and protection.

Suleiman al-Makki and Ibrahim al-Harbi were the ideologues in question.

These two fine gentlemen and upstanding members of the international community who devoted their lives to the service of humanity and global peace decided it seems, that it would be best to take up the Saudis on their offer.

One can only wonder at what Osama must be thinking about these two traitors to his cause.

Ofcourse, these two people weren't active on the operational level of al-Qa'ida but were merely people with whom Osama batted around ideas. The US administration ofcourse considers this a massive blow against al-Qa'ida, and I suppose to an extent it is. I imagine that it's akin to arresting Johnny and Andy Goodseed, Kenny Lay's high school chums on charges of money laundering and embezzling. It's more symbolism and desperation than a real strike against al-Qa'ida.

However, I suppose the effort exerted in the aim of deflecting attention from Bush's current domestic political woes to the recent surrenders of these two al-Qa'ida people, serves some ultimate purpose. It does.

It covers up the blemishes and the failures of his administration on every front -- from deficit spending to the War on Error.

These two recent surrenders shine the spotlight on Bush's impotence in finding the "terrorist killers" and "evildoers" through a prism of contrast.

On the one hand, these two chaps are done for; on the other -- bin Laden is scampering around Waziristan thumbing his nose at US forces.

posted by qalam on Thursday, July 15, 2004 at 01:54 p.m.

Today is the third day of my house-sitting adventure.

The power went out yesterday.

As I sat, naked, viewing CNN, letting their garbage pass in one ear and out the other, I reminded myself that it would still be far better to watch CNN, than turn to Faux News for "fair and balanced" coverage of world events.

Right about then, is when it happened.

While I was letting my mind overcome me with the ennui-produced effects of a kaleidescopic meshing of the voices in my head and the misshapen faces on tv, I was in a state of agitation. The power went out.

Instantly, I was caught in a moment of terror. I, in those few seconds reverted into a more primitive man. Pupils dilated, cowering on the floor gazing upwards like Homo Erectus thinking the blinking stars had been snuffed out by some infinitely-powerful being. While on all fours I began sniffing. My world was turned on its head. My CNN, snatched away from me.

"Get cave," "get fire, get females..." "wait-out storm outside."

I galloped on all fours into the kitchen, swatting myself and called my lady.

In between grunts, sharp gasps and the sound of my banging the phone against the floor in apish terror and frustration, I communicated the source of my distress.

"Power [grunt]. Stars. [snarls] Away. Away. [grunt] Make back."

In response all I could make out was "boxes," "outside" and "switches." That's when I hung up. I roamed around for some short while and then collapsed back on the couch. Grabbing a stem, my genetic memory kicked in and I instinctively rammed it into the ground, pulling it back covered in ants and sliding it through my mouth.

Ants.

Scrumptious.

After I did what she told me, the power came back on and my world before my eyes in Lord of The Rings-like magic re-assembled itself. CNN flickered back on. Lou Dobbs. Fascist blob. Ugh. I was a man again.

Today, Otis pee'd on me.

He was laying on my chest and he let it all go. Luckily, I was in a robe, but as my eyes wandered over to my remote-control hand, I saw my tan-colored skin dripping. It was great. Boredom is a drug unto itself. I was ice-cream ape man.

After some minutes my mind kicked in and it thought to itself:

"You know, asshole, Otis usually isn't this warm. What could it be?"

Minutes became seconds, things flashed through my mind.

"Hot, no smoke, hmm. Wet, no rain, hmm..."

"Fuck."

Then I knew. I lifted him off me, and he gazed back wearily and droopy-eyed at me. He knew his ass was mine. I rushed him to the bathroom sink and with "Joy" liquid soap proceeded to give him a bath and washed my own hands.

The ever-lasting echoing sound that the word "Fuck" makes when it is uttered in the genuine manner it is intended, rings against the walls long after it is blasted.

That echoing, was going on in my head.

After all was said and done, after a good rebuke, Otis and I knew it was just a matter of time until he decided to do it again. We resigned ourselves to it and because of that our stern rebukes to each other were lazy and meaningless.

In other news -- George W. Bush is a racist.

I know, I know, you didn't need a sage to tell you that. Recently, Bush turned down four invites to speak at NAACP meetings. The latest rejection came by was of a rather lame and weak excuse, weak and brittle, like the man's intellect -- "It doesn't fit my schedule."

Well, Mr. Bush, I guess winning in November doesn't fit your schedule either.

This kind of behavior typifies the racism rampant in the country and most notably, in the Republican party.

The Republican party, is indeed a party of racists, bible bigots and generally speaking obtuse Southernors who wished they still owned slaves. Just ask Ronald Reagan's son.

In fact, they still do own slaves.

Dr. Rice and Mr. Powell couldn't have been comforted by this more recent decision on the part of their "compassionate conservative" and a "uniter not a divider," president.

However, the racist tone shouldn't have surprised them, what's worrying to begin with is why they'd align themselves with such a party to begin with.

I guess they had to fulfil the token Uncle Tom quota of the administration to prove that the Republicans aren't racist, because they "have black friends."

This latest refusal on the part of the fascist administration to speak at the 2004 NAACP Convention in Philadelphia just goes to prove that whether Republicans are wearing bed-sheets or suits, the same thinking lives on as it lived on in the thoughts, actions and mindsets of their ancestors.

posted by qalam on Monday, July 12, 2004 at 04:52 p.m.

It happened this morning.

I knew what it was, almost immediately.

The sensation overwhelmed the thoughts coursing through my mind as I stood there naked, one foot in the air. A tear in my eye, an "Oh fucking shit!" dancing on my lips, gently, pitter-patter, "fuck fuck," I knew.

My vulnerability in that moment cannot be overstated, I was nude, dingle-berries dangling, twig shying away in fear of what may come next, perhaps another misstep?

Perhaps.

It was in the bathroom and I was on a mat, standing. After brushing my teeth the towel hanging off the sliding-glass shower door seemed to beckon me, so I approached.

As I stepped forward, my left foot went first. I didn't move for the next five minutes, as blood was in my eyes and a thought, reverberating violently, singular in essence, was in my mind. "OtisSsSs."

While neither I nor my lali were looking, sometime during the day or night, Otis carefully plopped-out a landmine from his never ending source: his self-cleaning anus. It was positioned with such accuracy and correctitude that I believe they should clone Otis and put him on the tips of smart bombs, as if they did none would ever go errant. I've been watched by him from day one, he knew where I usually dried off... and where I walked to do it. He even knew, quite possibly, which foot went first. My left foot must have at some time, done something evil to him. That is the only rational conclusion.

It was logular, cold, soft, long... and all of it, stuck to the bottom of my left fucking foot. It looked like I stepped on a thick, long black worm and squished it.

It wouldn't come off, so naturally, I instinctively screamed like a stuck bitch for my woman.

"Lali!!! It fucking shitted!!! Save me!!!"

And so naturally she came running along and like the quintessential perfection she is, knew what to do. With lightening quickness she grabbed a gob of tiolet paper and smeared it while wiping it off. It took in all, four swipes. You can imagine my terror. To feel death, one must know what it feels like to have cold, soft shit wiped off the sole of one's foot.

That is death.

I hopped in the shower forthwith and felt emotionally scarred, such a betrayal by my little puppy, I never saw it coming. Such a primal, vicseral act of hostility from a sweet little black pup, but it happened.

Not but 1 pound, my Otis -- a would-be assassin.

Even now, as I write this, he's curled up in a ball of shame, in my lap. He knew what he did, and only he will ever know why:


On another note, after the incident with the shit on the floor which felt like an ambush from the second I felt it, I took my lali to the dentist, and what joys were unearthed.

Of what joy do I speak?

Why, the joy of keeping other people's teeth, ofcourse! As seen below, after a simple request to the dentist asking him if I could have "My lady's teeth." I was handed the two items in question over, in a dashing yellow envelope I add with some glee.

You'll never know what you can get if you don't ask for it, and now I have a treasured and prized memento (two, yay for me) that I shall always keep close to the loose change in my pockets to keep me company come the days when my lali is far away.

And no, I don't feel disgusting, morbid or "sick as fuck" for doing it. Even though my lali after I filed the request with the dentist did say to the good doctor that I was indeed, "sick like that."

Ofcourse I always take it as I do most things -- in fine and good stride. Now, to the jewels:


It is the fine young man that's got your teeth to whom you answer. It's true, and she hates the fact I have the teeth which is all the reason I need to never lose them.

posted by qalam on Thursday, July 8, 2004 at 11:02 a.m.

Islam.

Islam is a derivation of the word 'Salaam,' which means peace; the word (or 'kalima' in Arabic) Islam itself means submission to the divine. In understanding the clear etymological connection between the word "peace" and "submission" one understands that "submission" itself, is sublime. The etymology is equivalent much in the same way that 'Afghan' is a derivation of the Arab word 'feghan' which means disruptive, essentially. Something I've always held as a personal badge of honor and as a point of humor.

As of late a tremendous number of things have been taking place that the international media has covered, which have to do with Islam, at least indirectly. All of this injected a contemplative mood in me and so I asked myself:

What does Islam, mean to me?

Islam, unlike the other two great monotheisms Christianity and Judaism, is imbued with the hues of social thinking of the times it was revealed. Many of the violent quotes that missionaries enjoy using on Muslims or amongst themselves to somehow "prove" something also deny the context which governed the meaning of such verses.

So missionaries begin quoting suras or verses calling for slaying this or that group of people either ignorant of or fully aware that the revelation in specific had to do with, for example, repulsing pagan attacks on Muslim strongholds in Medina or Mecca. In the correct context, the meaning of the verse becomes clear and one realizes that interpretation without context is a dangerous road followed only by missionaries who slander Islam's good name for their own nefarious ends. Muslims understand this and see this.

The erudite person is however unfazed by such attempts and sees them coming miles away. The general perception among the global Muslim population of Christianity, is that it should be viewed carefully and with suspicion. This comes about for myriad political reasons from wars to issues with Israel, the list is almost endless. However, it is for this reason among others that the Muslim conversion rate to Christianity is almost nil, while the opposite conversion/reversion rate is skyrocketing in some places and in other places extremely strong and quite steady.

Post-9/11 as interest in Islam and more notably the Qur'an skyrocketed, conversions followed. I myself was asked by a person I worked with as a tutor at a local community college about converting, that person has since our initial discussion converted and has found new meaning in his life; a new meaning that his previous Catholic faith could not provide him. I'm sure others can recount stories such as this ad nauseum.

There is a certain flexibility in the Qur'an due to something known as 'ijtihad' or innovation, one can be a Muslim in quite a number of ways. One can interpret 'ijtihad' to mean what one wants it to mean within the parameters of Islam. There is no concept such as this within Christianity, in order to re-interpret something in a new way and start a following based on that, one must start a new church, this explains the abundance of churches and their scriptural-interpretive antagonisms. If you want to do the same in Catholicism, expect yourself ex-communicated before business Friday. Due to 'ijtihad' there is a certain dynamism and in effect "rust-resistance" to Islamic theology. 'Ijtihad' offers 'taqleed' or "tradition" a competitor, and because of that, blind adherence to faith/tradition is one of many routes Muslims can follow.

Now, on to me.

I follow 'ijtihad' as my atheism only affords enough space for my thinking and living in an Islamic manner without the one critical component of my believing in God -- an Islam-lite, if you will. Islam without faith means a life of atheism replete with the rich scents and hues of a political culture and social system enriched by over 1400 years of Middle Eastern thought. I don't have faith, but with Islam, life isn't empty. Islam comes with more than just revelation, it offers a complete way of life from how to pray, a malleable political structure, to what and how to eat etc., which I blithely pick and choose from.

All of this comes to what I've focused on, a thesis of sorts. Due to my lack of faith, a few options exist from which I've chosen a few. I've carried with me the laws of Islam in the social and political sense. Beyond that, I've taken nothing. Nothing else theistically is worth having, either from Islam or any other faith. All mandate a belief in the absurd, not the rational, and even without the requisite belief in God, Islam remains the only monotheism due to its "total living system" of ethics, dietary law and thinking that still has something worthy to offer.

I've taken those offerings from the moment I became aware of them.

Due to my views, values and what I adhere to, I've viewed Islam purely in a political light. I view Islam as a vehicle of political expression. I view Islam as a vehicle of social thought, a means of revolution against materialist value systems and a conveyer of both the law and immutability of a correct moral system founded upon the unchanging pillar of a religious framework. Caused by all of this, one can be an "Islamist" and not even believe in God. Because of 'ijtihad' things begin to become interesting.

To view Islam purely in a socio-political light may at first seem awkward to the average Muslim; however for someone with a critically rational individualist perspective who remains "faithful" to Islam, 'ijtihad' allows one to view it in that light, if one deems it fit.

It is the ability to harness and interpret that allows for flexibility in Islam by way of 'ijtihad.'

As long as man is at essence a political animal, then "Political Islam" coupled with the social norms it encompasses, will remain a factor in the collective pool of global social, moral and political thinking. Christianity and Judaism don't have their feet in the water due to their doctrines lacking explicitly anything like 'ijtihad,' and for that reason lack flexibility.

Judaism is not contemporary and lacks a vital essense to make it relevant in the world today, politically and socially. The number of Jews globally, is also dropping. Christianity in the form of Catholicism lacks a vigor and due to that has "bled" members to other faiths, like Islam, and has found itself trapped within a bureacracy not only of its own making but threatening the very own nature of the Church as a holy institution, something already cast into doubt by Catholics themselves.

Protestantism itself lacks the structure of the Church but has vigor, due to this one Protestant church may carry a radically or mildly different message from any other Protestant church and due to the lack of the Catholic Church's structure, Protestantism remains lacking an overall cohesive form and internal similarity or congruity, due to this internal competition there can emerge even more radically different theologies, once the playing field of Protestant Church theology becomes too crowded, causing even further fracturing within the sect as it takes place among new Protestant churches as they emerge.

However the vigor of individual perspective it contains in its approach to Biblical theology allows for one "to always be right" if one thinks one is, because there is no greater church hierarchy that espouses or enforces a "correct" interpretation. Due to this, the faith of this sect essentially turns into a matter of opinion, due to the lack of hierarchy.

It is an interesting analysis, the very same structure that is killing the Catholic Curch is the same order and structure the Protestant denominations require in order to organize themselves into a semblance of a cohesion in order to become a more viable global player for souls.

In a span of time, as Protestant churches emerge as they are now, they become less like a cohesive sect and more and more like individual religions among each respective church with their own doctrines and hierarchies caused by their own interpretations of different versions of bibles. None of this bodes well for Christianity. What is the alternative to Judiasm and Christianity? It seems, according to the converstion rate among Christians (Catholic and Protestant,) that it's Islam.

Alright, I've explained my views. I've analysed other faiths from my own first-hand experience and these are the conclusions I've come to, essentially. I've left out non-Abrahamic faiths because I don't want to write another book, but just a post.

I hope through all of this you now see perhaps a better picture of who I am.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, July 7, 2004 at 11:32 a.m.

Well, July 4th came and went and I spent the day with two aunts at Laguna Beach down here in So. Cal. Weather was excellent, nice breeze from the West.

Arabs, Afghans and Persians everywhere celebrating the independence of the shisha and the liberation of the hashish. I've never seen so many of the three aforementioned Middle Eastern flavors present, all in one place, for that long without a planning session going on, really. I was walking around and I probably passed more Syrians and Egyptians than Mexicans, and this is Southern Cali folks, hala hala.

I passed about a dozen or so muhajaba-types brimming with rajula in their wifebeaters and shehada-emblazoned bandanas, one was sporting an "Allah" medallion which was so ostentatious you'd think he borrowed it from Ali G. These goofballs couldn't have been more than 17, at the oldest yet were walking around strutting like battle-hardened al-Qa'ida -- all of this on the 4th of July, irony everwhere. I didn't spot but a dozen -- throughout the whole day there -- white folks, what we Afghans lovingly call "Safidposti." American CIA and Special Forces should stop looking for cells in other places and focus on the 4th of July celebrations at beaches across SoCal.

In all, I probably walked past 15 to 20 cells either smoking shisha, looking lasciviously at passing white women or having conversations about the guy with said woman to the theme of:

"Ya Hassan, you think I could kick that guy's ass?"

...

"Aiwa, Aiwa, you can kick everybody's ass Hassan, now pass the sheesh."

Security was everywhere and it was piss-weak. Fat pigs walking around who in a firefight would probably take three minutes to reach for the side-arm and another five to acquire and neutralize an enemy. Osama bin Laden could've walked successfully past most of the cops there seeing as the pigs would be too busy cleaning their five inch-thick coke-bottle glasses to notice the tall keffiyeh'd Arab stroll right on by.

I was perched the whole while -- after finding a parking spot about a half-click North -- with a nice view of the ocean, crouched over a styrofoam cup filled with sweet tea overlooking a picnic area below and to my right sprawling with Afghans and Arabs, a veritable "little Gaza."

Wound up leaving around six o'clock as the fireworks would start at 9:00 and I had no intention of milling about until then, no chance. Passed Las Brisas a few times looking at the rich white folk whining and dining no doubt totally unaware of the Hizbullah 2004 convention taking place a few dozen feet up the road.

To an extent, the aforementioned serves as a perfect metaphor for American ignorance of global or even regional happenings. Happily, that ignorance is fading away as the globalization of media becomes ever more pervasive, down to the small-town level.

However in places like Orange County, where nothing, not even light penetrates the Orange Curtain, ignorance on the part of the laity holds steadfast and strong.

At any rate, the two aunts whom I've named "Evil" and "Perdition" want to go to Afghanistan after I graduate, to visit relatives et cetera. They want me to come along and I very well might, but who knows.

posted by qalam on Monday, July 5, 2004 at 04:14 p.m.

Recently, in what amounts to something closely resembling an "actionable" political maneuver, the Bush administration handed over constitutional control of Iraq to the Interim leadership consisting of Iyad Allawi as PM and Ghazi al-Yawar, the president, a full two days in advance of the June 30th deadline.

Iyad used to be a Ba'ath party operative in the good old days of Saddam's regime. When Hussein was on the rise within the Ba'ath, Allawi used to be one of his thugs. Already, concerns arise such as the aforementioned and more continue to be uncovered and voiced, despite it falling on deaf ears in the administration, lest something be admitted which would only further reveal a new level of political hypocrisy and moral equivocation which during election season in the US, bodes poorly for Bush.

This recent decision to hand over power is an act of clear desperation, as the administration wishes to rid its invasion of "Occupier" status and hand over existing problems to a nascent and unstable political bureaucracy and mechanism. The administration seeks to wipe its hands clean in order to win an upcoming election, the problem is that the stains are of blood and the open wounds do not so easily stitch closed.

However, the yolk of imperialist hegemony is not easily thrown from the necks of occupiers and invaders, the smear and political shame of a country guilty of being a hegemon is even less easier to conceal or cast to the oblivion of public memory.

Bombings continue, assassinations abound and all in the midst of an election season amounts to a dire and severe necessity emerging: hand-washing. This is especially dangerous as desperation rises to put a good face on the administration's efforts and its invasion for the coming November mass-vote. Bush, in reality, couldn't have picked a better time to reveal the truly cavernous depths of his incompetence.

As Bush prances around his Oval office with green toy soldiers being smacked together back and forth while "woosh" sounds erupt from his face, Condi and Powell look on in sadness in part, and in despair. They should. An American marine has been captured and his captors are threating to put the blade to his neck, however the recent handing over of power is meant to cover this idiot's kidnapping. Not only that, but the overall unfinished job the American forces there have left behind cannot be ignored.

Pipelines are being blown up, the head of security for Bechtel's Northern oil operations was gunned down a few weeks ago. Clearly, what Bush has handed over isn't autonomy and security, but rather weakness and instability, all in the name of domestic political gain. If it weren't election season, only a fool would believe that such a quick handover would be have been carried out. It reeks of political desperation, but not even this act will save him from the wrath of his political enemies, who are legion.

The very assertion that the occupation itself has ended, is questionable on its face. Over 140,000 American and coalition of "the willing" troops remain. I don't know about my readers, but when I think of a country calling itself independent and autonomous, there are a few measurements with which I gauge the veracity of that claim. Here are a few things I don't think abet the new leaders of Iraq nor aid in terms of autonomy and independence.

1. I don't think of 140,000 inbred hicks wiring their cd players to their tanks and wandering around looking to shoot at someone.

2. I don't think of a stooge council of interim "leaders" picked by the invader, as legitimate.

3. I don't think of the rampant violence and instability as lending itself gracefully and seamlessly to future plans for stability and political legitimacy.

I'm sure I could go on with the list, actually I know I could but those stand out the most. What Bush has handed over isn't something one should, as a leader of Iraq, be willing to accept with alacrity. Bush has handed over a time bomb. With all the insurgents operating in Iraq, with other countries engaging in geo-political intrigue in Iraq, like Iran, Syria, Israel and Turkey, autonomy isn't what comes to mind when I think of "a new Iraq."

The Turks are trying to quell Kurdish nationalist aspirations while the Israelis are using the Kurds to spy on Iranian nuclear ambitions by feeding them lies of future support for their nationalist dreams despite the fact that Israel would never break ties with Turkey, the last thing the Israelis want is one more Muslim enemy.

The Syrians in collaboration with the Iranians are and continue to establish massive intelligence networks among the Shia of Southern Iraq, the Iranians have a special interest in intelligence activity as a means to undermine American control over Iraq and specifically, to make sure that the Iranians have at their side throughout current trying times the Shi'a of Iraq which comprise the majority of the country, over 50%.

No, I'm sorry, I really don't see peace, stability and prosperity in Iraq's future, and all of this misery wrought by a cowboy president who lied about WMD's in order to kill untold thousands and exact revenge against the people who tried to pop his daddy.

Surely, one understands where Bush, a person of ambiguous mental capacity, is coming from. He wants to save face for future elections, but at what cost to Iraq? You see, he doesn't care about Iraq as now it's "sovereign" and he can therefore no longer be held responsible for the continuing death and destruction brought about by his actions, right? Yeah, right. The man just wants to win election, so what's so wrong with that? Nothing, except the price that has to be paid with innocent lives in Iraq.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, June 29, 2004 at 09:59 a.m.

A few nights ago my lady and I met up with one of her friend's to go see a film. Farenheit 9/11 just premiered on the East coast and was now making its triumphal debut in the West. My normal readership knows where I stand with Mr. Moore and his films and for those who don't know I'll iterate -- he's a delight to hear speak and it's a pleasure to see films made by him. I recommend the movie to anyone but don't feel in the mood to re-hash the entire structure and highlights of the film. Moore's role in the film was quite understated and served little more than to verbally highlight the thoughts and feelings the images and documents conveyed. Luckily he didn't fall into the trap of most film makers by stealing the limelight from the cause being championed, as he did with Bowling for Columbine, for instance.

posted by qalam on Sunday, June 27, 2004 at 09:49 a.m.

I was driving around with my lady some days ago when I noticed right-wing drivel oozing out of the speakers of the radio, and it seems that as of late talk radio stations have been blasting nonsense about round-ups of illegal immigrants in Southern California.

What I fail to understand is why the fascist right-wing of the country in its infinite brilliance has failed to grasp with incestuous fingers still bearing fluid residue from mommy, that illegal immigrants form the backbone of labor and agriculture for most states, if not all states. It's rank hypocrisy or unbridled stupidity, perhaps both, that governs the logic behind their screeds and rants.

The very people right-wingers would like to put in camps, expel or murder off because they actually do manual hard labor are the same people that pick those strawberries we all enjoy as we waddle toward our SUVs from the market complaining about the heat when its 81 degrees Farenheit. I'm hard pressed to think right-wingers are unable to see the illogic of their argument, so what possibility remains?

Racism born of resentment. They just don't like the fact that poor, brown people who get paid dollars a day are performing back-breaking labor to serve their decadence. They perform manual labor of one of the harshest sorts. They strap bags to their backs and spend their days leaning over, lifting what's picked and rising up again, in the heat of midday all throughout states all around the union. What's more illuminating is that the hatred harbored by the American right-wing is rooted not only in racism but resentment that these illegal immigrants put in more work in one day than right-wingers have probably ever done in a week.

It's not that right-wingers are stupid (granted, most are,) they just hate being reminded that back-breaking labor is being carried out by poor underpaid brown people and that, that's what's necessary to serve their consumption needs. It makes right-wingers feel like the pigs they are when they squeal about kicking out illegals. Illegals won't ever be kicked out because there isn't a white protestant male alive in this country that would do the work that illegals do day in and day out.
"You mean give up the truck, move in a shanty and do work like this for the rest of my life?"
"You mean live in a house filled with 25 other sweaty white guys into the forseeable future?"

"...Fuck that Johnny!"

Instead, the hatred and mentally-deficient jingoism right-wingers perspire when they're not oozing it, is a thin veneer for an even thinner patina of deception covering a morbid truth: right-wingers are racist because it boils their blood knowing they can't live an aryan paradise existence without someone out in the far distant reaches of a still further flung field... picking cotton for them.

What riles them up further is the simple fact that despite their utmost vile and morally reprehensible hatred and historical brutality towards others not bearing their skin tone or political views -- they realize their own human deficiencies and shortcomings and in this realization their own perceived supriority crumbles into a pile of shit.

They just can't have that happening.

Most of the right-wingers if not all of them in this country tend to be backwards fundamentalist Christian types who are fine with recounting the tales and words of Jesus inside the church, but the second they leave those hallowed walls they dawn the bedsheet of the Klan.

They can't restrain their rampant hatred of illegals as they patrol the streets of Orange County and elsewhere in their SUVs because whenever they see one standing and trimming weeds or grass on a concrete island in the middle of a street as they pass it, they feel their ego is struck down, that their white aryan paradise may not be all they cracked it up to be through the years of spewing propaganda against immigrants. It seems they've finally bought into the lie they perpetuated.

Sure, Jesus was a Palestinian Jew carpenter in modern terms, it riles up right-wingers to put it this way, even though it's true.

"...but I'll be damned if I lift a hammer and nail if it isn't to affix a knob to the door of my house. I mean, I'll be a carpenter, but picking strawberries? Even Jesus didn't do that, we right-wingers gotta draw the line somewhere!"

And so goes the shit down the loo with these people.

Ofcourse upon debating or even confronting right-wingers (a rarity as most are severely limited in the brainpower dept.)about their views on illegal immigration one is surely almost inexorably bound to be met with denials, lukewarm words denouncing racism and assertions that "defense" against illegal-immigrants to be a patriotic duty.

Ofcourse it's people with these same views whose ancestors owned or wished they owned slaves and if they didn't own any then atleast had no problem with the oppression of a race of people for over 400 years, a people who were abducted from their home continent. Yeah, these are the people one is dealing with when one deals with the American-right. They're just as "Christian" now as they were then, and believe me when I say they thought themselves as some morally-correct upright "Christians" then, as well. The American Right hasn't changed one bit; they're just not as vociferous as they used to be because minorities have guns and lawyers these days, too. Remove guns and rights from minorities and the American Right will trip over itself to murder blacks and browns again (not kill teh asians, just "intern" them,) whether they need them or not. That's just the nature of the right-wing, with its collective mind wrapped and bound, inverted and perverted so tightly around a concept as meaningless as "race." Then again, race as concept however biologically meaningless is simply all they have to hang on to, without it it they'd be forced to join the rest of humanity.

Nazism not only fails explicitly to reject Christianity; it solemnly declares itself a Christian party. The twenty-fourth point of the "unalterable Party Program" proclaims that the party stands for positive Christianity, without linking itself with one of the various Christian churches and denominations. The term "positive" in this connection means neutrality in respect to the antagonisms between the various churches and sects. I only mention this as it bears a startling resemblance to the doctrines and politics of modern American right-wing parties, just as the Catholic Church stood silent as Jews were burning in ovens across Europe, Nazism and the politics of the American right, not only go hand in hand, but the latter is predicated upon the former.

Racism against a necessary however illegal immigrant minority population today is merely the latest and most popular manifestation of an evil tradition that has existed long before this country was founded.

The American right-wing typifies the nature of political barbarism and moral hyupocrisy.

As Oscar Wilde once put it, "Patriotism is the virtue of the vicious."

posted by qalam on Thursday, June 24, 2004 at 09:22 a.m.

The 2003 Global Trends of Terrorism and Violence report has just been released by the State Department. A few odd things took place on its way to the printer, the most glaring being the fact that figures relating to global terrorist incidents and related loss of life were half of those that actually took place and were recorded. Powell being the stooge and whipping boy of the administration was called to heel and made to issue a formal statement on that matter. He called it embarrassing, I call it political manipulation and creative statistics in action. The look on his face said it all -- "Another day, another presidency, and maybe, just maybe I would've been taken seriously. Maybe I would've been taken seriously as a real policy figure and not smeared by association with the obnoxious drunk I work for." His face said it all, and it said it loudly.

Recently, a South Korean hostage was abducted, video taped wailing about how he loves peace and life and at one point, in hysteria I would imagine, he actually said he wanted to die right after he said he wanted to live, and then promptly a day later, beheaded. He worked for a Korean translation firm and was fluent in Arabic, according to CNN he was an evangelical Christian and according to his parents, once his contract expired, had he not been killed, he would've returned to Iraq as a missionary.

I can't say I'll miss him. South Koreans are notorious for their conservative Christian evangelism and it's unfortunate to see such a man of god as he, atleast in the video it seemed, so unwilling to meet his maker.

Farenheit 9/11. The documentary on the bunglings and political intrigues the Bush administration has engaged in and lived by since the attacks some years ago, are finally revealed by a master director in the person of a one, beloved, Michael Moore. I look forward to seeing it, not too long ago MSNBC aired a debate over the pending film and naturally the conservative on the show didn't want the film released, she however herself didn't even see the film, yet propounded again and again its sinister and devilish nature. Conservatives showing their true colors again -- political intolerance and censorship.

The administration has made it a practice to stonewall and flagrantly lie about the procedures by which information is extracted from Guantanamo detainees and "enemy combatants" held elsewhere, scenarious promulgated by commanders which Rumsfeld in a memo signed-off on included the aggressive use of dogs and methods of torture involving water, of which there are many.

They range from from "water boarding" to "flipping and dunking" as well as one technique made famous by the Israelis which involves chemically inducing a deep stupor in a prisoner, submerging the person in question in frigid water, and by way of electric current violently waking the prisoner while submerged in frigid water creating a sense of immenent drowning and death.

"Flipping and dunking," a common variation of what Americans call "water boarding" is self-explanatory, whereby the subject is strapped to a board, the board attached to a rotating pole the speed of which is adjustable and submerged then flipped repeatedly into and out of frigid water until the subject becomes insensible. All of these techniques including others involving electricity, heat and chemical-based methods (such as locking a detainee in a room with no ventilation and igniting and throwing a tear gas cannister into it, among a multitude of others) are no doubt in implementation among American torturers/interrogators in Iraq, Afghanistan and Guantanamo. Rumsfeld is believed to have only signed-off on water based methods.

The Iranians have gotten lucky as of late in their recent capturing of three Royal Navy semi-rigid boats used in both intelligence and anti-smuggling operations, in all eight personnel of Her Majesty's Navy have been detained by the Iranians and are awaiting trial for violating Iranian sovereignty in the territorial waters of Shatt al-Arabi. A diplomatic row has broken out between the Persian and English government, obviously this is politically motivated as Jack Straw, the FM of Britain has relentlessly pursued a harassment campaign against the Iranian government's nuclear program. A slight switching of the tables seems to have come about due to either good planning by Iranians or bad navigation by the British. In line with recent political rows, "You harras us, we take your ships." sort of behavior has been manifested, rightly.

Conservatives showing their boundless stupidity wasted over 57 million dollars in their pursuit of Bill Clinton over the sex scandal revolving around Lewinsky and a few others all because he committed adultery. In reality, conservatives both congresspersons and senators have been found guilty of adultery and scams in the past, so it's not some form of resurgent impassioned morality which was to blame for such fiscal misbehavior and political rabbelrousing, then what was? What prompted the vile pursuit of man whose sole fault was that he made a moral error and was a quientessential statesman? Fame. They simply couldn't stop the political and socially-progressive rollercoaster Bill Clinton started and in their vain and ignorant efforts failed to stop, so they decided to make an issue of his personal life. In doing so, the Republicans demonstrated once more the everlasting truth of political reality, as redundant as it is it warrants explication -- much like saying "water is wet," Republicans are liars, as a general matter stupid and politically obtuse. People lining bookstores around New York evidence the fact that Bill Clinton was what people wanted and what they loathed to see go, it attests to the fact that no matter what the political-religious kook-right of the country screeches, he was at heart a good man and in the publishing of this book the world is shown that American liberalism is far superior in both moral, political and social measure than its fascistic counter-part. It demonstrates that no matter the lies the right sought to uncover, they only uncovered their own desperation to think they mattered.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, June 22, 2004 at 02:24 p.m.

You know, there used to be a time when calling someone a politician would've meant a harsh retaliatory response. The preferred appellation was "statesman." The slinging of the pejorative "politician" would've amounted to nothing less than a smear and a personal affront. It used to be a dirty word -- no longer.

These days however, with globalization breaking down the barriers of civility and formality between mothers and daughters, between friends, between politicians, between the governed and those who govern; it seems barriers forming bulwarks of civil society are continually being eroded by a general lack of courtesy and observation of civil boundaries.

Twenty Tuesday's from now, elections will be held in this country to see whether an ill-spoken backwards non-progressive warmongering would've-been-a-farmer from Texas who achieved office by theft and who got that far solely on his father's name, wins, or someone in the person of John Kerry, the exact opposite in every sense, wins. Anyone with a modicum of economic sense and a shred of forward-thinking political philosophy would have honest and serious reservations about another four years of "service" by the current occupant of the White House. George W. Bush, through his global war-making and geo-political meddling has destroyed the very peace he sought to engender in the world, he squandered and wasted post-9/11 goodwill and has made America unsafe, not to even speak of the rest of the world.

In reality, he's no man of peace, no Republican really, deep down, truly is.

The subtle tapestry of nuance and respect that national and international diplomacy is predicated upon has been torn by a boot-wearing boor from a state that has no qualms about not only executing people, but executing the mentally retarded, as well. Any man who governs a state like that, for the number of years he has, surely, is no man of peace. Fomenting death does not breed peace, however this is precisely the dogma governing Republican thought domestically, and abroad.

The notion of "killing for peace" sums up nicely the history of modern conservatism, both in philosophy and in action. Conservatism at its most temperate, is isolationist and only harbors a mild resentment of opposing political philosophies, and at its most active harbors rampant racism, violent fascist thinking and bitter anti-Semitism. The precept of "killing for peace" governs policies like the death penalty of Texas which has done nothing to reduce the crime rate but has only made criminals more dangerous in their intention of not being caught or killing as many as possible before they do get caught. This same precept has been embodied in action overseas, in Iraq and Afghanistan.

By destroying and ravaging, in creating stooge puppet rulers and buying representatives on sham councils and Loya Jirgas, a vacuum of political legitimacy has been created and much like in Texas, as a result, those who seek to evade the law and enage in law-breaking, will become ever more violent in their evasion. In the past month, there have been seventeen carbombings in Baghdad. Count them, 17 -- 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 14... That's a big number. You won't hear that on any conservative propaganda email "forwards," assuredly not.

What's the violence due to? The violence that came before it. The violence brought by the US in its recklessness, flagrant violations of international law and pariah behavior, shooting up mosques and torturing people. That's not how you make friends. That's how you make suicide bombers. The Republican precept which was spoken of earlier, "killing for peace" has been transplanted overseas. Those regions are now reacting by way of resistance, dooming American efforts to failure as a result and demoralizing US Occupation forces with each bombing and shooting, in other words, with each passing day.

You can guage the level of lost morale on the part of conservatives by quite simply guaging the number of email propaganda "forwards" that are sent around lying about the war, sent often by so-called "Christians." The more they send, the more they show of their own desperation to lie and put a good face on the losing wars their president has waged and is waging. Just yesterday in Afghanistan there was an exchange of fire in Kabul via rockets between two warlords. Kabul, is the capital of Afghanistan, quite brazen isn't it? Not that I'm saying this is a good thing -- but this wouldn't be going on under the Taliban. This just happens as today, as I sit shitting in the bathroom with the TV volume turned up, that I hear Bush and Karzai rambling as they often do together about the peace in both Iraq and Afghanistan and their continuing relationship.

Yes, peace in the form of seventeen carbombings in one month, this month, in Iraq, and a goddamned rocket-firefight breaking out in a capital of a country, Afghanistan, just yesterday. Not just that, but a convoy was just attacked in Baghdad near their international airport, that and the fact that about 11 to 17 Chinese were killed a week or two ago in Afghanistan by militants. Yes, peace is just blossoming everywhere. Who do we have to thank for a botched invasion? George W. Bush. Who do we have to thank for squandering global goodwill post-9/11? Geroge W. Bush. Who do we have to thank for the worsening situation in Afghanistan? Well, I think I've made my point.

History will come back to haunt us, as just this week a Somali was caught plotting to blow up a major mall in Ohio. A Somali? Gee, ring a bell? Black Hawk Down? Hello? The US probably killed his whole family when the US botched the operation in Somalia to nab Aided (we never got Aidid, by the way, suprise surprise) and now this Somali is in the US attempting to blow up a mall.

Causality, conservatives -- wrap your small and feeble brains around the concept.

The Iraqi orphans of today will be the terrorists of tomorrow, once they find out just what country's stray missile was responsible for blowing up the market his mom was in or what mosque the US blew up who this kid's dad was in, he, too, will come back for his revenge. Just like in Somalia, and just like this Somali in Ohio -- history is made flesh by the actions of nations. Don't forget that.

It seems where I live (Orange County, CA) the majority conservative population sees itself as having a monopoly on hate, "badass-ness," and violence. These same people, who have never been stabbed (unfortunately,) bombed (unfortunately,) or shot at from helicopters (unfortunately) think they have a monopoly, on hate. I only say unfortunately parenthetically, as it would be a nice eye-opener for some people I know. Some people, who think they know me. Those who think that the world begins and ends with the borders of this mere county and its trivial little cities, and who believe their savior was probably a white man from Orange County.

People here vote for tyrants who behave like lunatics overseas and domestically, all the while people here live lives in a bubble of beemers and soccer practice. A perfect, indestructable bubble of wealth and ignorance, how precious, how quaint.

Conducting a global assessment is a sad business. Come June 30th, power has to be handed over to the governing council in Iraq amidst massive bombings, lootings and assassinations -- gee, this is going to be interesting. While in Afghanistan, Hamid Karzai the president of rinky-dinky Afghanistan is affectionately referred to as the mayor of Kabul. You see, you can be affectionate to your enemy, especially when they're just so... truly... weak. His enemies almost love him, he amuses them.

Karzai is like a wounded puppy who's lost his way and requires the American leash around his neck to keep him on course lest his country consume its runway model president; he sports quite fashionable turbans whenever he goes to his jirgas.

Dirty money, runs the world. Not peace, not joy, not global human love towards his fellow man. No, dirty money, usually drug money is what runs the global economy. Afghanistan boasts, quite correctly, of being responsible for putting 90% of the heroin available on European streets, into European hands. The economy's GDP is 90 percent based on the production, refinement and transport of a simple little plant -- the resilient opium poppy, more resilient than the marijuana plant, mind you. The Taliban atleast came very close to terminating all opium production, since their removal from power, the amount of opium grown and leaving the country has skyrocketed to 1994 levels.

Atleast the Taliban did something right, if only one thing. Yet the region as a whole is going to hell, and most of the world would rather close its eyes and pretend as though it doesn't exist, writing hollow treaties and blithely driving beemers. That's all fine and dandy, until a mushroom cloud goes up over an American or European city. Then maybe things will change, then again, maybe not.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, June 15, 2004 at 09:12 a.m.

I've narrowed down the number graduate schools I'll be applying to, down to three. Their identities will remain anonymous lest some former enemy of yours truly (or an enemy I'm currently in the process of making) decides to call them and let them know I'm a bad person. None are UC's, I'm tired of mass-education. I've had fourteen years of it, culminating at UC Berkeley. Ugh, spasms. Of the three, only one is overseas. Now that the process of culling the herd has been taken care of, now the matter of getting in remains to be addressed. Joy. Did some work around the house, got rid of old sod, placed new sod in slots to keep the dog happy, and my lady happy more importantly. Even though she doesn't use the sod. She might. If she ever did, we might have to sit down and have a heart to heart, I think. I'm tweaked-pissed, damnit. You'd think they'd shut the fuck up about that bastard Reagan by now, they flap their mouths off about him like the bag is still breathing and giving the world happygasms. Please. He's dead, thank death for snatching his little cooz up and grinding the life out of him. No, I'm not angry. Not at all. Oh, why's this knife in my hand? I have no clue.

posted by qalam on Thursday, June 10, 2004 at 10:54 a.m.

Another decrepit, vile old person died yesterday. They dragged his aged dead flesh by way of hearse throughout Santa Monica today and come noon his rotting corpse will be on public display for a short while for tools and other assorted delusional persons to pay homage to an icon of their economic enslavement and political disenfranchisement. He is not worthy of the respect adorned him, he threatened the safety of the world by waging an arms race with a foe whose stature and structure was already collapsing. He was cavalier and not a classical statesman. Those who worship him, unknowingly or knowingly worship the cult of personality he created in his wake, and do not worship his office letalone acknowledge the economic harm he brought to the country through his deficit spending. Any man who wants to be president, who seeks it and yearns for its reins to be stretched in his hands, ipso facto, should be denied that goal and should have that aim stifled and crushed by the reason of moral society and the integrity of character of peace-loving people. He was a cowboy in every sense, and despite all those who thought and continue to think he was god's gift to man, he was still a meager man who threatened the peace of the world for arbitrary reasons, and for that alone, is unworthy of the homage and respect those who dote upon him deliver. He is dead, and the world is better for it. Bush II is different in only one respect -- he still draws breath. Bush, like almost every Republican before him has seamlessly fitted the profile of warmonger, cowboy and global threat, and in that vein, one should not raise a glass to the memory of such people, alive or dead -- but rather a fist full of ire and regret. May the place of such people in hell be secured, their torments vile and their nightmares made true.

posted by qalam on Monday, June 7, 2004 at 11:11 a.m.

Tenet did the smartest thing he could ever do, the man resigned. Ofcourse, it seems obvious to any person fluent in the language of political duress, that he really, despite appearances -- had no choice. He did what he did because the president needed to save face and to make it seem that someone, if only "one," would resign as the cacophony of voices calling for resignations grew to a roar. He gave a well-mannered and canned reason for his resignation: "Personal family reasons." That's the kind of generic answer that is a by-word for something other than "personal family reasons" being the impetus behind an action. It's like being in an argument with an impassioned woman who resents hearing the word "fine" in response to queries aimed gleaning whether her ass looks hot in a tight black dress-skirt. "Fine," much like "Personal family reasons," means, "Something else is on my mind, and what I'm saying has nothing to do with the reality of the situation or what I really think." Anyone with a sense of political realities, knows that this is precisely the message the former CIA director wanted to send. I got the message, and I'm sure you, ever-perceptive reader, got that message too. Ofcourse, I subscribe to the view that he should've resigned, but much like an un-named Senator from California, I am also of the view that the resigntions shouldn't have stopped there. I believe Cheney, Bush, Rumsfeld, Richard Perle, Wolfowitz and all those responsible for not seeing 9-11 coming or are either directly or indirectly responsibly for the botched up situations in Iraq, should be made to resign, or be summarily fired (executed, if I ran the world). Another issue that irks me, thus -- Tom Brokaw's ramblings. He views the generation that fought in WWII to be "The Greatest Generation." This is fiction; a pure falsehood. That generation fought in a herioc and pitched struggle against evil and tyranny, but so would have any other generation upon whose soldiers fell such a noble yet grave challenge and responsibility -- the preservation of democracy and the extirpation of evil. I propose that this generation be re-named "The Great Generation," in lieu of the destested other title assigned. The greatest generation is a title that should be handed down to any generation that has done something more substantive and productive than merely fight a foreign war. This "greatest" generation is also the generation that allowed not only atomic weapons to be invented, but used. Used not merely once, but twice. For that reason alone, I feel the worthy appelation and title of "The greatest Generation" should be withdrawn. It also seems the esteemed darling of the Pentagon Ahmed Chalabi, or "Another Alibi," as he's referred to in policy circles, has shown his true face. Surprise surprise, it's a countenance that revolts the guts of whores. He's informed the Iranians that the Americans, through NSA have cracked key Iranian intelligence codes and ciphers which have thereby allowed the US to tap and extensively monitor the diplomatic cable traffic of Iran, globally. The Iranians didn't believe him at first, and who knows if they do now. The CIA, excercising in this instance the only good judgement it seems the agency ever had and therefore has now depeleted it, didn't trust Chalabi from the outset; the State Department never trusted him either. The Pentagon couldn't however help itself from guzzling down fifteen helpings of Chalabi's semen and only now, after having lost all face in the matter, is slowly repudiating the filthy embezzler and fraudster. The man's home was also raided by Iraqi National Police only months ago, I think that's when the message was sent to Pentagon day-dreamers and Zionists that the Iraqi people, maybe, just maybe, might not think the guy to be all apple pie. Any rate, they're dumbasses all around who have robbed the world of safety into the foreseeable future, I think all of them should be rounded up, anally violated, shot, then dragged to Sadr city as a gift to the Shia.

posted by qalam on Friday, June 4, 2004 at 05:39 p.m.

After much arm-twisting, letter-writing and general ass-kissing, the embassy of Afghanistan has granted me a passport (by mail). With my fucking luck it'll be the most torn up and shredded piece of offal that paper has ever eroded into, surely. The "War on Terrorism" continues to plummet deeper into the depths of folly, bombings and attempted assassinations are on the rise. The Magical Deadline for turn-over of sovereignty -- June 30th -- is nigh approaching and the bete noire of the US administration, "terrorists," seem only more willing and audacious to form the thorn in the ass of American endeavors. I'm incredibly relieved to finally know that those embassy folks relented, however I fear something will remain amiss all throughout my planning and efforts to make things predictable in light of what poses to be a very complicated and logistically near-untenable trip. Baggage might be lost, what to do with the dog and cat (A's folks?) and the certainty of political horror and bureaucracy which will surely unfold when I try to get the Egyptians and French to stamp a visa onto my passport.

"Wait, you are Afghan, mon ami? Really? Do you do terrorism in France, yes no? If yes, no no no!"

...meanwhile --

"Wait! Monsieur Charge D'Affairs, before you go lunch, there is some Afghan character up front who needs a visa stamped, what shall we do??? He might start talking in that strange Spanish and try to blow up our beautiful embazzee!!"

Moving along, I thought of taking Summer classes, but since I'll be out in two years (three semesters, really) what's the rush after all. I have to begin in earnest to study GRE test prep material, as it's the most critical deciding factor in graduate admissions aside from my alluringly charming personal charisma and disarmingly befriending disposition which trickles from my posts like sweet honey, you agree -- ofcourse. Not too long ago I found my admissions essay for Amherst College sitting and smoking a Red on my computer, and I think I'll cannibalize that and use it to form the backbone of my graduate admissions statement, how dash-cunning of me. For some reason my thoughts as of late have been random and incoherent, as I write this I just recalled, for no reason really, that the oldest person alive died recently at the age of 114. And now, an excursion into the lurid: I wondered if her labial lips (cooz flaps, really, don't kid yourself) swung in the wind like sails amid lofting breezes from colder Northern waters. Wide apart they barely had to stretch over her many long years I'm sure, as they easily, queeflessly engulfed whole streams of frigid air current, flapping in the wind, sailing the ship of men she's had in past years into seas of STDs as she no doubt did. Don't talk me into buying some line about her being clean. You don't live 114 years and not catch *something*. Perhaps what contributed to her unnaturally long span of life were her stong vaginal muscles. As she aged, no doubt her flaps unceasingly and steadily sagged down to the floor like an opened parachute on the ground. Catching nothing but wind resistance and grass with every step she took. She ofcourse before she died, many years prior in fact, surely without any doubt was able to clap her flaps together as though they were hands applauding an excellent performance of Gotterdamerung at the NY Phil. You see, this all lends credence to my nascent thesis that after performing multitudes of Kegel crunches and contractions that the female lifespan would thereby extend by a factor of years. Nothing really supports this thesis factually, empirically, anecdotally or scientifically beyond my deep-seated view that somehow there is a demonic however natural and deeply hidden correlation and causation between Kegels and long lifespans in women. There can be no rational doubt in my view that despite lacking a scientific framework from within with to formulate theories and concepts, this thesis is valid and applies to every living woman. At the ripe age of 114, she no doubt by and through mere caprice could lift both of her flaps into the air -- all the while sitting -- and shape them into shadow caricatures of both design and complexity that hitherto even two hands have never been able to achieve, letalone a woman's flaps. She was probably able to pull off such miracles as "flying geese," "the dog barking" and even perhaps more importantly, was able to use her preternatural flappal (a neologism of mine) skills to levitate herself like a Yogic master. Using her two flaps to hold herself dozens of feet high in the air (and perhaps even walk using them?) like Bruce Lee's famous two-finger pushups... I can't imagine how they buried her. I mean, with such muscular development, it might've been nigh impossible to keep the lid nailed to the coffin due to such hugely muscular flaps, morticians or whomever might've actually had to slash them off and bury them seperately in order to bury the woman.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, June 1, 2004 at 12:38 p.m.

Hamas has just won a media victory as after threatening Western pop whore Madonna and her cum-guzzling family with death. After Hamas issued the threat, three days ago, yesterday Madonna's PR people informed BBC that she cancelled all three Israeli performances, due to the threat. If I could only overstate how happy I am to hear about this. As the Hamas threat stated "... she represents everything vile and corrupt about the world..." Needless to say, I couldn't agree more -- even if I tried. Poor ole Kabbalah cultist, can't play in da howlee lands.

posted by qalam on Monday, May 24, 2004 at 12:31 p.m.

Well the cat has been found. Some neighbors of poopy found the animal and let me tell you, I'm just overjoyed. Yes... simply overjoyed. She's back.







... joy.

posted by qalam on Thursday, May 20, 2004 at 05:57 p.m.

Studying for a final -- Eastern European History. No joy in it. Had a falling out with the asian room-mate. Apparently he hates the music I listen to, I told him I have a final tonight going through x to y o'clock, and if any of my shit got damaged or stolen, I'd take it out on his Mexican fuckbuddy's belongings. You'd be surprised the damage a swinging maglite can cause if used with enough gusto. I'm surrounded by ill-bred children, it's truly a curse only god himself could've conjured and spat upon me. At any rate, the Asian is packing up and leaving tonight, and it's not soon enough in my humble opinion. All I have is a rather long maglite up here, but good sense prevents me from bringing my .45 up here, and... I'd don't know... shooting him with it, right in his bony dog-eating ass, fucking cocksucker. Drama aside, the final I had this morning was fearsomely put down to the tune of an "A." Seeing as Summer is approaching, I'll be busying myself with other things, so postings will become more and more sporadic. I'll have to take the GRE over summer, as well; I believe that's another one of god's curses, along with locusts, and the state of Israel.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, May 19, 2004 at 12:55 p.m.

Dovetailing off of my lady's acutely sage remark regarding karmic balance and counter-balance, she nicely explains some of my behavior. Essentially, if something good happens, something bad must happen. Let me disclose an aspect of my personal behavior -- I only do evil. Why? Because doing good involves more time, effort and doesn't require creativity, whereas evil does. This is why I always feel so good afterwards -- the universe is karmically adding positive energy into my soul and thinking to counter-balance the evil I summon through my sinister mind and unleash into the world.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, May 18, 2004 at 11:37 a.m.

Just finished an essay that has to be turned into Barrows before 4pm, seven pages of which I had to spend an hour, only on each question. Three questions -- highly abstract. It was not fun and there was no joy in it, dry, reading. So dry, in fact, that you could take my paper, drop it in the middle of the rain forest, and you would cause a brush fire. On the international front, al-Rashid Brigades have claimed a heroic victory in battle against the Occupation Forces. Via carbomb yesterday, they managed to successfully assassinate the head of the Iraqi Governing Council, Ezzidine Salim. There were traces of Sarin detected by the US army afer the blast leaving one to conclude the IED was part of possibly an old chemical warhead. Nonetheless, a blow has been struck against a body of mercenaries and traitors and should they all perish in the same fashion, then I believe a bottle of '52 Petruse should be opened.

posted by qalam on Monday, May 17, 2004 at 10:52 a.m.

I despise that blasted filthy cat my poopy has due to the little fact that it freely pissed on a shirt and my backpack, both of which were later washed. Sure, poopyland might accuse me of closing the door to the bathroom thus blocking her access to her litter box, none of that abates the fault or guilt on the head of that little shit cat which expelled its most vile fluid upon what I wear and tote. That's why I'm so happy that my poopyland got a dog. A puppy, not a Nazi attack dog, but a chiwawa, however that's spelled -- to complement the ambiance and since that cat of hers is a menace to peace and love on this earth, the dog must bring back what that cat destroyed -- joy. It's no bigger than poopyland's hand, this puppy, and I would love nothing better than to troll for skank with the puppy in my pocket showing her, one by one, what not to be when she groes up.

posted by qalam on Saturday, May 15, 2004 at 10:04 p.m.

Just got out of the shower. Stayed in for far too long under the burning yet somehow extremely pleasureable raining fire. I'm a shriveled up brown prune at the moment, and I can feel the openness of my pores over my whole body emitting tiny farts of joy...

posted by qalam on Saturday, May 15, 2004 at 09:23 a.m.

It took about five minutes to remove it. Nick Berg's head, that is. For those of you thinking I was introducing a post having to do with a potty session gone horribly awry, I'm terribly sorry to disappoint. After a lengthy denunciation of Kofi Annan, the idiot and imbecile "Gen. Abizaid," and Occupation forces, they went about the business of, allow my tasteless diction -- hacking, yanking and sawing off his head. In my view, he was most certainly a spy. Not just that, oh no, but to sprinkle needed justice upon his death, something truly worthy of execution -- he was also a Republican and a Bush supporter. Now that, I believe irrefutably and unquestionably causes one to involuntarily forfeit one's status as a human being. In the end, the spy met his end as he should have, albeit a tad brutal -- however deserved. The good lady and I obviously came to loggerheads over the issue of his guilt and what should've been done with him. I, surprise surprise, was all in favor of what fate befell him. She however felt he should be at the most, kept as a prisoner of war. Being the horrible and disgusting person I am, I went about seeking the execution video and saving it on my computer for future leisurely viewing entertainment. I was considering perfecting my falsetto by mimicking his girlish screams and feel that one can only truly perfect a singing voice by attempting to simulate such noises -- as they are the most genuine. No doubt, Julliard agrees with me. Furthermore, I heartily propose the video of poor Nick having a truly bad day be used as a natural remedy to any possible male bladder incontinence or erectile dysfunction. No doubt writing all of this, how I feel et cetera, will arouse a certain ill will towards me. I welcome it, verily those who wish harm upon me, I wish the fate of Nick the Spy -- upon them. At any rate, my first final is tomorrow -- processes of revolutionary synthesis elucidated through the framework of neo-Marxism and Skocpol's work on the issue. Not to mention the naming, defining and explication of ten historical key terms having to do with the aforementioned. Joy of joys...

posted by qalam on Thursday, May 13, 2004 at 08:56 p.m.

I blame white bread. Oh god, was today's shit a real attempt on my life. The Chechen president who was pro-Russian that was blown up last week because of an IED embedded in a cement strut going off near his podium -- got off way too easily. He was killed, you see. I nearly pondered defenestration upon sensing the tremendous weight pushing down my anus. I mean, it was bad. I should've chose the option of defenstration with shit trailing out of my ass, but I didn't. It would've been easier than shitting out what I had to shit out. Oh boy, would it have been [insert your favorite integer and square it] times easier to just pick door number two. This load, ladies cover your eyes and have your men read this to you -- was veritably monstrous. A hydra almost, imagine a shit seven-headed with claws and a tail longer and thicker than most black men's mandingos. Oh yes, it was like being anally raped, but in reverse. I would've rather taken an anal raping in contrast to what I pushed out. While perched upon the toilet, as I was less than fifteen minutues ago, the floor darling posted a paper on the stall door reading "Raise you hands those of you who like to see terds [sic]. No. (I was approached by the cleaning people to write to have more people flush. How embarassing...)" Yes, these joyous words were my company, on pink paper no less, as the shit-demon tore and wormed, twisting and stretching my already weary and unraveled anus and intestines. It was as though she had a mood about her. Angry, yet patiently waiting to thrust her head out of my anal birth canal at my most vulnerable moment. I, thoroughly and extremely unprepared, felt a shift in my intestines. Surely, it began as a shift but then the pressure squirmed and intensified. I finally knew I had met my match, and we were preparing to do battle, a final one at that, on the parched, barren, burnt (my lady can attest in legal written form to this) landscape of my lower intestine and anus. She moved, I cowered. Crouching into a ball as I stay put, perched upon the toilet wondering at the thought of what awaited me. She moved again, I in counter-move grimaced, opening my mouth ever so slightly almost as if to say "Oh mother, where are you?" She paused in her movement forward and then for a while things returned to a tense calm. We both knew of each other's plans. She wanted to come out forcefully and kill me in the process, I wanted to have her come out, surely, but not die a torn man in the process; when I say "torn," I mean found rectally bleeding with old semen and ripped connective tissue hanging out of me, as I lay dead on the piss-stained tile floor. You know, torn -- like that. About five minutes later, as I was done marvelling at the grammar, tense, theme and font of the notice to us students to flush after shitting, I felt an offensive building inside me. She was amassing her will, her forces and all allied turds, for a final frontal, rather, anal assault. She wanted freedom, and so did I. How our wills and wishes intertwined in the height of perverse pleasure and mutual loathing. She began pushing forward, inches forward -- creeping forward -- and stretched wide my already broken and demoralized anus which then screamed "Oh gods, surely this unjust fate warrants a quick death!!!" and she came out, head at first. It was a glorious birth, as I hunched over looking inward into the bowl, she had her mother's eyes. My eyes gleaming, I was a father. My fists, both clenched in writhing agony yet I dared not show such tremors shaking me before my newborn. She pushed out of me still further and moments later in a gut-wrenching cascade of rolling intestinal contraction all of her demonic brown glory slopped out of me and splashed into the bowl, it was as though she were Shamu returning with a splash upon having performed a trick. Her tail splashed a yellow spray of joy across my lips as it sliced into the water and floated calmly -- shivering somewhat. I tried to catch a falling drop with my lower lip yet failed, I had only the warm wetness to savor across my lips and cheek, alas. As I passed her, I looked upward and saw the glory of God. My face shone as my ass tore wider, wider, giving the porcelain goddess my most blessed sacrifice. My eyes shot upward, glancing, narrowed and pierced into the heavens as my throat echoed in sound the words in my heart -- I wailed -- "Oh joy! Let, let.. let it be!!!"

posted by qalam on Tuesday, May 11, 2004 at 07:55 p.m.

Things are getting rather hectic. Preparations are being made for Summer -- interning or if not that at least some job doing something for some pay (selling my mouth if I goddamned have to). Finals up here are gearing up, review sessions are being held by GSIs already and my first final is this Friday (you know, in four effing days,) which I suppose is a good thing. It gives me Saturday and Sunday to prepare for three other finals to be dealt with next week. I'm already concerned about next week, and it's only Monday.

posted by qalam on Monday, May 10, 2004 at 05:10 p.m.

Things were going so well this morning, I shared carnal intimacy with poopyland and went on all fours, like a hook nosed member of Amsterdam's diamond trading community that just dropped a rock. I started shuffling on the floor properly fitting the straps of highheels through their latches around the ankle of my poopyland -- which she later decided that in her infinite wisdom didn't suit the ocassion -- and so I took them off, undoing the straps and so forth. Me? Bitching? I'm sorry, you must have me confused with the owner of Qalam al-Yaqeen, I'm just the person who writes on the site. Well, all of this is leading up to what I'm getting at. So my poopy has arrangements to go to some party for her grandmother, all good and well, fine and dandy, and I escort her out in my typically paranoid style -- with a .45 bulging my pocket, black handle with clip showing somewhat. After seating her and exchanging pleasantries and casual concerns ("Get there alive," followed by "I hope the car doesn't hit a mine.") and polite smiles, I asked if poopyland's mother would care to have an item in the footspace of the passenger-seat area to be placed in the boot of the car. She acquiesced and I played my role of "person trying to be nice so you don't hate him for having sex with your daughter, even though he's the wily savage Islamic enemy." I then went about opening the boot and imagine my earth-shattering visage exuding galaxy-colliding shock when I chanced to glance upon a rather attractive looking book that bore the rather inelegant title "The Dark Side of Islam." I mean truly, her parents feeling a lack of sympathy for Islam? Imagine my naive bewilderment. I naturally felt my anus pucker in terrified self-defense thinking I was about to be pounced upon by an army of people who, suffice to say, at a minimum reach orgasmic climax thrice while seeing the Passion. Then I felt a bulge in my pants, thinking it was my hugantic organ I soon realized that it didn't have smooth black metal grips -- alas, my seven-round loaded one-chambered 1911 .45 in my pocket that I walked out with-- I calmly began to relax. I later found that RC Sproul and a pseudonymous Abdul Saleeb authored the book. No doubt one is a Christian Islam-hater and the latter a confused self-hating convert to Christianity. Well, while everyone these days thinks that Islam is the source of all demonic and satanic evil, I offer a rather opening book myself -- The Dark Side of Christian History

posted by qalam on Saturday, May 8, 2004 at 11:44 a.m.

I swear to God, Afghans have to be the dumbest, ignorant, rudest and most opportunistic people on the face of the Earth, and I'm goddamned ashamed to have been born into their family and raised as one of them. Goddamned shamefully stupid. I mean, there is a point when a bunch of people collectively are so stupid that it literally becomes measureable in terms of shame. It really does. I only wish that the twin towers were filled with Afghans instead of innocent people as those planes went rip roaring tearing into them. I would've stood on ground level taking shots at people trying to jump off, with my .45 screaming "Oh no you fucking whores, no getting off that easy..." If someone nuked Afghanistan tomorrow they'd earn my vote in Nov. '04.

posted by qalam on Friday, May 7, 2004 at 10:04 a.m.

Finals are approaching -- what tremors of joy I feel. David Horowitz spoke on campus not too long ago, as I walked by I was glad to see that the keffiyeh-clad Palestinian-flag waivers and sidewalk guerrillas greatly outnumbered the trash and human scum supporting Israel. Only wish he were close enough to the Anti-Zionist crowd, if he were he would've been given, no doubt, a beating worthy of Hezbollah's praise.

posted by qalam on Thursday, May 6, 2004 at 06:20 p.m.

Poopy just called me wondering if I still love her even though her cheek is poofy. Adorable. Just adorable...

posted by qalam on Wednesday, May 5, 2004 at 10:28 p.m.

After further contemplation and without any pressure or coercion from my girlfriend whatsoever, I formally apologize for the statements I've made regarding flags being draped and the suffering of mothers of US soldiers. It was deeply irresponsible, cruel, unusual, and punishing, ignorant and just plain not nice, maybe even downright mean and uncivil, and even quite possibly hurtful, but who am I to pass judgements... I mean, don't let the arabic, the Hezbollah logo or the spinning RPG on the top of this site fool you, I love American soldiers and whomever they accidentally hurt or manage to kill to the tune of thousands of innocent dead, is jolly right good and fine by me.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, May 5, 2004 at 11:11 a.m.

I'm a bad person. I'm very mean spirited too. And dare I say, I have a tinge of evil in me (Ever so light, but a tinge nonetheless.) My lady told me how disgusting, "inappropriate," (classroom, anyone? It's a blog, there is no such thing as propriety unless I define it) and offensive she found the post below, something about having to do with wishing death on people and being vile and so forth. Well, I won't apologize for the post since we have the luxury of being offended since bombs aren't dropping on *our* heads, but for all the innocent Iraqis who died (by torture, for example) because of American cavalier attitudes towards war and the distinct lack of professionalism the US Army exudes and embodies, I vented my bitterness and disgust in my last post, rightly so, perhaps I don't have the right to be angry for fear of offending people even though thousands have died, even someone I dearly love, but I will add that for my lady, since she was terribly offended by it, I offer my apologies to her, and only her. Now surely, perhaps I don't have "the right" to get angry in my own personal space of leisurely writing because we live in a world where angry people are seen as insane, but the reasons for their anger are ignored, gee, thousands have died for no reason, who were innocent, who am I to be "angry"? If anyone else thinks it was simply evil, too harsh, et cetera, I offer a genuine and most heartfelt "Die, cunt," to all of you unsavory folks, as I'm sure it's something all the dead Iraqis who were innocent would surely love to tell the people of a country who had no problem whatsoever sending their army half way around the world to cripple the healthy, blind those who could see, disable those who once could walk and kill those who once drew breath, just so a few of their hick soldiers could get off since fucking their own sisters was getting a little too mundane. A genuine "Fuck you, whores" to all those shit-ignorant hicktard Bush supporters who no doubt by this part of the war have dissolved their posters of Dubya from repeated masturbation, and whose stupidity and lack of awareness of global realities and conditions allowed their own army for no reason other than an allegation of "Saddam tried to kill my daddy." or sheer boredom, to end the lives of innocent thousands. If a "fuck you shitsmear," is all you get from me, for being responsible implicitly for the death of thousands who had nothing to do with 9/11, then you're getting off light. I'm sorry, perhaps this post doesn't sound as apologetic as I meant it to, since I'm not all that apologetic, at all. You know, the reality of thousands dead for no reason has a sombering effect on one. Sure, I'll apologize to one person, my angelness, and feel genuine sorrow for her offence. But it should be what brought about this whole scenario that's worthy of true examination. Now, maybe it was an overreaction on my part, but since this is my own writing, I enjoy the occasional overreaction. If you don't like it, sit on my dick.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, May 5, 2004 at 09:52 a.m.

I hope all the cunts who supported the "liberation" of Iraq (which only serves American imperialist religious designs on the Middle East by removing an enemy of Israel and was a massive oil grab,) take a long hard look at their cowardly cunt hick soldiers who make up the US "Army" which is a joke as far as skill and professionalism are concerned. The Americans wanted a face of liberation, they found it by looking at the faces of those they tortured at Abu Ghraib. May Iran rise like a Phoenix from ashes and obliterate Israel for her agitation in having their puppets, the US, pursue this war of religion and oil. Hick cunts. For such violations of international law, all American soldiers will deal with a heightened level of hatred and militancy against them. May the shahideem of the moqawama who detonate themselves in the face of cowardly American soldiers and amateur torturers feel the wrath of true men, true soldiers, and true martyrs. Long live the resistance. May the number of American flags drapped over coffins and given to mothers increase triple-fold for these heinous acts of humiliation, and may their families be made to incur a terrible suffering.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, May 4, 2004 at 05:29 p.m.

Cinco de Mayo celebrations are gearing up as tonight over a dozen Hispanic residents of San Jose, notably enthused celebrants, were arrested for various infractions ranging from being drunk in public to more serious offenses. Cinco de Mayo marks the battle of Pueblo in the 1800's where the Mexicans defeated a well-armed and organized (gasp) French garrison. I don't know about the rest of you, but the French losing a military battle against a vastly less organized and under-armed adversary, is news to me. At any rate, an old quote comes to mind that fits the jovial tide washing over me as I write this: "Having the French support you in battle is like going hunting with an accordian player." Viva la Mexico, viva la mango juice...

posted by qalam on Sunday, May 2, 2004 at 10:12 p.m.

Today marks a historic date in the theatre of European political and economic affairs. May 1st, today, heralded the welcoming of many new member states to the EU: Cyprus, the Czech Republic, Estonia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Malta, Poland, Slovakia and Slovenia at midnight. Celebrations were held throughout the continent and many commentators noted it as marking an event as important as the creation of empires. With these recent additions to the Union, the expansion to twenty-five nations makes the Union the world's biggest trading bloc. All of this however comes with many stipulations on the part of the new memebers, one of the most clear being that an economic migration block has been put in to place lasting up to seven years to prevent a new mass influx of cheap skilled workers willing to work for 1/6th of the current average European wage, from crossing borders into West Europe taking jobs from the nationals of those countries. This was a major proviso in the eighty-eight thousand page document of requirements that these new nations had to comply and operate within the limits of for consideration as future members. The spirit of this stipulation was less Western-centric and reactionary and had more to do with creating viable institutions within that time frame so that E. Europeans would feel less compelled to migrate Westward at the end of the seven years. Those seven years, by the way, are re-newable, on the off-chance these new states behave, well, like East Europeans.

posted by qalam on Saturday, May 1, 2004 at 12:19 p.m.

I finally succeeded in getting a kick out of fucking with my Christian fundy girlfriend whom I love -- hence the conversation online:

Poopyland: :-D
Me: I found Jesus.
Me: I swear.
poopyland: yeah?
Me: I'm Christian now.
Poopyland: uh-huh
Me: Believe it.
Poopyland: yeah, sure, baby
Me: I'm serious.
Poopyland: baby, don't fuck with me about jesus
Me: I'm deadly serious.
Poopyland: Really? Why don't you tell me then, HOW you found Jesus.
Me: I was thinking about the questions of atheism
and I realized that they're not really up to par with
disounting the miracles Jesus performed as they're
historically recorded. I felt it would be better to
live my life in faith than in a continual
self-questioning about my disbelief.

For a good while she bought it, then she finally called me sounding hysterically unstable and with a high-pitched voice asserted "Don't fuck with me about Jesus!" in a half-comical way, while breathing hard. I tried to carry on the charade yet ultimately found myself having to admit upon being pressed, that I had, indeed, fucked with her. Thoroughly enjoyable it was... I don't know why I decided to do it but it struck me as an amusing-enough idea... jesus, indeed, I sure had her going. Ahh, the joys of put-ons. 'Tis truly an un-ending fountain of humor in which I shall often splash around.

posted by qalam on Friday, April 30, 2004 at 08:19 p.m.

I think those of us who live in Berkeley are priveledged to have some of the nicest bums around. Unlike thuggish LA bums, ours kindly ask for change or a bite of your sandwich. No such courtesy shown by LA or OC bums. None. I personally however think OC transports their bums to Berkeley or Santa Ana. Santa Ana bums, whom during my days at the local college were so dirty and battered they wouldn't even look at you as you passed by. Sure, you might not have given them change but it would've been nice of them to look, hope and believe you might have given them something.

posted by qalam on Friday, April 30, 2004 at 02:39 p.m.

As I write this I happily note that the daytime heat-wave has passed through its most intense period -- one result being cooler night-time temperatures, an open window is next to me and a breeze just passed over my toes ::happy sensations::. For one day as I recall, the temperature broke ninety-degrees Fahrenheit. During the thoroughly unpleasant heat I fell asleep one night listening to the Red Army Choir playing O Fortuna and Dubinushka in my head -- manifestations of a heat-tortured mind, beginning to crack. Normally, as my mind begins to rest, it recounts the motions of sheep jumping over a wooden picket fence. It was disturbing to say the least at having wraith-like voices singing choir music in the middle of the night, as I was all alone, in my head ::mopes::. Earlier in the day a roomie walked in and passed out on his bed, I noted a distinctly irksome behavior. As he lay there -- he bagan snoring; not merely snoring it seemed, but also upon the exhalation of each breath it sounded as though he were regurgitating an organ and then inhaling it again -- over, and over... and over again. A harsh sound, I thought he died once he stopped snoring, as the thought crossed my mind, a smile crossed my face. To my disappointment, a few minutes later he abrubtly rose up and left the room, backpack in tote. Wishes, dashed.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, April 28, 2004 at 09:57 p.m.

The world of vexillology is often filled with heated debate, but yesterday these opinionated folks reached a nearly universal consensus on one issue: Things are looking pretty ugly in Iraq. Flag aficionados, properly known as vexillologists, were abuzz with the re-designing of the Iraqi national flag. The new banner, dominated by a light-blue crescent on a white background, was received with confusion and skepticism on the streets of Baghdad yesterday. It was unveiled with little advance warning. In my view, it's a shitty flag. The Kurds wanted more of their identity imbued onto the flag as the horizontal yellow line didn't do justice to their desires. The flag was designed in London, which has only added a new dimension of social conflagration to this whole debacle. One expert said about the flag:

"This is not a good flag," said David Martucci, president of the North American Vexillological Association. "I think most people in this community agree on that."

White and blue have never been Arab colours, and are best known as the colours of that illegitimate pile of excrement -- Israel. The new Iraqi flag looks strikingly like the Zionist flag, with an Islamic crescent in place of the Star of David, with the blue bars simply re-arranged; the two bars representing the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. The over-riding factor in all of this on the US administration's part seemed to be to imbue a sense of mockery onto the popular self-image of Iraqis. The previous flag which the US apparently detests, stupidly, had nothing to do with Saddam Hussein, it actually pre-dated Saddam and was first used by Adul Karim-Qassim, the founder of the Iraqi Republic. That just goes to show you that if the US doesn't like the history of a people, it will re-write it (assuming it knew that history to begin with). And if a flag represents that history, then they'll create a new one -- a sham mockery. Next, Iraq's flags, like the flags of almost every other Arab-dominated nation, have always featured variations on green, gold, black and red. Saddam Hussein's Baathist regime placed three gold stars in the center, representing a hoped-for union with Syria and Egypt. During the 1991 Persian Gulf war, Hussein added an Arabic inscription in his own hand, reading "God is great," in an attempt to de-secularize his country and win support from other Islamic nations. The absence of green, the color of the Prophet and the colour of divine light in Islamic mystical symbolism, provoked controversy among Iraqis as well. All of that is now under attack. Verily, Iraq's history as it is rooted in a common cultural and historical narrative shared by the people is being threatened. Threatened, by whom? Threatened by an un-elected, ergo appointed group of corrupt and criminally-minded charlatans-playing-nation-builders who are in the pocket of a Western hegemonic power that never had nor has any true intentions of unifying the country beyond promoting a faux-stability enforced by arms to further their own oil and myriad capitalistic and religious imperatives and desires. This new flag, an obvious nod to Israel, is only proof of complicity on the part of Zionists. Maybe I'm wrong and paranoid, but of all the history, of all the flags and of all the designs -- one was chosen that looks frighteningly similar in a multitude of ways to only one other country in the world. Israel. Tell me that was a coincidence.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, April 28, 2004 at 06:07 p.m.

It's still unclear as to what exactly happened but apparently Syrian militants opened fire today with rocket-propelled grenades and automatic rifles on an abandoned UN compound. However reports by the UN in direct contrast state that the building itself wasn't damaged. The building is on Mezze road which turns behind the Iranian, British and Canadian embassies-- very interesting developments from a front that has been extremely quiet as of late. According to an eye witness, a school teacher who works for the Damascus Community School stated in interview that:

"...Syrian police were out of control in their response and began firing wildly..."

and that...

"...several people were wounded and then inexplicably dragged away, the police then beat demonstrators who had gathered to protest..."

Again, vaunted Syrian efficiency demonstrates itself in full view of the public. God bless the Syrians and their unflappable ability to engage in international intrigue while buzzing around the eyes of the Americans. Domestic concerns-- my poopy will have her lower intestine examined shortly and in line with pre-ass-rape medical procedure must undertake a few days-long diet of liquids and creamy foods... as she notes on her site, a veritable plethora of Jell-O was consumed followed in quick tote with a large volume of a substance that at first thought might strike one as seemingly having to do with the aid and defence of lizards. Wild-life defense sort of juice, alas my paralyzing suspicions were confirmed. She was drinking the gator's aid. Demonic, I know-- how scary my poopy can be sometimes. She mentioned further in her long fomenting rage against her soon-to-be violation, something much closer to home. The fine products of Fleet. Not Fleet "phospho" naaay, rather-- Fleet, enema. I love enemas. I used to use them all the time and in keeping with the fine tradition of brand loyalty I offer Fleet my site as a venue of their product placement-- gratis. It gets tricky, let me explain. One must have a clean and sterile insertion facilitator, .i.e, a hand. If you're really going to enjoy yourself as I often do, then indulge as I have-- and use two hands. Begin by removing the sheath of plastic which prevents contaminants from coming into contact with this delectible device of deviant pleasure and its joyful and quality-produced saline ass-yumminess. Once removed, clear lubricant pre-applied will be found along the shaft of the enema for ease of insertion whereupon a gentle rocking in and out motion of the enema should follow until erection subsides, help is called, and in your amateurish attempt-- the police arrive and free you from your pleasure-induced central nervous system shutdown and subsequent cardiac failure by applying electrical stimulation to your heart in their attempt to save your perverted, unholy, miserable, masochistic and guilt-ridden soul, all the while your arms and legs are splayed out as saline drips from your open, throbbing anus which twitches, begging for more. Oh valiant instrument of joy for the billions on this earth-- Fleet enema, I salute thee!

posted by qalam on Tuesday, April 27, 2004 at 04:32 p.m.

Bidding on a great messenger bag on eBay... well, not quite. I lied. There's more pleading than bidding going on. Actually pleading seemed to be the most dominant theme in my email-- pleading for the owner to sell it to me before the auction attracts too much attention... it's an age-old and time-honoured tactic which has served me well. Other fronts: I find myself somewhat concerned over registration come morrow; ten unit ceiling for phase one regging. Next phase begins in August. I'll be taking Arabic and to my displeasure, a breadth requirement of American Cultures has yet to be satisfied. Well, I suppose I can take a class on how the evil European white savage wiped out the native population of North America, and up here at Berkeley I'm sure I'll get a very fair and unbiased perspective on the brutal diseased aggression of the colonizers... mwah.

posted by qalam on Monday, April 26, 2004 at 09:40 p.m.

Spent Sunday at a very interesting church with my poopy called Hope Christian church. I loved the place, personally. Yet my poopy in contrast was in a state of perpetual-irk over it. During the sermon, or session, or speech, or whatever it's called these days I asked her what bothered her about it, and she wouldn't tell me inside, perhaps thinking we were in danger of a mass mob ambush or in the midst of molotov-cocktail hurling rioteers. I, unlike my poopy, loved the long haired life-like Jesus figurine singing the Happy Song, whose lyrics entailed "La La La... La La... La La La La La..." in that precise order. Lots of mentions of hope and footprints and hills from what I recall, not much bible-talk though. After holy karaoke with abundant bad electric-guitaring was concluded, presumably now I should feel the holy spirit over come me. It did. It came in the form of hunger. The buffet was brought in-- the most splendid gilded bowls while I in my ignorance thought these were tithing/racket-collection bowls, were actually food bowls. Well, bowls by someone's definition I'm sure. I was told there would be a sumptuous body of Christ contained therein, nails and all. One can only imagine my disappointment in finding what looked less like the divine Leggo my Eggo waffle of the divine body Hernandez, and more like rodent pellets. And that's exactly what I saw before me. Rodent pellets. Apparently one must wash down the body of the divine Christness with a thimble of Welch's grape juice. I presume that to be the blood of the all-merciful Christ pellets in miniature. These thimbles weren't thimbles in purpose than in shape and look. Sticking one's finger in a loaded holy thimble of god's Welch's may result in hellish splashing requiring immediate purgatorial wiping with a damp cloth of merciful forgiveness. I beseeched my conscience not to test the blood of Christ with my pinky. Holding the thimble of God between my thumb and index making sure not to spill anything, the plunking in my thoughts would commence with the index finger of the opposing hand moving in a vertical up and down motion. Ergo, the noble act of plunking. I felt had I done so with the thimble of the triune one that is three that is one, I would go to hell. Atleast, if not hell, to the bathroom to wash my index finger whose tip at this point would be blue with the juice of Jesus Welch's. I was later told that this was known as Communion, but the word sounds like Communism, further proving my view that Christianity is a Jewish plot, seeing as Karl Marx was Jewish. Obviously, the logic illustrated here is quite straightforward and lucidly simple not to mention the connections-- obvious. Out of fear of being summarily the victim of a colossal bitch-slapping undertaken with both hands by my poopy, I refrained from entertaining the more perverse notions running rampant in my head as to what to do with the wafer and thimble when it was to be passed my way. I therefore handed both to some strapping lad standing to my left after being passed the two breakfast plates. I remain unsure as to whether the liquid in the glass thimble cups was actually wine or merely juice. Had it been wine, rest assured dear reader, I would have drunketh and gulpeth and then been bitch-slappeth. After this mini-drama unfolded in my mind my thoughts steered to matters carnal-- namely a girl who after the service walked out of the church wearing a skirt so skin-tight around her ass that one could have had a quarter reach stratospheric heights should one have been bounced off her ass. Some other woman outside was wearing a back-less dress of sorts the bottom of which wasn't tight around her ass but wasn't exactly loose, either. Two reasons already arose as to why my poopy might not like the church. Sure, she mentioned her complaints-- the preacher's lack of eloquence etc., but this OC, so it can't be held against him. Besides, I rather liked the way he pronounced various Biblical cities, like "Thyrabankstittirus" was one city that I found to be quite bibically agreeable as he pronounced it. As if all of this wasn't enough to secure my Muslim allegiance to this church, at the very beginning of service the folks noticed we were new and gave both myself and my poopy glass containers filled with chocolate. If that isn't what Christianity is about, then I don't know what is. I mean, for all the perceived errors my poopy saw, and all of her preferences that went un-met, in my book-- chocolateth forgiveth alleth.

posted by qalam on Monday, April 26, 2004 at 02:12 p.m.

Down here in SoCal over the weekend. Got new grips for my .45 1911. My birthday celebration was planned and enjoyed. No better present comes than in the form of spending time with my poopy. The new grips match my 1911 perfectly, and they're flawless. They're smooth, black and metal (aluminum, pron. "aloomineeyum" if you happen to inhabit Britain)-- as opposed to the previous factory-standard checkered brown grips, which albeit the factory installed in the spirit of the original WWII caliber .45 1911-A1 Springfield Mil-Spec "Nazi Killer," which however are nonetheless not only too grading on the hands (I'm a bitch like that,) but also weak. Plastic breaks upon impact, metal grips-- now those you can break someone's jaw with upon the correct application of a pistolwhipping. I was considering replacing the factory grips with new metal checkered ones but thought to make my pistol even more slender than it already is with the addition of these new smooth grips. I understand the concept behind checkered grips-- gripping traction, albeit serves the interest of tactical needs, however I find unappealing on grounds of personal perference, possibly to my detriment-- I doubt it. Jane is finally wearing her silk black dress instead of brown cardboard box-sides.

posted by qalam on Saturday, April 24, 2004 at 06:36 p.m.

Happy Earth Day all. Enjoyed a surprise guest lecture from Asad AbuKhalil, the social activist and professor at CS Stanislaus who runs angryarab.blogspot.com (yes, that's a plug)-- he spoke quite a bit about US policy formulation vis-a-vis MENA (Middle East & North Africa) but focused on Israel, Iraq and more generally the puppet regimes the US supports and props up. Something I already knew but Asad clarified was why Christian Zionists who are anti-Semitic but pro-Israel would love nothing better than to see global Jewry rounded up and sent to Israel. He explained that in the Biblical framework of eschatology, 2/3rds of the Jews in Israel prior to Armageddon would be wiped out and the remaining 1/3rd would be converted to Christianity. Apparently for the Christian prophet's second-coming as he reigns over a thousand-year period of peace to materialize, the annihilation or conversion of the Jews Of Israel is necessary. This little fact is something Zionist Christians don't advertise as it makes them seem like the cruel and morally-bereft plotters they are-- but it's true. I don't think the next Evangelical flight transporting Russian Jews to Israel will have pamphlets explaining this little doctrine to the Jews aboard-- c'est la guerre. Now, why is it that when innocent Palestinians are killed by Zionists quite publically and their murders are shown on the front pages of all the papers of the world, that so-called doves of peace and defenders of America's morality remain silent? Is that not first-order rank hypocrisy? Yet when those resisting occupation accidentally maim or kill innocents, all of America's political will and propaganda machinery along with its stooges materialise like asses falling out of the sky mid-flight screaming "Bloody murder!" and then refuse to take responsiblity for it. Israel kills a palestinian man, and the US turns a blind eye. The Iraqi Moqawama accidentally kill some children, and America acts like it's the greatest tragedy since the Holocaust. Why is that? Because those critical of resistance have waited and leaped upon a chance to ridicule and shame the resistance. Like cowards, they stayed silent when they shouldn't have, and they act outlandish when they should remain sane. The American presses demonize the resistance for good reason, the american presses are in the pocket of the Whitehouse propaganda chiefs. Look at Faux News and CNN, they're all frothing at the mouth over the recent quadriple suicide strike. Imbeciles. America blames those who resist their occupation and calls them terrorist, yet America remains silent when Zionazis use American weapons to kill innocent people in the Occupied Territories. The US and its "allies" are already in enough of a morally ambiguous position if not downright criminal, to then prattle ad nauseum about a mistake the resistance made in timing the operation and then using that as a platform for attempts to de-legitimize the moqawama, well, not only failed, but prove to the world over Israel's complicity and America's twisted policies and all the more criminal behavior globally.

posted by qalam on Thursday, April 22, 2004 at 05:26 p.m.

Super fag pop hip-thrusting moonwalking paedophile superstar Michael Jackson has been convicted of a few counts of child molestation ::hoo hoo, thrusts hips, slides:::. I knew they'd finally nail that miserable child-fucking predator. I mean, really-- sleeping with kids as a grown man; the hell is wrong with him? Giving them wine, hanging his baby out the window clear over the rail, about time they put this has-been and threat-to-the-community in the clink, hopefully to be fucked up the ass by some black prisoner's mandingo dick.

posted by qalam on Thursday, April 22, 2004 at 10:18 a.m.

Recently, four simultaneous suicide strikes were executed against Iraqi collaborators in the form of police stations in Basra, the buildings nearby including the closest Az-Zubaid police station had its facade sheared off; an unfortunate aspect of popular resistance against occupation lies in the fact that often times innocent children, men and women have their lives lost in the process. Two schoolbuses were in the vicinity when the resistance operation was executed resulting in the deaths of many of those school-children. Loss of innocent life, daily, is an unfortunate consequence of improvised resistance tactics. If the popular Iraqi resistance had at its disposal air firepower or land firepower comparable to that of the Americans or Zionists, technoogy just as equally sohpisticated-- then the most recent and tragic loss of innocent life would not have taken place. One must ultimately lay the blame of their deaths partially on their chance bad timing, but moreover, largely, the blame falls flat on American imperialist designs on Iraq. If the US would've wisely chosen a non-military route in negotiating or otherwise dealing with Iraq its peaceful disarmament, lives wouldn't needlessly be sacrificed as they have been as of late. The lives of resistance fighters, noble mujahid moqawama that have been lost in the aim of repelling Western belligerence are just as pure and innocent as the lives lost in the recent spate of attacks.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, April 21, 2004 at 10:49 p.m.

The now-fifty years old Mordechai Vannunu, the former nuclear technician at the Dimona nuclear facility, has been freed after eighteen years of imprisonment. Describing his treatment--

"I suffered here 18 years because I am a Christian ... if I was Jewish I wouldn't have this suffering and isolation."
CNN

The first eleven years and six months of his term was spent in solitary confinement. More than enough time for even the most well psychologically-trained and ironclad mind to go insane, irrevokably. He was lured to Rome then drugged by a female operative of the Mossad and then sent back to Israel to face trial and imprisonment over eighteen years ago. He revealed to the world Israel's nuclear arsenal and its capability-- in doing so shone the limelight of Zionist hypocrisy and militarism upon the program, setting it ablaze for all the world to see. Yet another example illustrates that even Christian Zionists themselves must have their consciences freed from the shame and guilt they bear for supporting such hideous aims for a state all the more morally and legally disfigured-- an enemy of peace.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, April 21, 2004 at 11:28 a.m.

Only as of late have I re-acquired a forgotten taste for Slayer, reminding me of my days of high-school angst and impetuosity. That is to say it stands as stark contrast to who I am now, atleat the argument can be made without one running too severe a risk of ridicule. At a younger age it seemed that the rights and wrongs of the world were clear, luminescent, blatant and vulnerable to the pointing out. As I've aged since then both in chronological terms and in terms less amenable to clear measurement, my views have become more cynical and jaded-- the mark of a discerning mind and clear thinker. Every now and then in the gray and misty world of morality and subjective interpretation of right and wrong, indeed even of good and evil-- something strikes you as exceedingly characteristic of one, or the other-- of good, or bad, right or wrong. Some issues remain the same in the morally reprehensible hue they bear-- crimes against children or the infirm, against the innocent, or crimes of flesh against women. Some issues remain however clouded in the fog of political haziness, and bias. I have my own, I lay them bare here for all to sympathize with or criticize, I have nothing to fear. It seems recently the Americans have decided to sick the dogs against Saddam Hussein. Captured, humiliated, stripped of military rank and social prestige, and perhaps the one thing he values above all of those-- how people fear him-- have all been stripped of him. Now, he's a toy. A toy that spins and dances to the American whim. A person who once in the height of his reign evoked terror now evokes pity, even sympathy from his erstwhile enemies-now-captors and tormentors. I was talking somewhat earlier about rights and wrongs being discernable. In the instance arising of how Saddam is to be judged, a clear wrong materializes. To have criminals in the Iraqi National Congress, judge him would be a terrible mistake. This council has at its head, a fraudster, charlatan and American-puppet in the person of Ahmed Chalabi whom I hope succumbs to an assassin's bullet or explosive device. Ahmed Chalabi is to head the judging council set to pass its will over Saddam, and true mockery of justice regionally has never seen a precedent set like this-- where pure theatrical mockery of law is to perform its final act of comedy-tragedy in the role of Chalabi and his merry gang of criminals and puppets. The theatre never died in England, it moved to Baghdad.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, April 20, 2004 at 04:45 p.m.

Prime Minister Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero, who swept to victory in elections three days after the Madrid attack, said he acted after deciding the United Nations was unprepared to take over the occupation of Iraq - his condition for keeping Spanish troops in the country. Militants who claimed responsibility for the March 11 Madrid bombings said they were in retaliation for Spain's role in Iraq. Who says terrorism doesn't work when used as a precision instrument of political will? In this case, political will materialized-- Spain is pulling her troops from Iraq. Terrorism works.

posted by qalam on Sunday, April 18, 2004 at 01:58 p.m.

Ending tonight on a note of amusement. An old friend-- Sheba, contacted me today and we chatted it up. A former co-worker at the college I transferred from. Had ourselves a long chat about relationships, family, beliefs, abstractions of eschatology moreover. It was a nice catching-up. It has been confirmed that the martyrdom of Rantisi was made possible by a rocket-strike, not a carbomb of any kind. The Whitehouse issued a statement declaring that Israel has the right to defend itself from terrorism, yet Israel wasn't attacked before Rantisi assumed power; instead, he assumed power and they just martyred him. They martyred him for nothing. Egypt issued that it condemned the assassination, yet the impotent and corrupt Egyptians who sold out to the Israelis to make a hollow peace, once again, are ignored by Israel and the rest of the world when they make a statement. Jordan issued a similar statement, yet it's still but one of a myriad of inept and corrupt Arab regimes on the payroll of the West. All bark and no bite. Israel continues to behave like a cowboy in the world and the world continues to suffer and be further de-stabilized at its hands and by its actions. It continues to act as an agent of Western imperial design by complying with Western wishes to further undermine the impetus behind arab nationalism and pursuits of sovereignty. The Palestinians are further deprived of their right to nationhood by acts of Israeli state-sanctioned terrorism against a legitimate uprising. The illegitimate state of Israel will drag its neighbors into a regional war and therefore a potentially global one no doubt much to the orgasm of filthy Zionist Christians and Zionist Jews and other despicable supporters of terrorism. May whatever paradise they seek, or second coming or Armageddon they wish to materialize, land on their heads and burn them alive.

posted by qalam on Saturday, April 17, 2004 at 10:26 p.m.

Short intervals have passed since my last update, many things have been going since then. Hostages have been taken and released, dramas continue to be belabored and unfurled. On Friday an NRA convention was held in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania-- although I agree in principle with their ultimate aims and ideals, I still think those who compose their ranks should at the very least have graduated high school before being considered for membership. Although they boast a diverse membership, after seeing the movie Wrong Turn recently one can't help but involuntarily and almost reflexively cast NRA stereotypes into that film which plays in my head when I think of the NRA, or Orange County for example. At any rate, today marks the second day of cease-fire talks with the Sunni Fallouja resistance fighters. What serves as the impetus behind America's newfound zeal for negotiating with people they call terrorists (note US policy-hypocrisy) is the recent abduction of Pfc. Keith Matthew Maupin, a sad looking fellow on first sight:

On a more somber note: today the appointed head of Hamas was killed, Abdel Aziz al-Rantisi-- along with a bodygaurd and a score of innocents were injured when, it's still unclear, a booby-trapped car detonated or a rocket-strike from a Zionist American-bought helicopter gunship, struck his car. The more lives the Israelis take, the more fates of their own people, they seal.

posted by qalam on Saturday, April 17, 2004 at 12:31 p.m.

The sonofabitch testified today. The asshole prick in question is that inept pile of shit John Ashcroft whose sole task as Attorney General amounted to saving the country from peril. He claims in testimony it would've taken a battery of lawyers to justify the killing or capturing of Bin Laden pre-9/11. What legal matters have to do with safeguarding American lives is disgusting, and for the AG of the US to be concerned with weighing matters of legal consequence against the backdrop of imminent terrorist so-called "spectaculars" is numbing. I demand a slaughter of these politicians. They don't care about lives lost, only coffers lined and asses saved. Their own asses, saved, that is. Asses that should've been placed over the coals and burned until the smell of a raging barbeque lofted above and could be smelled from miles around. A nice charred black, is how I like the asses of my politicians, especially slimy liters of grease like Ashcroft, Rumsfeld and those two supreme imbeciles which stand at the head of the circus, making way for the elephants, midgets and bearded women-- Bush and Louis Freeh. Round and round we go on the glistening gold-plated carousel of deceit and ass-coverage. These aforementioned politicians should stand trial themselves, Bush included-- for their lack of concern in saving the lives of their citizens. They were instead far too busy doing lines of blow and engaging in frivolous partisan quarrels to take note of all-too-real looming danger. I for one hope the Commission itself personally takes that pile of glowing ineptitude Dr. Rice and uses her as fodder for a free Washington D.C. bonfire, open to all residents. A veritable witch-burning. Nothing's wrong with a witch hunt so long as those hunted are witches, and in the limelight of this D.C. scandal which shines through the 9/11 Commission, there are no innocents in the corridors of power-- if they could have done something to avert the atrocities. They're all guilty, and I'm all in favour of a summary hanging in the village square of every last one of them. And when we run out of rope, the policy of lining them up and mowing them down should be adopted from our old Soviet friends who used the tried and true tactic to its utmost utility. These people deserve it, at the very least they should all lose their jobs; Freeh had the sense enough to resign after all. If this happened in any other country, it would've amounted to a mass mobilization against parliament ending with the torching of a few ministries of this or that. So far, not a single government building in this country has felt so much as the heat of a lit match-stick for the attacks of 9/11. That's the biggest shame. That aside from a slew of tears shed and shoulders rubbed and backs patted, nothing was done to show the government the level of rising discontentment felt by citizens in the face of such an audacious and brazen act. The citizens of the US continue to remain silent in the face of government apraxia and procedural paralysis, and no one cares. If this were any other country, even Canada-- there would've been assassinations by now.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, April 13, 2004 at 06:17 p.m.

Enjoyed the weekend with my lady; this week is career week at Berkeley and there are quite a few kiosks/reps I'd like to see, some grad schools and others more vocationally-oriented. Had dinner with Autumn's folks before I left and I feared the matter might get messy, luckily it didn't turn out that way-- luckily. Tomorrow morning FBI employees and Louis Freeh are to testify before the 9/11 Commission, Freeh in an op-ed piece wrote:

"Short of total war, the FBI relentlessly did its job of pursuing terrorists, always with the goal of preventing their attacks."
-Freeh writes in the article.

Well, maybe it takes a war, to avert one. Is the FBI itself even capable of engaging in a policy of vernichtungskrieg against a shadowy and ethereal opponent? The short of it: no. The long of it: hell no. This cold-war dinosaur is incapable of listening to its own leather-burners on the street a la the now-notorious Phoenix Memo-- to consider it capable of engaging in battles of intelligence or counter-insurgency against an assymetrical cell-based-organized enemy with no common uniform or language beyond a common philosophy binding it together, is to whit, foolish on its face. The Clowns In Action and Famous But Incompetant require radical overhauling to be effective against a foe using 21st century organizational tactics and armed with mid-20th century weapons-- and the CIA and FBI, are losing. Sometimes, war is the only outcome of an action designed to prevent another war of far larger costs. These two organizations are afraid, by design. Caution is law, not avantegarde philosophy. These are the world's dinosaurs-- and organizations like them, al-Qa'ida was the meteor.

posted by qalam on Monday, April 12, 2004 at 03:25 p.m.

On a more humorous note, amidst all of this grim-faced austerity these days, not too long ago 5 Korean missionaries preaching the good word were captured by Moqawama forces and later released. Footage available via BBC. Now, I started thinking about this little incident after I first head about it. What has to cross an asian missionary's mind-- to convince them to swim in a sea of angry brown during a time of conflict? I mean, they're good at math, so surely, they could've done the math on the probability of their success, better yet landed a cushy job next to their Hindu buddies at a Microsoft center in Seoul that was outsourced, HR-1 visas firmly in hand. "Why?" the answer suddenly appeared to me. Jesus. Their missionizing, or missionarizing, or whatever the nomenclature, brought them to Iraq to convert muslims during this time of conflict. Due to the fact that Jesus guided them here, I feel it quite right to lay the blame of their capture and release squarely on the shoulders of the man who sent them there. Now what's really piss-sad about these misguided Koreans is how on earth they thought they would manage to convert brown skin, arab muslim, arabic speaking men and women, to Christianity. I mean, I think it's safe to say that the arabs would spot something horribly wrong when their skinny little asses started walking around talking in Korean about "jessussuh." I'm sure some mujahid or fedayeen member stopped upon hearing them talk about the lovely Christian faith and promptly barked at them in Arabic the news of their newfound citizenship to the nation of hostages, which composes the ranks of those captured by the Islamic Resistance. No doubt upon hearing a burly arab barking at them, I'm sure they thought they just won themselves a new convert, but I'm sure not long after that their hopes faded as they realized they were being lied to when told in English, through a thick Arab accent, that wearing handcuffs and being pissed-on is part of the Muslim-to-Christian conversion process. And that the only way to win the heart of Arab Muslims in Iraq is to respect this local custom. No doubt they stripped naked and embraced the golden shower of Islamic Resistance, god be with them.

posted by qalam on Thursday, April 8, 2004 at 11:39 p.m.

Moqawama al-Mahdi has inflicted yet another severe blow against Occupation Forces to the rhyme of seven dead US soldiers who were fired upon, once more, by RPG's in attempting to quell what they viewed as a mob. The days pass and the nation of Iraq further tailspins into economic and political instability leading the rest of the area into regional destabilization-- something that can only result in the formation of more of what the US would call "terrorist groups" and I would call liberation forces. After the laughable Rice testimony which was less testimony and more filibuster, the country and in a larger sense the whole world now recognize the global implications of unilateralist interventionist neo-colonial imperialist hegemony, and the designs it carries into the Middle East for its own nefarious political purposes-- like bolstering international Zionism. The Islamic legion of al-Sadr is rumored to be considering tactics of self-sacrifice martyrdom operations in its aim of liberating Iraq through the complete and total obliteration of all Occupation Personnel. Under sworn oath testimony the good doctor claimed that there was "no silver bullet" that could have prevented the massacres of 9/11, yet the US pre-9/11 required no magical silver-bullet, but rather a series of concrete policy initiatives which would've led to the harassment of al-Qa'ida so as to atleast stall any attack, yet even such token measures of formulating policy strategies in tackling the organization-- never materialized. You don't stop organized violence on the policy-wonk level by looking around in a closet for an imaginary silver bullet, and that's the core concept Rice's underlings and Rice herself failed to understand on time, assuming she understands now. So-called "terrorism" or organized violence in general is countered with an organized and balanced governmental policy and actions which are burgeoned of it, and for leaders of the last remaining superpower, Bush, Cheney and Rice behave as though they're high school coaches whose star player made a simple error-- as though it was an abstract issue moot to consider. People have died, three-thousand lives were snuffed out and the Rice team acts like it was just a mishap on the school jungle-gym if you consider the earnestness with which they treat this matter. I feel they're not addressing matters of such urgency with the care and persistance that policy-leaders and strategists must treat them with. It is due to one policy failure after and followed by other acts of neglect and failure of planning, that has lead us all down the road we've been on. It's policy failures in one instance and outright lack of forethought in other instances however that more adequately explain the current Iraq mess.

posted by qalam on Thursday, April 8, 2004 at 05:16 p.m.

Due to an arrest warrant being issued by American Occupation Forces for a "firebrand" shia cleric Muqtada al-Sadr, 12 American lives have been lost as his militia al-Mahdi army resists American colonial aggression in their attempts to arrest leaders of resistance forces. The noble Imam is being defended by the rightious al-Mahdi army in a Mosque in Najaf, one of Iraq's holiest shia cities. The American Occupation Force has fired on the mosque and in retaliation the noble moqawama al-Mahdi offered counter-battery in the form of seven rocket-propelled grenades which neutralized 12 Occupation Soldiers. The price that must be paid for American Force occupying a country raises, day by day, body by body.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, April 7, 2004 at 10:47 a.m.

Now folks, let me tell all of you something about myself. More specifically, let me tell you something about the things I hate. We all run in circles that we wish didn't have certain people in it, my kitty is no exception. She has a friend named Karyel, who's quite a lying manipulative human being. As of late she's taken it upon herself to become a disruptive influence and force in my kitty's life. It's unfortunate that she selected an option that was unwise with regard to her personal behavior. She was explictly asked to refrain from acting in a certain manner by my kitty-- yet she acted in that manner in spite of a kind request made by said kitty. Now, a whole series of people are involved in all of this, this being what myself and kitty write about, and in order to bring attention to her own useless and dead-end life, Karyel has decided to play the role of chief antagonist. Which is fine, since I'm armed, intelligent and criminally insane-- the perfect counter-balance. That's what I hate. People like Karyel. When I first met Karyel, she seemed like a marginally decent human being worth talking too and being on good terms with, the more time I spent over at the house she and her room-mates lived in, the more I discerned a markedly distinguishable cult-of-personality in operation. I told my kitty that and after some while she came to agree, but that's not the main thrust of my point. Karyel, in her religiousity and self-perceived do-gooding should have enough intelligence (arguably she does as I was informed of her IQ score once) to realize that a nasty pattern is emerging. Every time she behaves deceptively-- she's caught. My kitty caught her in this instance; she's been caught before lying and I myself first-hand can testify to her personal attributes to be quite in line with a person committing such acts. Now, her family, my kitty's that is, are genuinely humane, decent and good people. Their perception of me, not that I have any investment in it, has been tarnished by this latest act of deception on Karyel's part, which is quite unfortunate. Karyel, is becoming less and less of a friend to my kitty, despite the orgy of love I'm sure they still have for each other, and seeing as I know Karyel's IQ, I know therefore that she has a capacity for good sense, which, sadly, she seems to take pleasure in not using-- as her actions and duplicity seem to indicate. Now, kitty's parents aren't fond of me being with their daughter, nor are her siblings, neither is the cabal Karyel runs, or Karyel herself. None of this poses the slightest bit of concern or consternation on my part, because I don't care. You see, the fine art of "not caring" has been perfected by the likes of me, and perfected to the point of it being short of a science, I'll have you all know. Kitty's dad think I'm arrogant, something about the tone with which I write. I suppose since I'm not white he expects me to write it ghetto, I don't know. Karyel seems not to care about endangering people's perceptions of her, otherwise why would someone engage in such foolish and feckless behavior? I for one can think of no valid reason. Alas, she does, and my kitty's family has apparently written her off. Now all of my kitty's friends may hate me for religious, political reasons etc., yet people like Karyel and Karyel herself should atleast learn to exercise judgement in their attempts to injure people or throw a wrench into something they don't like to see moving, like my relationship with my kitty. Karyel has grown in my eyes to be seen as quite a pathetic and dispicable little manipulator. This, the same person whom I disgraced myself by visiting in the hospital after she had her guts torn out. I was behaving under the assumption that I was visiting a decent person, that, I see now, was a mistaken assumption.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, April 6, 2004 at 04:23 p.m.

Well, tonight took a turn for the entertaining which resulted in a permanent grin being drilled into my face. Autumn's folks decided to make a point of printing up my entire log for their personal review, lovely. Apparently my blog numbers a stunning 141 pages. A small book, as far as length is concerned. The matter's resolved and it seems that I'll be joining all of them for dinner on Sunday. It doesn't require a dissertation-length statement to sum up my opinion on the matter, atleast not required for those who know me. At rate it, it seems it's Passover, and the shit has indeed, been passed over into my lap with all of this. I'm tired, time to rot...

posted by qalam on Monday, April 5, 2004 at 10:51 p.m.

Thankfully, today marks a return to normalcy with respect to the weather. It was cold, grey-- overcast. Precisely the millieu required for somber, rational and sane thought. On an aside, I've enlisted the aid of another student in assisting me in forming a mental structure so as to better understand precisely what's required of me as I apply to graduate programs. A structure specifically relating to abstracts of longer written pieces. At any rate, it should be fruitful, as it required little effort, and the eagerness of my compatriot should prove valuable. My angel is considering growing her hair out, I find that it would suit her quite nicely, it falls in line with my taste yet not being one to force a hand, I made it clear that she could change it any way she pleased; the matter was only broached when my kitty cat mentioned she disliked her current fashion in that regard. Fashion, really, is a disgusting notion, atleast from a utilitarian standpoint. It serves only the interest of commercial industry and in no way benefits the end user beyond satisfying a complacent and morose perception that some self-worth has been met. A self-worth defined by that very same industry that peddles the clothing, the makeup and other female ornamentation that detracts from a woman's naturally pleasing features. The argument can be reasonably made that makeup and other figurative ornamentation serves to further enhance those natural features, yet rarely is that effective. Rather, the end result of mass-beautification of the women of society is a cosmopolitan nightmare of artificial construction. Such a result has only done a disservice to "modern" society as it has numbed men to the more subtle means and measures implemented by women to appeal to men. I therefore have successfully laid bare and before you all the quite justified argument that make-up, you see, makes us men, dumber-- and by that I mean, less able to discern deliberate nuance-- and finer points of the laws of attraction and beauty. Now, as to why I've ranted about this topic when it was my firm intention to expound upon the glory of what most people deem "bad weather,"-- is unknown to me. However, I have ranted, and there it is. Furthermore, I'd like to say that no matter what my poopy does, she looks fine. Ok, it's late, I'm not really that tired, yet continuing to ramble incessantly would possibly trigger suicidal thinking in the reader, and we couldn't have that. No... no... not at all...

posted by qalam on Sunday, April 4, 2004 at 11:14 p.m.

Just came back from the store with a sub sandwich, two roomies are out at a punk concert (NOFX, Authority Zero, Jello Biafra) and I'm all alone by my onesies playing the Black Hawk Down soundtrack, should get on to the matter of writing a paper for Chaudry and a re-write of another paper for a GSI-- good news is Monday, the only class I have, has been cancelled. Free day. Yayness.

posted by qalam on Saturday, April 3, 2004 at 01:37 p.m.

The Zionist filth have turned two young Resistance fighters into noble Shaheed, fighters who exterminated a man in a settlement and a young woman who were both in violation of International Law on War and Occupation. Bit by bit, a war of attrition is waged against the Zionist Occupiers and the noble Moqawama shall fight until the bitter end for as long as blood flows in their veins. They will not be pacified, made to kneel, desist nor will they cower. The illegal Avnei Hefetz settlement near the Palestinian town of Tulkarem was the target of the resistance fighters-- this all follows on the heels of the entry of Zionist Occupation Forces into the blessed al-Aqsa Mosque to quell stone-throwing youth. This is a war not merely of ideology or bullets, but of demographics, and in this respect, for every fighter the Occupiers turn into martyrs, many are born to replace and swell their ranks with a rage and fury that makes the knees of grown men bend in respect and fear. Blessed will be the Day when the Shi'a Nation rises to her rightful place in nuclear status and demonstrates its willingness and Zeal for martyrdom against the Zionist enemy. When that day comes, the Nation of Israel will fall beneath the shadow of a Shi'a Nuclear Flag, and blessed will be the day that God drapes them in that flag of justice. The Zulfiqar will not be made to crack, but have its luster reflect brightly the zeal of the ummah al-Islammiyah in its defense of its dignity. Mash'allah.

posted by qalam on Friday, April 2, 2004 at 11:54 p.m.

The pledge by Spain's incoming prime minister Zapatero-- who was seated March 24 2004 and whose socialist party ousted Jose Aznar-- to withdraw Madrid's 1,300 troops from Iraq, truly demonstrates to the world that the will of the majority can and will be listened to, and that their intentions will be heeded by those walking the corridors of power, even if that will has to be spoken and conveyed through a voice of terror. Nonetheless Zapatero has proven to world leaders what they are unwilling to believe or admit-- terrorism, works.

"The Spanish troops in Iraq will come home,"
-Zapatero to Cadena Ser radio.

"The war has been a disaster [and] the occupation continues to be a disaster. It has only generated violence."
-Zapatero to Cadena Ser radio.

posted by qalam on Friday, April 2, 2004 at 10:38 a.m.

Slow day, too slow, as a matter of fact. Should get the GRE material from my GSI tomorrow... been reviewing gre.org for a while now figuring out just what has to be done when and how. Spent some time making my woman call me Wheatus, a name I feel to be a fine Southern name -- alas she refuses. Apparently she still has some things I can't quite torque out of her-- like ackowledge the fact that Wheatus is a damned fine name. I figure I can change my name to Wheatus and fit in with her relatives better-- like Lyle. Now, Lyle looks like an honest man. I mean, a man with a substantial gut and a spit-skid on his shirt can't reasonably think he could get away with lying to you about anything, see? That's my thesis. My thesis on why slobs can't be liars. They just can't be. Slobs are like Snails, they do one thing well, and only one thing. Trudge along. Lying takes a fine mind and a skilled pair of unshifitng eyes as well as a decently convincing monotone voice which the correct commission of deception requires. You see, Lyle has none of these things--ergo, an honest decent man. Now, I won't air my baby's klan's, I mean, clan's dirty laundry by saying, exactly, in meticulous exactitude as to why, precisely why, my kiwwy cat as a young child wasn't allowed to visit old Lyle. Suffice it to say, had the food branch of the government that gives letter grades to restaurants, visited old uncle Lyle, well, they'd nuke the city just to see his house burning. I'm sure it wasn't that serious but hey, you haven't seen this man. I have. In stone cold hard face to face homo sape to homo sape fashion. Point blank. And I've survived long enough to have these as my last words before I croak of radiation exposure: everything you've heard is true. Lyle should rather be called, the Lylator, as he Alylates all that he is exposed to on sight. Poof, like magic. Ash. Playing some Pantera right now, wishing I could see their Cowboys From Hell, why? So I could see Lyle in the video. Motherfucker, you know he's in the video, now on your knees, blow me my "I'm sorry we ever doubted you, daddy." blowjob. Lyle would be in Pantera too, but he's probably been in some bands in his youth, like the more famous ones: Rolling Angry Brush, Shit Super Tornado, and lastly, a lesser known garage band: My Sissie's My Mamma Is Yours Too. Now this last band has a few songs the titles of which I'd like to mention:

Track 01: I'd fuck my mama if I cudd [sic]
Track 02: I'd fuck my daddy if he wore Lipstick
Track 03: God my sissies poony sure is tight
Track 04: I love Jesus.
Track 05: Jesus Jesus Jesus!!!
Track 06: Jesus Made Mommy Pregnant!
Track 07: What to do when your momma sucks you.
Track 08: I can lick my balls, you can too!
Track 09: How to spell "4311" on a calkilatur!

And ladies and gents, lastly:

Track 10: Jesus had a trailor!

There we have it. A stunning medley of song titles that say more about the man than I could ever know.

posted by qalam on Thursday, April 1, 2004 at 05:19 p.m.

The Whitehouse has finally caved under pressure placed on it by Clarke's enlightening yet scathing critique and commentary on the Bush administration's failures in light of its claimed and widely-touted anti-"terrorism" efforts. The politically inept Dr.Rice, in a letter sent to the Commission from the Whitehouse has stated her willingness to publicly testify-- with a few strings attached, however. Previously, the Whitehouse claimed that it had "executive privilege" to retain Rice and keep her from the scorching interrogation that awaited her in front of the Commission. That's right, "executive privilege" used to cover over the three-thousand dead bodies of her fellow countrymen and women that demand answers. If that in and of itself doesn't serve as a repellent enough notion to the reader-- afterwards the good doctor's cover was changed to one of a "matter of principle" not to testify. Now that cliched cherry on top of the much more deservedly cliched cake, should serve as quite the ingredient to make readers cringe in disgust-- if not vomit. Now readers might find themselves wondering at what exactly those aforementioned "strings" I spoke of are, they are:

"The commission must agree in writing that Rice's appearance would not set a precedent for testimony by White House staff -- and that the commission 'will not request additional public testimony from any White House official, including Dr. Rice.'"

Let me now don my Universal Translator:
We'll give you the tender, ripe, golden-brown ass of Dr.Rice in exchange for your desisting from acts of further harassment to prove that we, the Bush administration are truly as inept as we indeed, seem on our very face. This tooth-gnashing detail of stipulation is noteworthy on its own merit given the fact that, as expected and as prognosticated by this site, the apraxia that exists in this nation's counter-"terror" efforts are unparalleled for their lack of cohesion and efficacy. That is what allowed 9/11 to happen. Technical ineptitude and bureaucratic stonewalling. The same stonewalling that we now have a bitter taste of as manifested by Dr. Rice's persistent, stubborn refusals to serve the public will-- as the public through the Commission must beg and plead for Dr. Rice to testify. See how quickly hawks of war becomes doves of peace as the boxcutters are turned on them? They sing for peace, now-- as their throats are put to the blade of public inquiry.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 30, 2004 at 09:13 a.m.

After having just visited my counselor as to when the GRE's should be taken, I feel more rested and my jitters hushed-- as this matter was tickling my nerves for some while. After a rather exerting walk, as is always the case-- from the BART station to the campus, I feel more rested. Once more I find myself facing the task of "hitting the grind" in order to get that paper at the end of the rainbow. I already have a few professors who've stated they'd be more than willing to take care of my matters as they relate to recommendations for graduate programs. Needless to say I'll keep all of you apprised of progress and the processes behind that progressing progression of progress, indeed :). At any rate, I yearn to discern my mid-term grades for all my classes, I very much doubt I would've gotten marks below those desired. Digressions however persist I'll put them aside to say, that for some strange reason (melodic reason, perhaps) the rhythm and tune of The Verve Pipe's song "Photograph" is somehow deeply moving. What's more striking is that I first heard the song ages ago in my more youthful youth (say ten years ago, probably less, but definitely some good long while ago) and then as of late by happenstance I chanced across it once more-- this time savoring the opportunity to download it for my own personal moments of silence and contemplation. It isn't the lyrics, it's the music, not the electric guitar, but that sound. Without knowing it, or perhaps with full understanding and knowledge, The Verve Pipe struck a very ancient melody. It moves one. At any rate, there's far little else worthy of note beyond what's been made good and thorough mention of, so I deign to make it my place to end this post without really much saying anything.
[five minutes of continuous unbroken silence while staring into monitor, hands to side, somewhat drooling]

posted by qalam on Monday, March 29, 2004 at 02:48 p.m.

Dr. Condoleeza Rice must have had the most skill, exquisite grip and sophistication in her performing fellatio on whomever it took to get her Ph.D, as she is a doctor-- I say this as I deem her intellect to be acutely lacking. Since this greasy slimeball spokesperson for the administration lacked the decency to appear before the public during the 9/11 Commission's Hearings for her behavior and policy-initiatives prior and post-9/11 she still tightly clings to the delusion that the current administration always had terrorism on the highest rung of priority on their to-deal-with lists-- deeply entrenched and convoluted metal illness would be the only impetus behind her current behavior. After such heinous, reprehensible attacks as those of 9/11 one would think that if the administration had nothing to hide or cover up that it would be more willing and forthcoming with executives like Rice or whomever else a Panel or Commission wished to have present to question. That wasn't and isn't the case. Bush and Cheney are to meet privately with the Commission, and the same goes for Rice. For an administration like ours-- an administration that has wholly outlandishly made the case, however short on hard facts it may be, but so loudly, abrasively and garishly, that it made it seem nothing short of Iraq was behind all universal evil, ever, everywhere-- that this same administration would suddenly become so coy, shy and ticklish when it came to being questioned about the reasons for going to war, and the WMD's we should've found once we invaded, well it doesn't take a Ph.D of Rice's caliber, surely, to smell the distinct odor of bullshit in the air. The distinct and unmistakeble stench of deceit, lofted and floating in the air. I hope this recalcitrance on the part of the administration highlights in clear terms, especially for political fence-sitters, that Rice isn't speaking because she's got proof overwhelming her that the Iraq invasion was justified and wants to keep it to herself, that the proof is flooding out of filing-cabinets and washing over Rice and carrying her down the halls of the White House in a tidal fury heretofore never seen, but rather to cover the administration's lies and the blood on its hands, due to the fact that the invasion wasn't justified and their fumbling and dropping of the political ball in terms of Rice's no-show-- proves it. It proves we've all been taken on a ride of tidal proportions.

posted by qalam on Sunday, March 28, 2004 at 07:13 p.m.

Well fuck it. Last day of Spring Break and a loaded schedule we have before ourselves. Gonna visit a local masjid to have a few of my kitty's questions answered about Islam and some Qur'anic verses inter alia, then we'll have lunch with the RoJo battalion and finally later on in the day meet up with Teresa for what I would think to be dinner. On an aside, should David Atell and John Leguazamo ever get together an have themselves a kid and that kid decides to grow up and teach kindergarten, then that, dear folks-- would spell the doom of humanity (which I'm 100% for.) At any rate, gotta start packing soon... finally got around to shaving my head and bic'ing it, and the kitty decided to use the clippers quite liberally on my personhood as well, sure, she was just gonna clean the back of my neck-- NAY, oh what places her hands have strayed...

posted by qalam on Sunday, March 28, 2004 at 08:43 a.m.

I can't believe the week is almost over. Spring break's end is approaching far too quickly for my liking. I must however desist from declarations of anger or digust at this fact but rather note on a highter tone that the time I spent, was spent well. I lounged, practiced being a cowboy (a secret now revealed to you all) with my .45 with my woman's panties bound over my head. Yeah, sure I cross-dress when she's not here; don't act like you don't-- fucking liar. The deathly stank odor of deception emanates from the very bones of certain readers whenever they think they can lie about their cross-dressing. It's nothing to be ashamed of: I for one enjoy reckless gunplay with my woman's panties tightly rung about my head. Sure, does it create unhealthy levels of pressure on my brain that could cause an accident with my firearm or a sudden loss of consciousness resulting in my being found by EMT's-- in the nude, on the floor, with panties tied around my head and with a loaded pistol on the floor laying next to me? Ofcourse, not that anything of the like would happen, I'm just saying though, that's all-- juss' sayyin'. At any rate, I'm seriously considering applying directly to a few Ph.D programs right out of school. What's the point of having an M.A.? People who need an advanced degree get MAs in order to fulfill the "advanced degree" requirement of their work or what have you, and it's not needed by people who intend to get a Ph.D. It's just years of wasted time and lost opportunity. Besides one can get an MA during one's Ph.D studies almost as a bonus anyway, so I might get one. I'll still apply to one very specific overseas graduate program (read: it's not a doctoral program) just to see if they'd admit me. Other concerns abound as I realize I'm a junior: tests. Specifically, the GRE-- more specifically: when, where, and how to take it. Seeing as it's the golden key to the gate of higher education, I'll have to submit myself-- once more -- to the degradation of standardized testing. Now, I understand the need for it, but I still discern a very fine line of dignity being crossed. Universities need to be able to weed out and filter on a standard level a mass quantity of applicants, ergo the SAT (for cocksucking high schoolers,) LSAT (for shystingprick greedy bastards who tend to be citizens of Israel,) GMAT (for business-leaning masters of the language of cocksuckese,) MCAT (for decent people who want to live professional lives being raped by HMOs) and finally the GRE (well, quite frankly, for bastards like me.) I'll end up boiling down the number of schools I apply to, to four, maybe five. There's a notable expense involved in applying to begin with-- some programs want $70 just for the pleasure of rejecting you, others want more. Shyster fucks. Sure, I'm angry, you should be angry too-- if you're not then you're hemhorraging blood out of your head and don't know it yet. At any rate, I'm not going to worry about any of this bullshit yet, I'll go and sit down with a counselor and have the bullshit cleared away. All there is to it. Goddamnit.

posted by qalam on Friday, March 26, 2004 at 09:23 a.m.

Workout diva and exuberant fitness icon Richard Simmons has been arrested and put up on a misdemeanor assault charge for slapping someone after being mocked at the Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. According to Reuters and AP, he was quoted as saying:

"I just had to bitch-slap him."
-Richard Simmons, fitness personality

Also according to Reuters the provacateur was heard saying:

"Hey everybody, it's Richard Simmons, let's drop our bags and rock to the '50s.'"
-Un-named provacateur upon seeing Richard Simmons

Sgt. Lauri Williams on site claimed witnesses heard the provacateur declaim this quite loudly whereupon a ravaged and maddened Simmons lashed out and struck at the hapless unfortunate during his attempt at humor. Later on according to Fox News the Israeli government had phoned Simmons asking him to consider a position as chief ambassador to all Arab states. Simmons, according to Fox News, responded to the surprising gesture by saying:

"I may be an angry faggot who even when enraged bitch-slaps rather than punches-- but I'd rather be a faggot fitness guru with attitude than an Israeli."
-Richard Simmons, 55, fitness icon

Upon hearing this public response Hezbollah, the Lebanese Shi'ite militia transferred USD$ 2 million to Simmons' fitness foundation. Neither Hezbollah nor Simmons however later acknowledged any of this, once again, acording to Fox News.

posted by qalam on Thursday, March 25, 2004 at 12:22 p.m.

The president knew. Clinton fought "terrorism" by lobbing hundreds upon hundreds of cruise missiles into my home country-- Afghanistan. Richard Clarke, a heroic whistle-blower currently being targeted by the Bush Whitehouse as being a discredited "out-of-the-loop" bureaucrat has shown that if the lies and the ignorance get truly bad enough, and reach truly ignominious levels, that even those in your own ranks will rise up and speak out. Rice and Powell haven't because they're still slaves, Cheney didn't speak out because of his vested oil interests and corporate loyalties he must uphold disgracefully. According to Richard Clark, head of the working counter-terrorism group, a branch of the National Security Council of the Bush administration, the Bush administration did next to nothing to track down and neutralize al-Qa'ida, I quote:

"I find it outrageous that the President is running for re-election on the grounds that he's done such great things about terrorism. He ignored it."
-Senior advisor Richard Clarke

The Bush administration is encountering heavy difficulties and numerous obstacles in their attempts to smear and discredit Richard Clarke due to his heading the counter-terrorism working-group of the Bush Whitehouse. Clarke was also the premier terrorism-advisor to the previous Clinton Whitehouse, which only further adds to his credibility. As far as credibility faults are concerned, Clarke has none. he must be taken for his word specifically due to his experience and his non-partisan position-- if he were partisan why would a deeply conservative Republican administration retain him after the Clinton Era but not only keep him, but also retain him at the rank of the head of a working-group? His credibility is nigh bullet-proof which why the entire Bush administration's rank-and-file have been churning away and burning the midnight-oil in trying to find something to use against him-- but it doesn't end there. Slave Rice and Powell, including Master Cheney have all done the morning TV talk-show circuit in trying to put a dent in the justice-juggernaut that Clarke, a company man-cum-whistleblower, represents. Also, Clarke has claimed that atleast three times the Bush administration had a chance to neutralize the "terrorist" Usama Bin Laden-- opportunities that the Bush administration deliberately did not utilize. Their claim in excusing themselves from responsiblity during all of this was that killing him then would simply not have stopped 9/11/01 from happening, that the wheels were simply spinning long before these three distinct chances arose for the administration to prove that it had fortitude against "terror." According to Clarke, there was neither horizontal nor vertical integration of either resource or intelligence and this further exacerbated the dire state of affairs the Bush administration faced when confronting the al-Qa'ida network-- made dire by the administration's own incompetence. In all of this-- a truly lethal blow is dealt to the lie that the Bush administration is peddling as its new re-election campaign slogan-- fighting terrorism.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 24, 2004 at 08:13 a.m.

Spring recess is absolutely without any doubt precisely what I needed. Some stress-free time with the lady. Finally had the internet link established this morning with the help of a dandy cable provider guy who came in and changed out the NIC card-- gratis. I thanked him and offered him some of our fine upstanding cream soda to which he odiously declined to sample, which was met by great umbrage on my part. At any rate, those goddamned and godforsaken Zionazi trash finally did it. They killed a crippled little 'ole Sheikh. Today marks the day a great man and a greater leader of the popuar resistance was assassinated by cowardly European filth who diseased the purer lands that are ominously called 'the territories.' Those spineless backstabbing heaps of excrement fired rockets at his humble Gaza home where he was present-- he died instantly and I hope felt no pain. For this the Resistance will fully and with no restraint deliver counter-battery in kind and in response for such an underhanded and foolish act. The Israelis claim they want peace yet with their American supplied helicopter gunships they fire rockets into populated civilian areas to kill but one crippled man. Shiekh Ahmed Yassin will be remembered and for his death a multitude of Israelis will die and many more beyond that will now have wash over them blood red waters from the fountain of suffering, a fountain they have made others drink and wash in. Hamas has laid partial blame on the shoulders of the US for this attack, as well. While it may please many a Zionist-- "Christian" or otherwise to finally have this man dead, they should know that for this many an Israeli Occupier ("chosen" people) will die and this day should mark a bit of sadness for these Zionists as Hamas will retaliate and the ideological dick which all Zionist Christians suck --Judaism-- shall have its followers perish in response to this. May the blood flow.

posted by qalam on Monday, March 22, 2004 at 12:16 p.m.

You know, it's a real bitch to have to take someone to the cleaners over the fact that yes, I can write a children's book if I wanted to-- not beyond my capacity. But that's exactly what had to be done. In the end I managed to coerce the fact out of the person, barely. It's a trivial rather humorous issue, what's all the more absurd and impossible to understand is the stubborn recalcitrance and insistence of the person to hold on to the point. More faith in god than in man, apparently-- which is absurd on its own merits and doesn't need my help to point out. C'est la vie. I'm tired: spent the day doing nothing quite strenuously, I'm exhausted and taxed.

posted by qalam on Thursday, March 18, 2004 at 09:29 p.m.

Although I was unable to attend the panel discussion itself, the conference held in the Zellerbach Auditorium did nonetheless satisfy one of my personal desires-- to shake the hand of Christiane Amanpour, Chief Diplomatic Correspondent of CNN, and Hans Blix the retired IAEA inspector. I feel so good right now-- like a cranked up roadie, almost.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 17, 2004 at 07:43 p.m.

The noble Iraqi moqawama has once more struck fear and terror into the hearts of Occupiers. Today the Mount Lebanon hotel in central baghdad was attacked and destroyed by a car bomb weighing in at approximately five-hundred kilos. It was loaded with munitions (artillery shells) and plastic explosive. The explosion left a 20-foot crater as the hotel erupted into flames. The blast killed 28 and injured atleast 40 other people in the vicinity. The hotel commonly referred to as the 'Baghdad hotel' was home to American officials, journalists and frequented by US military and coalition personnel. Occupation will not go without resitance, and that resistance will be without mercy.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 17, 2004 at 01:54 p.m.

Those who executed the strike against the Spanish collaborators have turned out to be three Morocans and two Indians. This information has been revealed by specific material (phone cards) found at the site of one undetonated device. May those who have carried out the strike be driven by pure righteous zeal and those who incurred their wrath bury their dead disgraced and regret and be sorrowful for the actions that their government took that has visited upon them such grievous chastisement. For those who deigned to interfere in affairs of no concern to them, rather than play their own games of domestic politics and intrigue; they chose to make the business of others their own business and for it, they have suffered. Ninety percent of Spaniards opposed the involvement of Spain in the invasion of Iraq, yet their nation-- their leaders did not listen to their desires, their calls. For this, the blood of those very civilians has flooded out of their bodies as shards of metal tore and ripped through them-- as blown-out pieces of glass tore lacerations across their collective face. This is the price their nation has payed for collaboration, and they were bought off by the Americans to be involved, and I surely hope now that it is clear for all peace-loving nations of the world to see what price is to be payed for going along with Americans in their imperialist designs for and on the Middle East, and that such actions do not go without bloody retaliation. In one pocket American money is firmly planted for involvement in invasion, and out of the chest, blood pours in response for that action. May they bleed, and those leaders and elites who sold out the will of their population, have in them remaining enough dignity to be men, and kill themselves for such humiliation, dishonour and death that they were responsible for having brought to bear against their own people. But, no, these are not men. These are politicians, these are dogs, they fear death like a drunk fears sobriety. They continue to find reasons to bury themselves deeper in crises of their own making, as it shields them from an even uglier reality which awaits them. Unlike the foolish and idiotic Spaniards, the Turkish government did listen to its people and did not contribute in any way to the illegal invasion and occupation of Iraq, despite American attempts to bribe their complicity and assistance-- to the tune of over 50 billion dollars, US denomination, for even symbolic assistance. But the Turks, wisely refused, and only now do the Spanish and the world, know why. To prevent death-- to prevent the awakening of a horrible wrath from its quiescence from within the borders of their nation. To prevent terrorists from finding in their crosshairs-- the Turkish nation, as they found Spain in theirs. May the world heed the Spanish Example, and hear their populations when they vote and make known irrefutably their desires for peace, for if they do not, they will suffer. They will suffer and pay a horrific price for things that could have easily been averted if only the world had enough fortitude of morality to resist American strong-arming and bribery.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 16, 2004 at 09:29 p.m.

I find there to be a certain elegance in refined simplicity, and that, thankfully, is what I have achieved with these final site-modifications. Small pleasures, note bene. My mid-terms have been completed and I look forward to, as noted by my enthused love--poopy, a nice quiet Spring recess. Also if I may, she just saved precisely US$20.98 while shopping. I think that's great. It's wonderful. Small pleasures. The joy of a woman in saving money I feel to be one of those eternal joys on par with indulging in the sweet scent of a rose under morning dew. It just and quite simply-- is.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 16, 2004 at 04:53 p.m.

I've owned my .45 for some time now, and I think it's nigh about time to give her a name. I choose Jane. Jane signifies a rugged dependability, yet exudes in the deeper recesses of language, a sense of harsh romanticism. I, being a man, do these sorts of things. I fear Jane might be a common name for what she is, yet something foreign or exotic would imbue her with something more or less than what she is, and doing so would deviate from the aim of conferring a true sense of self, a true identity-- to her. Jane, you see-- is an expression of who she is, and I give voice to her expression through a lens of my own sense and belief. A lens which should be removed for that voice to be clear and true to her nature. My greatest fear is that she be named Jane when she is a Samantha Troudeaux, French impressionist, or something comparable. This is the truly difficult task yet seemingly exceedingly simple matter which faces me, and smiles. I only hope that as my thoughts effervesce into form through my fingers, they express not only the meaning of Jane, but my meaning in writing about her and my exertion in pursuit of doing this matter justice. A duality of concern is the nature of the problem I illustrate-- can you even conceive of it? It's deafening in its roar of seeming inconsequence, yet it whispers of concrete palpable importance. Do you hear it? I do. The voice is Jane's. It is thus made so, she is Jane. My steel, cold, unchanging and powerful Jane.

posted by qalam on Sunday, March 14, 2004 at 09:01 p.m.

Well, at least 11 people were killed and 20 others were wounded today in two suicide bombings in the Israeli port city of Ashdod. The two noble resistance groups, al Aqsa Martyrs Brigade and Hamas, claimed responsibility. Immediately after the assault, the Zionist entity announced the cancellation of a planned summit with Palestinians to discuss the so-called "peace process" i.e., the negotiation for more Palestinian land. At anyrate, my baby just left to drive back home, we spent the weekend enjoying some of what she termed "urban camping" and I had the .45 incase anyone decided to make an issue of it. Drunk college kids, bums, thieves, vandals, punks, the list goes on and on of the people I would gladly liquidate on-site had any of their ilk decided to disturb our peace and quiet or love-making, goddamnit. A man takes this seriously, one doesn't fuck around with me and expect to escape without some sort of injury-- especially when it comes to the time I spend with my kiwwy cat.

posted by qalam on Sunday, March 14, 2004 at 01:37 p.m.

Seems as of late the Spaniards had one put to them by the armed wing of the Batasuna. Serves them right for allying themselves with the power responsible for launching an unprovoked and illegal invasion, not, ofcourse that it had anything to do with that. Ahem. About 190 dead, not too shabby for a strike. Long live the Basque lands and her fighting sons.

posted by qalam on Friday, March 12, 2004 at 02:40 p.m.

Woke today, in a shitty mood and unable to trust anyone, being given explanations from people that never add up. I feel a general emptiness, and dis-satisfaction with things people claim I have, and with things in general. I feel alone and I'm wondering if I'll ever know true love and trust at the same time, as I don't know those two things at once, right now. I probably will sooner or later, one day, but not without leaving the relationship I'm in. I guess it's a vibe, I guess it's more. You never truly know people, no matter the length of time you've "known" them. New things always pop up, old things re-emerge. There's nothing really to say here of any substance, men and women live by two different agendas, and every now and then they cross. Beyond that, there's no emotional or intellectual parity or similarity. Perhaps that is why men find true friendship in fraternitie and women find it in sororitie. We prefer each others company due to agendas like reproduction and emotional satisfaction, but not for friendship. That's what brotherhood and sisterhood are for. We need them to reproduce the species, they need us for emotional and physical reasons. A truly gross set of exchanges and promises, truly not utopian in any way. Quid pro quo I suppose is what it all amounts to. They'll never be happy with us, and we'll never be happy, or trust them. At any rate, mid terms minus one are done, and the one coming up should be a no-brainer, I've already seen the prompts and feel any preperation to be unecessary, it's straightforward enough. It's essay format, same as the rest, some definitions, et cetera. From here on out I'll be coasting until the end of the semester, roughly a week's time away. Then I get to play with my gun. Yay. Men will be men.

posted by qalam on Friday, March 12, 2004 at 11:03 a.m.

Decreased the font size of the paypal beggathon, can't be garish about it. Took a dump. Took a midterm. Wish I took some Vicodin. One more midterm to go before I'll be all done with the written cock-sucking and clit-massaging it seems these godforesaken Berkeley professors seem to live on, they're almost like ego-parasites. Bought a new supply of cookies and Teddy Grahams, since I need brainfood. I've noticed the Teddy's make shitting lots easier, probably due to their granular nature. Done chatting with Wess, who's consumately shit-faced drunk, needless to say I was doing most of the chatting a la "Wess, is anyone with you?" or the more common "Is your girlfriend taking care of you right now?" Poor old bastard responded with slurred chatter. He could've been afloat in an ocean of ethyl grain 200 proof and he'd still have more alcohol in his blood than in the ocean. Can't blame him though, no shit to do in OC, it's dead, in every respect. Even the people are dead, they just don't seem it because they talk and walk and generally exhibit the behaviors of living organisms-- but don't let that bullshit fool you, they're as dead as a fool with a clip's worth of .45s lodged in his brain. Dead. No life. More water and semen and life on Mars than in OC.

posted by qalam on Thursday, March 11, 2004 at 09:21 p.m.

The US in Afghanistan-- blundering around has killed countless Afghans in its pursuit of "terrorists" and as of yet has yet to turn up but a single person responsible for 9/11 in any way. Instead it attacked the Taliban which had no connection to 9/11. Then it attacked Iraq, which had no connection to 9/11. In blind stupidity, the people of this nation have been lead down a road of perfidy, by leaders who could care less about them or their interests. Random acts of war and invasions are proof of this. When will the US leadership ever learn that its actions are criminal, and that it's own people are not beyond the reach of retribution's wrath? Must more die to prove the point al-Qa'ida has made?

• Dec 2001: 65 killed in bombing of convoy of tribal elders
• July 2002: 48 killed when bomb hits wedding party
• April 2003: 11 killed by bomb in village of Shkin
• Dec 2003: Nine children killed by bombing in Ghazni Province

posted by qalam on Thursday, March 11, 2004 at 04:15 p.m.

I don't think people value the true joy that comes with tearing down flyers that don't reflect their own political persuasion. It's quite a liberating experience. I just tore down about seven flyers entitled "Birthright Israel" that were offering a free ten day trip to Israel--and not too long ago I tore a few down that were related to an "Israeli dance troop." I went all up and down the dorm, all eight floors, and I tore them all the hell down. What can I say? Someone might be tempted to go to Israel, be attracted to the arab land they see and stay, brand themselves Israeli and take up the Zionist banner. Now, we can't allow that, so if in some small way, my tearing down flyers might prevent that, then hey, I did it, and I'll continue to maintain that policy whenever I see filth like that strewn on the walls.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 10, 2004 at 12:23 p.m.

The noble Palestinian militant Abu Abbass has died today. The noble fighter passed away into the annals of martyrdom in Iraq-- of natural causes. He spearheaded the Achille Lauro hijacking whereby with his own hands one wheel-chair bound Zionist was executed by being pushed over the edge of the boat, into the sea. Abu will not be forgotten by myself, or those like me, his aims were just, his cause an ideal one-- his actions necessary and forced upon him by Zionism itself. He was at the vanguard of the Palestinian Liberation Front and took part in a multitude of operations against the Zionist Occupiers. His memory will be cherished, may heroes in the making born today live up to his aims and means as he himself lived up to the aims and means of those who came before him. May he rest in peace. May the Earth he be buried in, be warm, and the winds above his final resting place, be gentle. A martyr has passed today. I would also like to add on a tangential note, and I feel by writing this in the same post as the above that I'll be staining the memory of a martyr, but this is of a personal matter-- fidelity finds its roots entrenched in sexual history. That however does not mean that every instance of infidelity, that the adulterer has a history of unfaithfulness, it just means that the person has that history in about 90% of cases, which is a majority, to my line of thinking. Furthermore, as far as Muslim Africa not thanking god for their executioners, they have none. AIDS is predominant in Christian Africa, not Muslim Africa, look it up for yourself. Onwards now, to the remark "To the question of a slut ever becoming a trustworthy person: Why was this person untrustworthy to begin with?" is a question that defies logic. That person is untrustworthy because they sold their own sanctity out-- whatever the reason, that's why. To ask even ask a question with an answer so obvious concerns me. The point is further made by declaring that to be a slut is to be defined by intent of acts, not number of acts. That's patently illogical and specious reasoning, a cop-out. If a person has had mind-numbing array of partners, the intent is obvious. To fuck. Period. Otherwise there wouldn't be so many partners, obviously. Thus the very nature of the question gives clues to the answer. The intent is defined by the number of partners. The more you have, the more a person is probably a slut. To the next remark-- "A person using sex for acceptance and love is not whoring themself out" is pure fallacy. That is the very element and nature of whoring yourself out. Using your sanctity as a base tool to get something you want is exactly what whoring oneself out means. To use what you have to get something you don't have. If it's a credit card, then you're a consumer, if it's your genitalia, then you're a slut or a whore. It's really simple. You're using your sanctity to get something, like your sanctity is a credit card, and not using it for its intended use-- to be used and enjoyed with love in one's heart with someone one loves. That is the essense of whoring your body out, there can be no dispute, the case makes itself. If there is disagreement in this regard, those most concerned over the issue are trying to save themselves from facing reality.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 10, 2004 at 09:44 a.m.

It's about damn time I did this folks-- in writing.
Folks, it's been a while since I've actually revealed to all of you, how I think-- about things. Now, I'm not talking about my politics or my favorite color here. You know the first revolves around throwing the Israelis into the sea, and the second revolves around the color blue. This isn't about that. This isn't trivial. I just got off the phone with my love and I felt that as far as my entries go-- they're lacking in a specific regard. Due to this, let me take a step in the direction of correction. In this spirit, I would like to define what a slut is, and how trust and love relate to sluttery-- if at all. I say "if at all" because this is just my subjective view of things. Let's proceed. The following exists in my Book of Things and apply whether you're male or female:

1. If you have ever had meaningless sex, or had it with
someone you didn't even know, you're a slut. I say
that because if you didn't know that person, it
logically means, it was meaningless. If you didn't
know the person, what possible meaning could that act
of sex have been based on? Exactly. None. No meaning.
Just logic folks, that's all. Use some.
Meaning doesn't count if you think meaning means he
or she just "looked good" or "hot."

2. You're a slut if you say each time you've had sex,
it was meaningful-- if you believe that
then you're an idiot and need to get a dictionary
that serves the non-slut community, you slut.
Because if you've had, say, a dozen partners or more
and still claim each time was meaningful then if that
were true then you would've stayed with that person
instead of gone out and around looking for more
dick or pussy. Right? Right.

3. If you're constantly horny or constantly find
yourself thinking about sex, that doesn't mean you're
a slut, it just means you should be watched so you
don't fuck up and become one, you are human after all.

4. If you've had sex with someone and knew their name
only after the act, you're a slut.

5. If men or women pay to have sex with you, it
doesn't mean you're a slut, it means you're a fucking
hooker and in all probability, also a fucking slut.

6. If you were a slut, and then found god and converted
to Islam or some other faith and you haven't felt a
dick or pussy since then, it doesn't mean you're not
a slut anymore, it just means you've gone into
retirement.

Now, to speak from my viewpoint, since I am male and straighter than a boxcutter's edge, what I'm about to say is obviously directed toward women. Here we go:
If you're a woman who's married, unmarried or divorced, with kids or without, and of a Western background, then you're a slut until proven otherwise. That's all there is to it. Your very nature, is suspect. There's a reason the world thinks Western women are sluts and whores-- because most are, and the rest would be if given the chance or the right man who hits on her or the right circumstance. Sorry you motherfuckers, I don't see too much porn coming out of the middle east, Muslim africa or Muslim Asia. It's a religious thing, because culture is rooted in religion, and American culture is slutty for the very simple reason that it's not rooted in faith at all, period. That's all I'm saying folks, and if you disagree with any of it, then in all probability, you're a slut. And if you're some Western guy who has a bone to pick with any of this, come get some-- I got a boxcutter waiting to smile in your face, motherfucker, or do you prefer a .45 down your throat like the dick you suck? Now all that aside, many people reading this will ponder the following:

"Geefuckingwillikers Batman, according to the wise sage who runs al-Yaqeen, can a slut ever become a worthy trusted woman?"

That depends. In order for that to happen, the very way a person, male or female, feels and thinks, must be changed. That's a hard thing, and a person has to be willing, and has to want it. Most, if not all, aren't willing nor desire that change. It's also due to all this, that I thank god for AIDS (like Christian fundy idiots, but for a different reason, they're bigots and hate gays, and I don't-- I just hate sluts, straight or not) because god knows how many sluts it's killed and how many more contracted it and don't even know it yet. I guess the best thing I can ever hope for, is that society fills up with extremely hot men who all have AIDS just to wipe out the female slut population who'd do them on the spot. And also, as a piece of advice to guys-- if you're entering into a relationship with a woman you think is a slut, follow these words. Get your blood tested before you have sex, so after things break up, and they probably will if she's a slut, and you check your blood again and realize you have AIDS or something else and your blood glows, you know the slut got you infected, and if she did, I'd be proud if you used my gun to blow her motherfucking brains out. God bless, and good night everyone, I'm passing out.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 9, 2004 at 10:35 p.m.

Think of the arsons! The people to burn! The homes to light afire and the clitorisis to burn off!!! It's arson season folks, it's sure hot enough outside, what better way to complement the goddamned heatwave than with my own fantastic Zippo lighter!!!! Take a good look at the blue flame, I've been working all day to perfect a perfectly stable blue flame within the protective metal sheath instead of studying for midterms, and I've finally done it!!! What accomplishment! What daring! What Berkeleyite achievement!!!

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 9, 2004 at 08:15 p.m.

Now, while the ladies duke it out-- I'd like to say a few words. There, I said them. Now, I'd gladly like to point out that if the parties, one of whom I dearly love-- would like to engage in a physical disagreement, I'd like to openly say that I'm all for that. I'll referee. I'll bring the mag and the .45, agreed?

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 9, 2004 at 05:27 p.m.

Goddamn it must be ninety fucking degrees here in Berkeley. Got Moby playing, laid back and waiting to get out and eat, have to get to class soon. Feeling introspective and moody. If I had a Zippo I'd burn your finger with it. I was thinking about going out earlier, but it's just too damn hot and I'm not in the mood to sweat and fuck around if I don't have to, not that I do any goddamn way, but goddamn, if I wanted SoCal weather--that's where I'd good and damn well be, SoCal. This entry isn't really about anything in specific, do I have to have a goddamned reason? No. I just want to go home to my baby and hold her jello gumdrop head in my hands and look deeply into her eyes and say "Yowuh knowah yowuh awuh a poopie, wite?" That's all I goddamn want to do goddamnit. I'm so fucking bored, if I could make the shit by the ounce as a liquid and piss it I could fill the sea of Galilee. My new mafia album is absolutely what I expected it to be. Bloody lyrics set to beautiful melodies, all poetry. Riddled with voices that fill you with a sense of timeless bottomless sadness and instill in your core a thirst to make it all right. Ofcourse, when you hear lyrics in Calabrian like "... and the sawed-off shotgun sung and split the traitor's heart." it's quite satisfying, a first for the volumes, as I have both, is Saveria, a female mafiosi who sings in one song to her infant son a cry, a melodic soft yet sometimes wailing hope that he grow up and avenge his father's murder. Real grim shit. It all probably explains my sunny outlook on life.

posted by qalam on Monday, March 8, 2004 at 01:54 p.m.

I posit to you ladies and gentlemen a rather intriguing concept with which I have become very familiar with in debating among my peers and myself at various stages of undress, dress, defecation, urination and or boredom.

The thesis takes its form as follows and my position will manifest itself clearly throughout.

Conflict is a natural process of existence, creation, evolution, and most relevantly-- political hierarchies and paradigms. In order to create order, disorder must be filtered, distilled and re-aligned into order. That distillation, filtration and re-alignment is through conflict. The organization and definition of a state, as defined by pre-eminent political theorists and scientists, is thus: a population with boundaries, a state governing apparatus, and a state governing apparatus that has the only existing (within the bounds of its sovereignty) monopoly on the legitimate application or use of violence/force-- think of armies and police forces. In other words, they can blow you away and deal with mere paperwork, and you can't blow shit away without having some serious connect-men to get you out or some serious fore-thought and planning to save your ass. Else you end up having hooks put on your wrists and get your cunny dragged off to be some bitch's ass-candy in the clink and get your daily ass-raping shit-shoved and have it defined by said system as "rehabilitaion and restitution." You see my point. Lovely.

Now, this all seems logical enough, so why do NGO's, supra-national entities and organizations feel so compelled to go into places and placate rulers and populations in the name of preserving peace or ending raging conflict? They feel compelled to do so out of illogical and ill-conceived political ideation and groundless, intellectually bankrupt analyses-- albeit, sound moral justification. That's what sanctions are and what the premise and aim of the UN is based on-- national and sub-national operations of interdiction and stabilization. Such morality and righteous conduct is justified-- it saves lives, but in the long term it only embroils parties into a conflict and adds a whole new layer and dimension of geo-political and sometimes economic complexities to an already unstable and often-times barely understood situation.

The argument can be and has been made that interdiction practices only exacerbate conflicts. Those who champion those arguments are correct in the theoretical long-term--in theory anyway--however in the here and now, conventional morality and human compassion requires us as human beings and in an organizational sense as NGOs and entities like the UN, to stop people from goddamn trying to wipe each other the holy high hell fuck out. So you see where the UN and organizations like it are stuck between a rock and a hard place? Good.

And no, I'm not trying to make a point, win an argument or joust-- merely elucidate on an often poorly understood series of actions that sometimes entities take that seem to defy common sense and accepted notions of academic-theory on the matter. Who's right? Who's wrong? Who knows. Lord know I really don't care. I just thought I'd give a little insight into something that's been a thorn in my mind's side for a while. Now, it's goddamn late so I'm going to sleep.

posted by qalam on Monday, March 8, 2004 at 12:16 a.m.

Just finished writing my ten page paper on the similarities and differences between the Soviet and British working classes. It's a fearsomely dry read, and the poor GSI who runs across it will surely note and attest to this with tear drops of blood gracefully falling from the ruptured capillaries of his eyes, upon my paper. Beautiful, symmetrical suffering awaits my poor GSI. It's ok. He'll live, really. I mean, he can only bleed so much from the eyes. Right? Right. It took about three or four hours in all, and I hadn't eaten the whole time, prior or during. I know, what terrible grotesque suffering. Only after the task was surely accomplished did I permit myself a blitzkrieg to the campus market on Sather Lane to obtain about 22 dollars worth junk food, ranging from ice cream (Ben&Jerry's), Zionist blood(Sharon's), Teddy Grahams (chocolate)to Pringles Chips (ranch-rageous and Spicy Cajun). Most glorious, and for those of you who haven't noticed the massive black lettering strewn at the top of this site, al-Qalam al-Yaqeen will now gladly be accepting donations to prevent my starvation and all too imminent demise. A dollar isn't much, is it? You Shysting bastard? C'mon now, don't make me threaten you, or take your virgin daughters away into the woods.

posted by qalam on Saturday, March 6, 2004 at 04:41 p.m.

Some images captured from my recent departure from John Wayne Airport, Orange County, CA. Some shots of general security, including an instance of a man being wanded and another instance or two of equipment being swabbed for a check through a scanner that detects explosives. I took these images rather discreetly and covertly (god bless trenchcoats.) However I noticed a woman who looked at me as I sat and took pictures during one instance and who then walked off in the general direction of security, fearing the woman might take it upon her sole person to be heroic, I proceeded to immediately put the camera away and take the disk out and place the disk in my back pocket--paranoia kicked in. When she got up and walked off toward security, I grabbed my backpack and walked off in another direction, which is why there are only five images, and not, say, a dozen. Believe me folks, if I didn't have a flight to catch, I would've continued taking shots. Needless to say, airports don't take kindly to people taking shots of their security procedures, especially if those people take the form of one person, for instance-- a brown man, who's unshaven, wearing a trenchcoat and black combat boots. Myself, in other words. Enjoy the pictures folks, I'm sure I nearly got arrested taking them.

posted by qalam on Friday, March 5, 2004 at 05:40 p.m.

I just fired off an email to some security notable requesting humbly a few things mentioned in previous posts. It's amazing what you get if you act confident enough, I'm sitting here typing away under a rather guarded gradute-student computing center. I boldly walked in, sat and began typing. No one stopped me, it was amusing to say the least given that before I made the same attempt timidly and was halted by some officer of the hierarchy inside the center. Should be starting a ten pager on Saturday and begin studying for a remaining three midterms on Sunday. Then I'll re-enter the doldrums until finals roll along. Jennifer Knap kitty cat? Poetry in lyricism abounds. :) Also seems I have my first site visitor from Israel. Lovely. Occupiers.

posted by qalam on Friday, March 5, 2004 at 11:30 a.m.

Egypt. It's old. It's dusty. It's populated by millions of brown people who speak a far cry from Spanish. It's where Sadat was shot, where Nasser launched a crusade of Pan-Arabist iedology which radically realigned geo-political thinking in the region and cast it in new light. Egypt, or in Arabic-- Misr. Egypt is where, at current planning stages anyway-- I'll be at the end of the year sometime. I'm still in shock, but if my lady wants to go to the land of Gama'a al-Islammiyeh, Ikhwan al-Muslimeen and Jihad al-Islammiyeh al-Mis'reen, then goddamnit by god, we're going to Egypt. I'll bring back some sand, lots of images and perhaps a few trinkets, like a Khanjar or something... At any rate, I look forward to the remaining midterms I have yet to tackle, as I summon the bullshit gods to look kindly upon me as a vessel of their supreme bullshittery so that from my fingertips leap sparks of resounding bullshit to be read by bullshitty professors who themselves have been endowed with the gift of lecture-bullshittery-- all so that I may get an A in all my classes.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, March 3, 2004 at 07:30 p.m.

Mid-terms week is finally upon me, like a jackal with teeth firmly sunken into the flesh of my ass, taking from me, one ounce at a time, my slut-bouncy assmeat. It is with this assmeat that I poo. Speaking of poo, my own poo, my very own poo, has written a post about the movie we both saw together explicating in exact detail and in specific account--the flaws she saw in the film along with biblical support; flaws which I noted and thought were odd as well even though I myself have only a limited and cursory knowledge of Christianity (they like crosses, like places called "churches" and enjoy handing out informative pamphlets.) One more glaring aspect of accuracy which my poo however did not mention, had nothing to do with historical biblical accuracy, but rather accuracy of another sort-- anatomical accuracy. Now all along I noticed this specific issue, however it only became glaringly obvious at the very end of the movie. The holes are in the blasted wrong places for god's sake. Now I surely hope I wasn't the only fellow who saw this movie and caught on to this little fact-fuck-up. Now I'm by no means the sharpest boxcutter in the arab jacket, but even I caught this fact. Anatomically, for a grown man's weight to be supported, the nails would have to be placed through the pre-wrist area-- where the ulna and radius join together into the wrist. The nail would have to be driven through here, and not through the more dramatized area of the hand. The flesh of the hand would be torn and bones dislocated for such a weight to be carried. The only place that could support the weight would be the wrists. Jesus knew this, because that's where he got the nails put through, and the Romans knew this because, well, they were the ones that nailed Jesus to the cross. So you see, it naturally follows that the two parties involved knew this--the nailee (Jesus) and the nailers (the Romans). This is the most blatant sort of innacuracy, surely even a minor theological difference of account can be overlooked here and there or elaborated upon as my own poo does, but to get the locations of the holes wrong--is, well... blasphemy. It is due to this that I can say with a good amount of confidence that the movie The Passion of The Christ served only to glorify the death of Jesus, and not necessarily serve the interests of biblical accuracy, well atleast they got the prophet right. It would've been terrible if Muhammad was the one nailed to the cross in a movie about the Passion of The Christ, so atleast old Mel didn't fuck up that badly, he got the right god-man-god, even though I'm sure most Christians if not the whole tragic lots worth of them would like to see Muhammad get nailed too, but that's not happening-- why? Because unlike all a y'alls, we didn't go goin' around pissin' off no Jews or Romans. But no, Jesus had to start up with the Jews, who run the whole damn world, and get the attention of the Romans, who don't mind killing Jews. That there's a bad combination folks, and I'm no psychic neither. Heh. I must say on behalf of the defense of almighty feel-good Satan, that in the movie, minus that one maggot in her nose-- that woo lordy! The devil was a hottie. I myself wouldn't have minded pounding that maggot-laden pooni. My angel and I spoke about this on the way back from the movie, she said the depiction of Satan was androgenous, and I agreed in so far as noting she had no hair, but hey, when a brother closes his eyes, that don't matter. I was gonna tell my lady that I would've banged Satan if Satan looked like the one portrayed in the movie, but I didn't out of fear of truly enraging my woman who would've immediately saw fit and proper to ask this question:

"So then, who's hotter? Me or Satan? Huh? Who?"

Now I hope everyone knows what my answer would've been. My lady. Why? Because woo lordy, that there woman can bring some pain on a brother somthin' fierce. Satan doesn't exist, so I'm not sweating that bitch, but my lady could if she wanted leave me sho' mo' hearty fucked up than Satan ever could. Ahem, now why this has turned into a self-bash, I don't know. What I do know, is the fact that with one 15/17 page paper out of the way, with my trusty .45 next to me as I wrote it, I can shit bricks of worry over three other midterms. I really wouldn't have banged Satan though, just imagine her responding to a question of where she was, late last night. She'd either say, if she's a good bitch "Crippin'" or "Betraying you." The latter of which woulda meant some fierce ho-beating that night. No mercy on that bitch, if she betrayed god, you ain't shit. Which means? I'da beat the undead shit out that bitch, make all sorts of maggots fly outta her mouth everytime she caught a right hook or an undercut... satan don't know me!!! I'll straight trip... shiyat... fuckers actin' like they know me... On an aside, six bombing took place over Muharram in Karbala and Baghdad killing about 85 and injuring hundreds of others-- for that, I hope they get their Sunni-kill on...

posted by qalam on Tuesday, March 2, 2004 at 05:34 p.m.

Saw the Passion-- exceptional. Flight back went pretty well and I didn't get motion sick as I usually do, something tells me I'm acclimating to flying... pictures soon to follow as I get the quirks out of the network my system is running on.

posted by qalam on Monday, March 1, 2004 at 02:15 p.m.

I just got off the phone a jizz-squirt's worth of time ago with my own special honeypot (does that make her a fly-catcher like they have in those mexican fruit bazaars? I hope not.) telling me she absolutely adored the last post and also couldn't help but insisting to make the point that my scenario a post below was theologically sound. Now if you're dumb enough to believe that, you should be taken out and shot. With a .45. Preferably mine. So I have the distinct pleasure and sublime knowledge of knowing my piece did your ass in. Anyway, it rained today. Lots. Some thunder and lightning last night which knocked the power out about four times, strangely, the thunder and lightening all took place after I posted the phone call in the post below. A correlation? Probably not. Don't get stupid on me folks. My gut's aching, I need to unload...

posted by qalam on Thursday, February 26, 2004 at 05:10 p.m.

I know goddamnit, I know-- this is my third entry for one day, surely a record no doubt, but the issue about to be addressed is of a most dire and critical nature. I just checked my daily CNN briefing and was appalled and enraged to see the filth behind these words:

President Bush announces he supports a constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriage.

I swear to god, goddamnit-- this illegitimate presidency will be the undoing of countless years of liberal progressive attempts at social change that've ever lead to vibrant culminations of tolerance-- ever. I swear all manner of deviant and blasphemous utterances, and yet still feeel utterly and consumately incapable of conveying how truly detestable, brutish, intolerant, backward and inhumane this presidency is, to even speak of the policies it wishes to enact, revolts the gut of maggots and causes insurrections of conscience in the most cold and black-hearted of people. This country was founded upon a secular nationalist identity, not a religious one, and that's precisely what this presidency wishes to imbue on such a fine and perfect document and nation, The Constitution, the USA-- a religious identity. Republican bone-headedness is not only that, but is also all-together bereft in equal measure of any semblance of intellegent characterstic or attribute, and it will truly, surely be the curse and scourge, as it is now and as it always has been-- the bane of progressive, tolerant human endeavor. Goddamn them. I save my most viscerally-felt and sincerest anger for those, those few yet genuine fools, who trifle with instruments of power and documents of institutions beyond their pitiful collective minds' ability to conceive, yet they dare to trifle. Ugh, what pestilence plagues this nation-- a pestilence of its own breeding, or inbreeding, rather. If ever in my 21 years of operational existence I have felt wrath, I feel it now, and for this presidency-- without doubt. If two people choose to be coupled it is not only incumbent upon the state to ratify documents pertaining to such union, but to respect it out of sheer acknowledgement of intrinsic human rights-- of peoples' happiness. However, this fiendish, this accursed and inhumane, beastial behavior, barbaric to its very core, and persons embodying it, have at their hands the reins and controls of the greatest nation, in principle if not always in action, that has ever graced the face of a planet. Truly, to step outside the scope of this travesty, as horrific as it is, one must realize the true gravity of current politicking. Ladies and gentlemen, we have let the monsters and bigots of our society, rule over us, lord over us, and look, look what fools-- they have made of us. I've never been so distraught at anything political as I am now. This is pure abomination of the highest degree, and of the first order.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 24, 2004 at 11:30 p.m.

A friend of mine up here was arrested earlier today on Telegraph somewhere and is currently being held for $US 5600 bail for impersonating a police officer. Apparently an actual police cruiser was parked parallel to where he pulled this stunt (oh, the irony of it all) and out of sheer blindess --I can only imagine-- he didn't see the actual squad car parked across the street. When he pulled this stunt apparently this squad car pulled a U turn in the middle of the street and arrested him on sight. He's well-off so I'm not worried about the bail money showing up but some folks just amaze you with their stupidity, I mean it glows, shimmers and shines, some folks' stu-ass-pidity, seriously, you expect that kind of nonsense, say, at some university in the South, but no--NO, it happens to a student at the premier public institution in this here fine land. Unbelievable... If you pull shit like that in plain sight of the popo --in public to begin with which is ballsy enough-- then you're pretty much asking to get nailed, put up on the wood and left there. Ah, the sights, sounds and people of this here fine upstanding Northern town of Berkeley. Makes me proud enough to cancel tonight's circle-jerk (whose center-piece is the visage of our fine, however illegitimate, president)...
almost.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 24, 2004 at 10:53 p.m.

It's recently come into my sphere of knowledge Karyel and other folks peruse my site. Enjoy. I'm embittered and ultra-political as the site shows, however if I wanted to "close doors and pull out blue prints of destruction," there aren't as many degrees of seperation between those that do, and myself, as you might comfortably, smugly, like to think. Stay comfortable. That's my advice. On an aside, my interest in photography has recrudesced and I find myself once more admiring the fine art of "the well taken photo," and it hearkens back to times I've seen the most tragic and heart-rending images taken of conflicts in Palestine and Chechnya and other places where either Occupation is being resisted or foreign armies repulsed by humble munadil and mujahideen attempting to retain sovereignty of their lands. Today was quite lovely-- overcast and ominous, evoking images of the galloping al-Buraq, the Prophet's steed bringing him to Jerusalem, perhaps also, anachronistically with Imam Ali's sword in hand, the noble Saif Thu al-Fiqar-- redeemer. How that should've nobly been caught in the lens of a camera, rather, god's eyes, it seems. An old arab poem translated:

How the seas and skies swirl and roll in tumult...
Out in the distance the clan Quraysh does battle with
the Prophet's followers, god strokes his beard, and one
day the sun will touch the earth.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 24, 2004 at 05:47 p.m.

The three day proceedings are set to begin at the International Criminal Court-- Hague. The Israelis will be shipping in a wrecked hulk of a bus that was obliterated by a suicide strike, to show the judges one result of successful Palestinian resistance against their Occupation, while 14 nations including the Arab League and South Africa will be defending the Palestinian case, Israel --notably-- will not be giving oral statements in response to Palestinian assertions during the proceedings for the very simple reason that any Israeli defense mounted will consist solely of Zionist propagnda and half-truths which the judges in their learned erudition will point instantaneously. Needless to say, those who oppose these proceedings have in their ranks the Americans, the EU and Israel. The EU opposes it as it wants to get back into America's good graces, the Zionists oppose it because their lies and land-grabbing maneuvering will be revealed and the Americans oppose it because, well, America is just an agent of Israel-- Prime Minister Ariel Sharon has admitted himself, and in public, this very fact, read as follows:

“Every time we do something, you [Shimon Peres] tell me
America will do this and will do that... I want to
tell you something very clear: Don’t worry about
American pressure on Israel. We, the Jewish
people, control America, and the Americans know it.”

— Ariel Sharon
Israeli Prime Minister
Knesset, Tel Aviv, October 3, 2001

"Everyone there should move, should run, should grab more hills, expand the territory. Everything that's grabbed, will be in our hands. Everything we don't grab will be in their hands."

— Ariel Sharon, as Israeli Foreign Minister, in comments
broadcast on Israeli radio, November 15, 1998.

Furthermore, I think it moot to point out that the Palestinians will be victorious against the Zionists in this arena, as well-- for as the Qur'an states, Truth thrown against the falsehood will shatter falsehood's core.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 23, 2004 at 12:46 p.m.

Yesterday, the al-Aqsa Supreme Martyrs' Brigades struck against the Zionist entity and those it harbors: The explosion ripped through the crowded bus at the height of the city's morning rush hour. The blast occurred on the number 14 bus in the affluent German Colony residential area of west Jerusalem at about 0830 local time (0630GMT) as it was waiting at traffic lights at an intersection. The noble fighter who testified was identified by the Supreme Martyrs al-Aqsa Battalion, as 23-year-old Muhammad Zaal (peace be upon him and his family) from the West Bank village of Hussan, near Bethlehem. The Resistance makes no distinction between occupiers based on age, race, faith or gender. The common argument leveled against such attacks is that they do not discriminate between civilian or military. Due to the fact that all civilians in Israel serve a two-year stint in their armed forces, they no longer have civlian status, therefore-- there are no civilians in Israel, due to this. Therefore an attack on a bus or civilian area, be it a cafe or mall, is a valid military strike carried out by Palestinian resistance detachments against Occupiers. I'm notably pleased.

posted by qalam on Sunday, February 22, 2004 at 02:34 p.m.

I can't wait to see The Passion of Christ with Autumn. It looks to be a very well-written movie, with excellent plot and structure, overall. Jesus Christ, the central character (Jesus-- the English name is a transliteration of the Greek name Lesous, which is a transliteration of the Hebrew name Yesua or Yehosua, both of which are transliterated in the Old Testament as Joshua in most English language Bibles. Jesus' name in Aramaic, the language the Jesus most frequently spoke, was Yesua. Christ-- the English word Christ is a transliteration of the Greek title Christos, which is translation of the Aramaic title mesiha and the Hebrew title masiah, which are transliterated as Messiah in most English language Bibles.) seems to be, as usual with Western media-- racially portrayed. He wasn't a suffering white blond man, but a suffering brown black-haired man, who was, to use modern terms-- a Palestinian Arab. Race is the only thing it seems the West continually harps upon as a factor and drive in the quest to define itself. It's quite sad, and shows the bankruptcy of the West as a whole in its inability to move past such a trivial and irrelvent concept, one which has no bearing on biology and exists solely as a divisive implement of Western thought to create biological distinction where none exists, and to create, as it has more successfully-- social distinction where none should exist. Mel-- whose parents are notorious anti-Semites and who've openly blamed 9/11 on the Jews --portrayed his savior racially, and in that light, if he chooses not to portray the very skin color of his saviour truthfully and honestly, how can one be expected to trust the substance of his project? Suffice it to say, if it were not for Autumn, I would be more disinclined to pay a visit to the theatre for this specific film. All of this must be taken into consideration when a person of Mel's social stature decides to take it upon himself the public rendering of a religion, he assumes a burden which he cannot bear.

posted by qalam on Saturday, February 21, 2004 at 05:42 p.m.

Finally got a webcam, perfect little piece of gear it is, too. Now I can use my Yahoo! account and webcam to speakeasy with my lady via her webcam. Small pleasures in life, ladies and gentlemen, small pleasures...

posted by qalam on Friday, February 20, 2004 at 05:04 p.m.

Israel has been building a "protection fence" for the last year or more along a route which marks the border between the West bank and Eretz Israel, and continues to build this apartheid wall despite international rebuke and outright condemnations by the Red Cross and many other humanitarian organizations. This is another clearly illustrated example of the attempts of Zionists to carry out a land grab of unheard of proprotions and prove to the world their devious and treacherous nature. They sign peace accords, and break them. They tell the world there is no theft of land, yet they build an apartheid wall. The Zionists claim the apartheid wall is designed to prevent suicide bombings yet they know full well, as would anybody upon critical examination of its structure, that this is well designed to upset natural migration patterns in the long term and in reality has no other purpose than to seperate and sequester a people from their land while it's being stolen and expropriated by little more than land- thief Occupation-terrorists. The latest egregious act Israel has perpetrated was the channeling of 22 million NIS into Gaza and West bank settlements when the Sharon government explicitly stated that money was going into the fund to help the poor. This is yet more Zionist hypocrisy and double-dealing. What else can I say?

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 18, 2004 at 10:47 a.m.

Just got a chance to write; I missed a flight earlier which was no big deal yet my angel insisted that she blame herself; in my mind, the fault lay on both of us. We should've known the holiday traffic that greeted me would've been truly disastrous, and it was. About five-hundred people, rank and file in winding rows of bio-mass awaited to have their bodies magic-wanded, x-rayed, to have their shoes removed, and x-rayed as well. It took about an hour, plus-- in total. In all of that I was tempted to extract my digicam and snap a few shots of the caucasian elderly being wanded before putting their shoes back on (as we all full and well know that al-Qa'ida's ranks are swollen by senile old caucasian men and women,) yet good sense (arguably sense of some sort) persuaded me that if I did pull out my camera, the fearsome and well-trained super-assassins and mega-sleuths of the HOMELAND SECURITY AGENCY would've surely swooped down upon me in a hail of black nylon cords dropped from the ceiling as I look up only to see a wall of black boot-soles greet me as they come smashing down in straight vertical columns and tackle me and my camera. Yes. The vaunted, and feared, HOMELAND SECURITY AGENCY. In reality, I was concerned over being told to put it away as they might think I was scoping security and feeding intelligence back to my handlers. Yes, that's it. I've been through airports many times and in many different places, some on the East coast, others here on the West coast and no matter day or night, or location, I believe I can rest assured in knowing that my safety is secure at the hands of these underpaid, un-educated, poorly-trained and unmotivated felons who wear these HOMELAND SECURITY patches/logos which are little more than an eagle superimposed just under an image of an American flag. I mean, damnit, the eagle doesn't even look angry, more like it's just bored and wants to get out of the pose it's been put in. The depth of security is about as thin as the muscle under the miles of fat on the bodies of these Homeland Security SS folks. Alas, digressions; below are images taken of the trip. A few of my angel's chocolate creations, a few of my piece in various states of readiness, and at the very bottom, a picture of what happens when you drop out of school, kiddies; also the undeserved near five-star meal the airline mistakenly served me rounding out the ten shots. Incase you're wondering, that piss-colored liquid is ginger-ale, trust me, it tastes about as good as what you thought it was before I said it was ginger ale.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 17, 2004 at 07:17 p.m.

I deign to admit in times long passed that indeed I haven't given enough time, thought and attention to a most urgent and pressing matter, I seek to redress this issue and bring about a cohesive resolution in this regard by adhering to my own advice and analyzing matters with their requisite and due regard. In this vein, a topic comes up, quite actually the object of what I plan to be a rather short entry (as relative terms go, you understand).

Why is it that across this small and insignificant globe of ours, wobbling through the cosmos, that people of the globe who are of the mentally impaired variety and otherwise deficient in any number of ways, and in this case in particular, an identifiable whole series of ways, feel that-- somehow in their junvenile stage of perceived self-maturity-- creating shoddy cartoons of things that don't quite make a great deal of sense on their own merit, are yet still somehow designed with the intention of bothering men like me?

I only give of myself time to write to this tit-for-tat game of tag which I've long since abandoned as it seems the person responsible finds it of the utmost necessity to aimlessly persist like a lost dog in an alleyway and, instead of getting a life and mature as a person-- continue to lay and rub the shit of her own stupidity into her own face through such pathetic, immature and outright intellectually weak and wholly mentally substandard displays and overall set of behaviors. My lovely and beautiful girlfriend, my queen, has noted her behavior quite rightly, as I duly note it, and we have since both moved on.

I cannot however, despite myself, seem to understand what degree of wholesale violence and probable drug abuse during this woman's gestation-period in her mother's womb would've led to such a dysfunctional, truly repulsive and catastrophic outcome-- a character, a person, arguably, --permit me the luxury of that assumption-- that tests the very bounds of the definition of savage grotesquery, as this woman does, to be disgorged into the world. However, as it stands, she plagiarizes wholesale the ultra-high caliber intellectual output of my site, (as her site lacks any thinking of quality) and I can't blame her. I write so well, so fluidly and eloquently, with grace if I may say, and yet she doesn't, in her jeolous fits of realization in knowing she will never have me, she falls back on copycat tactics of seven-year-old girls on the playground, as a matter of leisurely consideration-- she probably pulls the hair of persons she doesn't like, as well-- so she amounts to being something less than a pathetic nuisance yet an order of tactile observation above noticing flatulence, less than a speck of dust in anyone's eye, however and whatever the standard of measurement applied.

This is precisely why I've dedicated this as my last entry in this phase of my website in dealing with the stupidity--outright as it is in this poor woman's case-- of people. It is without a doubt, a failure of modern intelligence, birth control and morality to have allowed a woman of such poor quality, sub-human stature and gross deficiency, to survive as this woman has, past the third trimester of her mother's pregnancy. With this, I end the story of Nekhebt, and disavow the existence of such scat, and with an optimisitc eye toward the future, gear my mind away from the futility of reasoning with a mentally-stunted child, and develop into my own, truly refined individual, to which dealing with issues below me, does not contribute. On a final thought-- her response to this will no doubt be the rawest blurb of distortion and most dispicable act of cowardly plagiarism--as I expect nothing less from her. She is-- and I fear for my character to debase myself by saying this so crudely-- shit. The story has ended. I also make of my readers, loyal and worthy, a kind request: as of now, please no longer inquire as to the aforementioned and discussed matter, as it ends here, so should it too, end in your thoughts. May you all have a lovely day and I give of myself the warmest wishes for all of you over this coming Valentines Day holiday.

posted by qalam on Friday, February 13, 2004 at 12:27 a.m.

This is the most amusing, albeit strangest (hey, it is of Israeli origin, so we mustn't be too surprised) thing the Occupiers have, rather, will do, in their attempt to prevent the noble martyrs of Hamas, Hezbollah, PFLP, Jihad al-Falastini al-Islammiyeh from slaying their flesh in the places they rest and feel to be the most secure. Their discotheques, their malls, their public transport infrastructure-- they do not understand that where they will be struck next, has no bearing on the security apparatus installed by the Illegal Zionist Entity. It seems these dogs, these Zionists, these filth, these vermin unfit to be vomitted out of the mouth of rabid dogs, believe their lives will be spared if they hang bags of pig fat off walls, railings and other objects, mistakenly believing that somehow this has any bearing on Qur'anic injunctives to annihilate enemies during war. They do not understand the Islamic concepts of relative bearing during a state of war. In battle, in war, in conflict overt or fought by Islamic fundamentalist guerilla forces in the darkness through night-vision fitted telescopic sniper scopes peering at the faces of the next few dead Israelis, that if one Qur'anic injunction prevents an action or behavior necessary to carry out war that the more necessary injunctive in war is deemed to be of better Qur'anic authority. This is due to the fact that the preservation of the Islamic people overrides injunctions of lesser standing, as to what is halaal and haram in foods. This is what the mind of the dog cannot comprehend. That in war, the highest and most pressing of Qur'anic injunctions stand supreme. Survival of the Ummah al-Islamiyyeh. These filth, these Israelis, demonstrate their lack of understanding of Islam by behaving so foolishly, that I must comment, something must be done, something must be posted. It's far too laughable and rather sad and pathetic. This is a sign to the noble resistance forces and their loyal martyrs' detachments that the mentality, psychology and nerves of the enemy are frayed-- their thoughts desperate, their actions, careless. They are more vulnerable psychologically than ever to strikes by martyrs' units as this shows their level of misunderstanding of the enemy and of their fears. If a martyr chose to bypass this method, wearing gloves would render this new spiritual security strategy, void. The dogs in their fear did not think of this, perhaps they do not understand-- still, the depth of their wounds-- what fatal wounds. As these filth psychologically bleed out of their words, their very life blood betrays their confusion and panic with actions like these, spoken and stated, that these drops land on the ground, and attract martyrs, like sharks. Martyrs fear nothing. They fear only God. The Israeli torture cells, their prisons will not stop them. American weapons bought by the whore-cunt and cowardly Occupiers, will not free them of anything but-- their lives-- in an instant. The next time they board buses, these Occupiers, their sons, daughters, mothers and fathers, living and shitting on the land they stole, these filthy dogs, shall they know the pain and fear when Hamas demonstrates the purity of its divine presense, signalling their will in flashes of light. Purity proven through bursts of heat. Car alarms blare, bodies strewn about along with their parts. This is the voice that Hamas, among the purest, noblest of Islamic resistance fighters, speaks through. The voice of testament.
What fools.

posted by qalam on Thursday, February 12, 2004 at 07:26 p.m.

If only the stupid cunt Nekhebt would stop viewing my site if she hated me so much, but the whore still keeps on coming back, so what do we have here? A dumb lying cunt, who has no boyfriend because she's been dumped, and she's a loser. She's seen my site yesterday, and today:
11 February 21:34 Local Link USA, United States
12 February 09:22 Local Link USA, United States

posted by qalam on Thursday, February 12, 2004 at 10:13 a.m.

It's official everyone. Blue is my favorite color (and flavor.. yes, flavor) of jello.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 11, 2004 at 06:41 p.m.

How dumb a bitch is when she think's clams would be happy at higher tides, is unbelievable... some idiots just never go away,
I love it when people read my site who claim to hate me and detest me an all that I stand for. From now on I'll post anything anyone responds to that I've said on this site:
---beginning---
I find it curious that certain persons feel they have the right to steal my logo and information from my site and post it on their own. From this point on, any time someone sends me hate mail and posts hate blogs referring to me, I shall post them so that others can see what type of idiots persist to stalk me: -------- beginning of hate rant sent to me -------- On an aside, it seems the whore and cunt and general sub-human female dog Nekhebt ripped off not only a post of mine, but my fat lady's post as well. Can she be any more of a loser? I mean really? Can she? I assert that she cannot further dig deeper into the trench of pathetic-stalker-bitch-loserdom than she already has. I mean, she's already dug her way up into China already. Maybe some pointed chop sticks into her eyes would allow her to better, ahem, visualize my displeasure. Perhaps better yet, if I took a cigarette to her clitoris and burned it off, perhaps then, would she realize in her screams, the depth of error, in her ways. Alas, she'll go on through her life, being dumped by one boyfriend after another as they all realize how much of a loser she really is. Oh yes, Nekhebt, Vulture-Whore, goddess of the Rosacia cult. -------- end of hate rant sent to me --------
---end---

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 11, 2004 at 03:01 p.m.

It seems I've made friends with the United States Department of Justice, as they've been reviewing my site over the past two days and probably before then due to complaints or for whatever reason. Or maybe yet, I'm expanding my fanbase into the Land-o-Justice. On an aside, it seems the whore and cunt and general sub-human female dog Nekhebt ripped off not only a post of mine, but my lady's post as well. Can she be any more of a loser? I mean really? Can she? I assert that she cannot further dig deeper into the trench of pathetic-stalker-bitch-loserdom than she already has. I mean, she's already dug her way up into China already. Maybe some pointed chop sticks into her eyes would allow her to better, ahem, visualize my displeasure. Perhaps better yet, if I took a cigarette to her clitoris and burned it off, perhaps then, would she realize in her screams, the depth of error, in her ways. Alas, she'll go on through her life, being dumped by one boyfriend after another as they all realize how much of a loser she really is. Oh yes, I'm Nekhebt, Vulture-Whore, goddess of the Rosacia cult.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 11, 2004 at 01:55 p.m.

La Illaha Ilallah, wa Shahid Habibullah.
Today marks the anniversary of the Iranian Islamic Revolution. Many Shi'a, Afghan like myself, Arab, Persian, honour the revolution and a few friends and I celebrated it before classes today with a toast to the Khomeinists who launched it and brought to the center front, globally: Shi'a regional dominance in all affairs economic, military and social. We all look forward to future developments from the Persian front, and seek to empower it by whatever means.
Bismillahir Rahmanhir Raheem.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 10, 2004 at 11:33 p.m.

It strikes me as something noteworthy, to mention this: Sometimes those who don't know me, like Sarah, Nekhebt, and people like the one who sent me that hate-mail, see a very one-sided aspect of who I am, in how I post and what I decide to post about. It's understandable, ofcourse, I get it. What people like these don't seem to understand, is the purpose of the site. It's an outlet for me to vent what I see wrong in the world, and I get a lot of flak from the aforementioned three people, Sarah, Nekhebt, and the person who sent me the hate-mail-- because I focus alot, mostly, if not totally on the shortcomings of American foreign policy and I lavish praise on those whom uncover it, myself or others. It's my right to be a sonofabitch, and an asshole, it really is-- however my writings are lopsided in scope and subject for the reasons I already stated-- I vent. In the email, as readers will view below in the post before this-- I'm accused of being a terrorist, a towel-head, the general theme being that I'm an asshole etc., I understand people disagree with what I say and so forth, but they should be under no illusion as to the fact that I will continue to write about whatever I choose, and with any irreverent attitude I choose. If those who have a problem with it want to challenge me, to change my views, or for them to feel they were right over some argument, then let them challenge me on an intellectual level: something Nekhebt and Sarah are incapable of doing, it seems. This person who emailed me may be able to challenge me intellectually, but he chose simply to be juvenile and cast cliches and laughable insults which told me he's just another irate reader, like a legion of others. But those who hate what I write about, and who hate me, do surprise me-- they keep reading what I write, -- surprise surprise, because no matter how much they hate me and what I write, they come back because I write superbly, passionately, humourously, and generally, like no one else can truly do, that's why they hate-- but still read me. As for the person who emailed me, I have deliberately withheld his name in the interests of preserving his safety, and identity. That's what makes me a polished professional, and a high-caliber human being, two things Sarah, Nekhebt and others who attack me-- are not.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 10, 2004 at 05:03 p.m.

I got my first piece of hate-mail today everyone and I nearly toppled over myself in a rush to get it published!!! Here it is folks!!! Apparently he thinks I store my weaponry in my dorm, and I also feel the slober of Nekhebt all over this one, people, 20 bucks says that cunt has something to do with this, all of which I find greatly amusing. He also seems to think he knows what floor I'm on or what dorm I'm in or believes I have some pre-occupation with viewing his science building, which is a laff and a haff. Wait wait wait, this could either be a Nekhebt-cunt related issue, or a Sarah-related issue. This is great, I'm not even a divorced man yet and I have a healthy group of women who hate me and some Berkeley dude, I feel so honoured. Furthermore, I think he's full of shit in saying he accidentally stumbled across my site and I think Nekhebt or Sarah gave him my site addy, FYI to readers.
---beginning of email---
I was surfing the net and somehow stumbled upon your site. I noticed that you live in Reshall Hall. It seems that you live about 5 or 6 stories up and can see the Science building. First of all let me say that there is no way to explain all that is wrong with you. Your attitude for America must be based on some fantasy that you have created in your tightly wrapped towel head. On your website you mention that you have rocket propelled grenades and ak-47s in your dorm room. No real terrorist would have things like that lying around. I think that your really want people to believe that your something your not. Your horrible statements about America, women, and life in general are just cries for help. You are a scared little child from over seas acting out. Then again, it could just be that towel on to tight. The comment about women from Berkley being sold as slaves is pathetic. Do you take pleasure from making such stupid statements? Oh, and using staples and tape for your thesis, well thats about as retarded as you are. If America is just so terrible why are you here? If your country is so good why not go back. Oops, I forgot we blew it up didnt we. Your feeble website is a joke and can accomplish nothing but laughs from the American public you so hate.
---end of email---

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 10, 2004 at 04:26 p.m.

Another post from Sarah, this one is a real gem, people. In the millieu of twisted thought, grounded in bitterness, emerges the architecture of perfect insanity, and it follows:
---beginning of email---
Parwaiz, what is all that jealous rubbish about the kinkos? When you get your bachelors and have a regular job, you'll be able to afford to get stuff published. I was broke when I was a junior too. You can use a muslim publisher. So Parwaiz comes with the "Sangue Onuri" and the blade. And the victim, the maiden says "you think you can kill me. You're the one who is already dead. The beauty and normalness of the world doesn't exist for you. You always live in darkness and in a hell of your own making. You'll never be able to come out. You can kill me but it wont make a difference, I'll always live on because of my writing. Not to mention the fact that my people breed like bunny rabbits and people with my genes will be freaking everywhere, even despite the fact I don't have children." Another son of Afghanistan, couldn't amount to anything more than being another killer. That would be the fate of all Afghan men, even if they were living in far off America. The desolate rocks and blood of Afghanistan would always control them. And like some kind of ending spiral, they would all do the same thing again and again with no form of escape and without being able to get anything else out of life. While the maiden's people- those indians- contributed to civilization with buddhisim and culture and stuff. The guy with the blade would never understand that instant karma would get him. That if he treated people badly, the same exact thing would happen to him in return. Every insincere "Dostit darum" that came from Parwaiz's mouth after which he laughed behind the maiden's back, telling others she was a lunatic or kook for believing him, trying to humiliate her by advertising her emails... Well every "dosit darum" that might have been insincere, on his part, opened up gates of civilization for the maiden, as she discovered a wonderland of beautiful words and language. The dark desolate side of everything existed for him. The beautiful side of everything existed for her. Her death at his blade, for her resulted in freedom and her soul flew through far off galaxies, faster than space ships, exploring and discovering beautiful things. But he remained on earth, just another resentful, angry Afghan with a blade.
---end of email---

posted by qalam on Monday, February 9, 2004 at 12:53 p.m.

Sometimes one must should wonder about the root of all conflict and disagreement. I, like many others, have come to the simple conclusion that it lies in the mere fact that a single instance, or event, can be interpreted in millions of many ways. I was accused of being insensitive. I was may have been, and I acknowledge that. This is a two-way street. Where I have been accused, there is the weight behind accusations accusers themselves must bear, and are guilty of, as well. It is not my intent to waste time: where guilt exists, it is admitted and addressed, I expect the same from those with whom I deal, and I feel I'm getting the vile and fucked over raw end. Where some see evil, I do not, and where others do not see evil; I do.

posted by qalam on Saturday, February 7, 2004 at 06:48 p.m.

I just realized something truly ghetto about myself.
As my mind wanders from one savory topic to the next, such as joining the International Brotherhood of Ivory Poachers (their motto: "There's more where that came from..."), or considering the profitability of ethering female students at Berkeley, then hooking them on narcotics, and selling them to an Eastern European mafia outfit that beats them daily and rents their cunts for a paltry sum to greasy Italian business men at a rate of two euro-an-hour (I have considered this)... my mind slowly focused and narrowed in on what was truly ghetto about me: I realized that when the day came to write my Masters or Ph.D thesis, I wouldn't go to a Kinko's or a CopyMax and have them put it in a nice glossy cover, with black spirals and good binding, NAY, I would take all those many fifty some odd pages, and staple them together. With one staple. That's it. And hand it in. Why you ask? You ignorant fuck? Don't ask why, ask why not. That is the question, you cunny-poking crack dealer.
This is why you money grubbing cunnies:
1. The Zionists run the world, so it only makes sense
that they might run the local Kinkos and thereby have
the opportunity to fuck up something about my thesis.
2. Relative expense. I'm not loaded, and I won't spend
a goddamned dime on a goddamned thing if I can goddamn
avoid it.
3. The pure simplicity of the act. One, maybe two clicks
of the stapler, and I'm done. Now, how I'll shove fifty
pages into a stapler, is a mystery. This is where
duct tape comes in. I shall staple, and duct tape.
Yes, this is how it shall be done.
4. Read #1.

posted by qalam on Saturday, February 7, 2004 at 12:04 p.m.

Back after a class, god I do so very much love the weather up here. The birds chirp in tones chillingly crisp, the wind swirls with purpose, the clouds form with intent, the idiocy of professors here more clearly manifested in noise than the scent of a rose, in fragrance; like a glass rod shattering, ear-splitting, god is deafened. The odor of chinese food slithers through the air like a diarrhea-dragon, a serpent of impending excessive toilet paper-consuming doom, a portent of sorts. Exigency of matters are brought into sharp relief as terrors strike into the heart of the constipated. They see the dragon. The poo-dragon. I see the dragon, however I don't chase it like a man opiate-enamoured, rather, I chase her, that dragon, through the eyes of a cold, dead assassin, who's still breathing. His fingers are ice-cold, his eyes piercing, his soul frozen, his heart black, his intent-- unwavering. His blades are his hands. His every footstep, a testament to vengeance. His fingers, each, a means to their own ends. His allegiance-- to none. His rage, for all to suffer by. His legacy-- blood, and honour, scars men. His mouth, having uttered no word for thousands of years, creased in half, now split, his voice breaks-- "Sangue Onuri" in whispered Calabrian. Lifting his blade, they knew his meaning. Those sinners, those transgressors; to those who never understood why such death sought them. He spoke of blood spilled and of ancient honour lost. You're still confused. The look on your face bespeaks either terror, or enlightenment. He lifts his blade to your face, he says again, the second refrain spoken in aeons from his breath, he breathes it once more, for your sake alone, so that you might understand: "Sangue Onuri." Your eyes glance down to catch his reflection off of his blade, colored red. The red of those before you, spilled. The knife is to you now, Sangue Onuri. Blood is your judge, honour is the balance by which your fate shall hang. The blade is to you now, your throat is slit, yet you still do not understand. Blood and Honour, their judgements final, their authorty-- absolute. You fall, throat slit, he did it for neither fame nor glory, fortune nor favour, his words defined his action. Sangue Onuri. Your throat is slit, you smell roses, your eyes close, your last breath escapes you, now you know. In a flash of reflected light off the blade of this man, you understand. He came to bring you life, but you turned him away. He returned, his final time, with a timeless message. He said it once, nay twice, nay thrice as your lifeless body hit the floor at his feet. He puts his hands down, his fingers to his side, fastened in its leather sheath. He released you, but with the voice your soul thanked him through remains silenced, slit, on the floor, he needs your thanks, not. As your Sangu pours down to your hands, washing them of ancient sins, your Onuri, he returns to you. You died standing, now you have honour. He came to wash your hands of blood, by spilling yours atop those that spilled the life of others, and to return to you the honour you took from others, by letting you die, standing. Yet you fought him, did you think you could win? Ancient curses uttered, ancient forces shuddered as he stood. For even they knew, he was of no natural birth. An angel of death, he may be, an angel, nonetheless, he his. His wings spread open, as your last drop of blood, falls from your fingertip. He slew, to restore, you thought he came to take, when he came to give. This is Blood, and this is Honour. Restoration of fools-- unworthy, unawares-- their blood their only redeemer, shown to them, theirs, spilled before them. They try to scream, they're mute, why should they? They are the dishonoured, those who've betrayed blood. It keeps pouring. It keeps restoring.
Sangue Onuri.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 3, 2004 at 04:18 p.m.

Seems like I finally cast off that parasite that runs Nekhebt. Thankfully, realizing that my shit was as serious as an angry clown with an Uzi. Now my life can progress normally without too many hiccups and kooks trying to talk about subjects they have no education in, to even have a viable opinion regarding the matter.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 2, 2004 at 08:35 p.m.

My poli. sci. GSI was a no show for this morning's class goddamnit. May he, and all that he knows, be struck down in a flailing whirlwind of angry students' fists and then drown in vinegar, goddamnit.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 2, 2004 at 09:01 a.m.

My ice cream. I see you looking at it. Your eyes filled with lust. Why must you lust after my ice cream? Do you seek its creamy deliciousness? Does it tear at you inside, perhaps, in knowing that you can never place your tongue upon my ice cream? It must drive you mad, looking at my ice cream. As I hold it upright as a symbol of my creamy power, are those your knees I hear trembling, or perhaps your teeth gnashing in envy? I do hear them, you know. Look at it, wide at its head, creamy and swirly, with it's drippy white tip, why must you lust after my ice cream? Why? It disturbs me so that it perturbs me greatly, so, so much so, why, I can't help but to ask, why dost thou lust after my thick, creamy, swirly, ever so sweet ice cream? Does knowing that you will never be able to hold it in your hands and squeeze it, spilling the chocolate and vanilla swirliness all over your hands and licking it all up, enrage you? How you will never be able to place, while holding its sides, the creamy sweet goodness into your mouth, and suck from it sweet ice cream solace. It defies you, you know. It defies you with the utmost strength to be found nowhere but in its strongest swirl, the strength to fight off your ever encroaching mouth. So, must I ask once more, my final time indeed good lass, why dost thou, lust, lust, lust after my ice cream?

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 4, 2004 at 06:11 p.m.

Another post y'all, and I just finished writing a paper due about a month from now, damn is my shit nuttin'.
---beginning of email---
The whole thing is too much odd drama for me. I don't want to get involved and I think you should ignore her and not go to her website and just block her emails. I've written to her and have told her to ignore you. Ah, I see I got described as "the lunatic that thinks Parwaiz was her boyfriend." You led me to believe that. It's your fault. And your always saying bad things about people is really winning you supporters isn't it? I'm sure this "lunatic" will accomplish more in life and will be richer than either of you put together. Heck, this "lunatic" is already more educated and richer and more well traveled than her. I own more diamonds and gold now than she ever will. I know more languages than her. Abstract stuff that I love will never be part of her cognitive world. I think I'm the more fortunate one. I would rather have more knowledge than have a boyfriend any day. I learnt some Farsi off of you, I bounced some ideas off of you, I was exposed to your ideas, I've already gotten every benefit I could derive from you. You haven't come up with anything new and I already know your thoughts on things so there isn't anything new I could gain from you anyway. To spend time around you now is to just caught in a spiral of meaningless arguments. Everything else that men are supposedly good for- I could get that from any man, if I wanted but I don't want to. If I did, I would have agreed to get married to people. And your wasting your time having stupid arguments with people over the internet instead of studying etc. and always wasting your time in self-pity and thinking of yourself as a victim will make it easier than ever to accomplish more in life than you. When my older brother was 21, he graduated from North Western with two degrees. People less intelligent than you will amount to more than you and leave you behind just because instead of doing something productive with your time you waste it on stupid arguments over the internet. When I was your age, I was the commentary editor of my school paper, my writing was out there in the real world rather than just on the internet. Arguing with people on the internet doesn't amount to anything. Your accomplishments in the real world do. Your talk about Palestine is just that- all talk. You haven't gone to one rally in your life, you haven't given one cent in your life to charity. Unless you substantiate what you're talking about on the internet with something you do in real life, it's all talk. You accomplish things by being a doer, not a talker. The only time being a talker might lead to stuff, if you publish your writing out there in the real like in letters to editors or something. > You should ask her where she got your email, I > didn't give it. > Ask her. She says you gave it. Why should I believe you when all you do is say bad stuff about me? But maybe it's possible that she might have been on a list and she must have read my posts about you. I can't think of any other place where my email would be and you would be mentioned also. I told her to ignore you. I'm telling you to ignore her. I'll ignore you. You can ignore me. Everything will be fine in the end. We all shouldn't read what the other person writes and we shouldn't react. We shouldn't allow other people's actions and words to manipulate us.
---end of email---

posted by qalam on Wednesday, February 4, 2004 at 12:18 p.m.

Last night's conversation (because we're weirdo's):
[Parwaiz] I love you poopieface!!!
[Autumn] Wha? Wha? You're a buttcrack face!!!
[Parwaiz] (taken wholly aback by this attack) Wha? I'm telling! I'm telleeeeeeeng!!!!!! I'm telleeeeng Mommy!!! [Autumn] NO!!! NO!!! DON'T TELL!!!!
I promise I'll clean your room for a month!!!!
[Parwaiz] Okay den, you big gay. ::crosses arms, turns nose up.:::
Later on the next night:
[Autumn] You penisface!
[Parwaiz] You mean dick face?
[Autumn] No, penisface! :::begins talking about The Goonies:::
And yes, we actually do have conversations like this.
Yes, we awh big weetawhds, so wut.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 3, 2004 at 08:37 p.m.

I just received an email from Sarah filled with partial propaganda from the imbecile who runs Nekhebt, as some things in the email are true. I have threatened her and harshly rebuked her for stalking me and behaving like an asshole in general, the rest isn't true, as much as she would like it to be. The post follows, enjoy folks:
---beginning of email---
Hello Sarah, My name is Neki, and you do not know me, so I would like to introduce myself. I have a website at http://nekhebt.pitas.com/ and Parwaiz has accused me of being someone named Sarah. I've seen your email address in attachments on emails that were sent to me. I found his site through his girlfriend who calls herself kittenpoo. I developed an amused interest in him because he seemed so intelligent, funny, and charming. That was until he emailed me, pretending to be his girlfriend, and asking for him and me to meet. I would kindly ask if you would look at my website and then look at his website at http://qalam.pitas.com/ and see how he has copied and defiled my logo, and has threatened to kill me. He says I am a stalker because I had a friend at Berkeley find out who he is. I think he is a stalker. I found out information about him because he was calling me a prostitute and much worse, and threatening me. I want to caution you in case you are the Sarah to whom he refers in his rants. If you are, please do be careful?
Neki
---end of email---

posted by qalam on Tuesday, February 3, 2004 at 10:35 a.m.

It seems as of late in Iraq the noble moqawama has employed the use of dual-bombers. Two simultaneous suicide strikes against the enemy to ensure a horrific level of devastation against the Occupiers as well as delivering a staggering blow to the morale and psychology of the Occupation Force under the banner of America, has been achieved. Alhamdulillah, in the future one martyr, even as destructive as he or she will be, will be honoured by being incorporated into a team of martyrs. Inshallah, in the future, perhaps, if the moqawama so chooses to honour the noble precepts of Resistance, they shall with noble measure, however sparingly, institute the use of quadriple simultaneous suicide strikes against a single target ensuring one hundred percent obliteration of the structure of the Occupation Force as well as the annihilation of the morale and psychology of the Occupation Force. One concept of the multiple strike paradigm follows: One martyr may be honoured to testify first, in the ensuing pandemonium, the Occupation Forces' personnel will flee, where, strategically another Supreme Martyr shall be stationed to strike those who flee past him or her. The third noble martyr shall move forward and strike as the ambulance and rescue vehicles of the Occupation Forces arrive to treat Occupier-injured. The final martyr may testify after the previous in infiltrating any nearby or desired concentration of Occupiers who remain alive, and detonating, thereby obliterating the enemy. Those who remain alive after such a quadriple suicide strike, will be so psychologically damaged and emotionally distraught as to be rendered useless into the forseeable few days or weeks. This is but one concept of hundreds available to resistance analysts in finally and ultimately deciding which striking pattern a martyrs' detachment shall execute against the Occupiers. With this recent strike of dual-martyrs' over fifty of the enemy were obliterated, and hundreds injured. One need not take a leap of faith in understanding the magnitudes of annihilation that four martyrs, supreme in faith, can unleash upon Occupation Forces if properly utilized.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 2, 2004 at 07:33 p.m.

I finally have a chance to log on.
Just came back today from the airport after spending the weekend with my angel, I'm so happy for her as she made a fine choice in deciding to live where she ultimately moved. Spent the whole weekend either unpacking, eating, or having sex, and nothing much else. Her internet/cable provider is run by quacks and beyond that, the fridge and cupboards are stocked with sundry and sordid delectable items, like chocolate, as an example.

posted by qalam on Monday, February 2, 2004 at 06:53 p.m.

A suicide bomber has struck today aboard the green-and-white bus. The bomb tore the back third off the roof of it as it climbed Gaza Street in the wealthy Rehavia neighborhood. The suicide bombing, the first in Jerusalem since September and the first in any Israeli city since Dec. 25, was claimed by the Al Aqsa Martyrs Brigades. It identified the bomber as Ali Muneer Jaara, a Palestinian police officer from a refugee camp in Bethlehem, just south of Jerusalem. Jaara, who was to turn 25 on Friday, left a one-page handwritten note saying he wanted to avenge the deaths of eight Palestinians killed in an Israeli incursion on Wednesday into the Gaza Strip. Asking his mother not to cry for him, he wrote, "Be happy for the wedding of your son the martyr." Dror Duga, a 17-year-old high school student, said he was about a block away when he saw the bus explode. "People flew out of the roof of the bus," he said. "The street was dead. Then the people in the buildings started screaming. There were pieces of flesh on the ground, hands and a head." As emergency workers gathered corpses and body parts into white plastic bags, the charred body of a man, his head thrown back, his skin a dark gray, still sat in a seat in the wreck. He had no feet and no arms. Ten Occupiers were neutralized in the blast, the bomp weighed nineteen pounds and was layered in shrapnel within the carry-sack. The explosion wounded more than forty-five Occupiers and sprayed body parts into living rooms from the prime minister's official residence at the edge of central Jerusalem.
A martyr's testament.

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 29, 2004 at 04:08 p.m.

If people only knew how old I was inside.
Sangue onuri.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 28, 2004 at 10:05 p.m.

You don't get on my good side by ripping off Paula Cole's Where Have All The Cowboys Gone. I just took a shit, too. A streaker, you know folks, don't deny it, one of those shit-sessions where we leave shit skidmarks on the toilet bowl. Oh yeah, I turned the toilet into a brown kaleidoscope. Fear my bowels.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 28, 2004 at 06:49 p.m.

As a point of humor, the condoms I took an image of years ago, or whenever it was, are no longer there. Leading me to one conclusion. People are banging in my dorm, somewhere. Either that, or faggot guys with no women are using them to jack off into so they won't make a mess. That's also possible, but for the sake of not having my plot dismantled, let's assume the former possibility. Now, I figure if I can find them and tape them in the act, I can blackmail them into doing my laundry under threat of public release... I think it could work... I think that would give me the requisite foothold to take over the world in one fell swoop. It's possible.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 28, 2004 at 03:10 p.m.

Stalkers do mystify me. And they can lick my ass, actually. They can keep licking it till they get a drippy chocolate load shot into their eye because they licked too good.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 28, 2004 at 02:15 p.m.

It seems I have a stalker now. Lovely. That's when you know you've arrived. She says she's my muse, yeah, straight stalker. Hello. I'm famous now everybody. I've arrived, someone lick my asshole already, it's drippin' joy. Catch a sugary mouthful. Attention-whore stalkers, boy let me tell you. Berkeley is a strange ass place indeed, not a month goes by from when I show up, to when I have a stalker. Literally, a month hasn't gone by yet and here I am, on the red fucking carpet.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 28, 2004 at 11:27 a.m.

The Shaheen hotel on the banks of the Tigris was struck by Iraqi resistance via carbomb taking form of an ambulance. Very clever. The hotel is very popular with foreign journalists and The Labour Minister, Sami Izara al Majoun -who lives at the hotel - said he was brought out of the burning building by his guards. "We are not going to be scared and will not hide as Saddam Hussein did," he told reporters. The blast tore the face off the front of the hotel and decimated the Iraqi police precinct across the street, alhamdulillah. On 1 January, eight people were killed when a car bomb tore through a restaurant in Karrada. Hours before the latest blast, three US soldiers and two Iraqi civilians died when a roadside bomb hit an army convoy in Khaldiya, west of Baghdad. Another roadside bomb killed three US soldiers near Iskandariya, south of the Iraqi capital. The two CNN employees died in a drive-by shooting, on the southern outskirts of Baghdad. The area around Khaldiya, 70 kilometres (50 miles) from the capital, has seen regular attacks on coalition forces. Long live their resistance against occupiers and those whore journalists seeking to exploit the suffering of people to show to the international community. Also, tomorrow is the big day. 400 palestinian detainees and dozens of Lebanese fighters will be released by Israel in response to mediation efforts by German intelligence between Hezbollah, Israel, Syria and Iran. This is the result of three years of intensive negotiations between Hezbollah and the Illegal Zionist Entity. The non-Palestinians, who will be flown to Germany, include Lebanese, Syrians, Moroccans, Sudanese and a Libyan detainee. The prisoners will be traded for Israeli businessman Elhanan Tennenbaum, captured by Hezbollah in October 2000, as well as the remains of Israeli soldiers Adi Avitan, Beni Avraham and Umar Suwayd. Two of the Lebanese prisoners are Hezbollah leaders Sheikh Abdel Karim Obeid and Mustafa Dirani. The men were important hostages for Israel and have long been described as bargaining chips for information concerning the whereabouts of Ron Arad, the Israeli airman captured in Lebanon in 1986. Sheikh Obeid was seized in Lebanon in 1989 and Mr Dirani in 1994. Germany has long played a leading part in discreet diplomatic moves concerning Middle East prisoners. Back as 1995, it was reported that a secret summit of Israeli and Iranian diplomats took place in Bonn, with a key German intelligence service official mediating on an exchange of information about Ron Arad, an Israeli airman captured by Hezbollah. This week, Germany offered to free three prisoners, one Lebanese and two Iranians, in exchange for information on Mr Arad. Mr Uhrlau has also said that information about the airman could surface in the next two to three months. In return Israel is expected to be required to hand over a Lebanese prisoner not included in this week's release. The Lebanese prisoner, Samir Qantar, was sentenced to life in prison for an attack in 1979 that killed an Israeli civilian and his four-year-old daughter.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 28, 2004 at 10:48 a.m.

Polished up my site, make it look meaner and leaner. All finished now. Yay for my onesies.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 27, 2004 at 11:22 p.m.

Out on campus today and ran across a booth run by the noble Students for Justice in Palestine. Needless to say, I can't say enough positive things about the group, may they run many cells under the Western nose. I took as many flyers as I could, and I duly thanked them all for standing up for the Oppressed by being an outlet for information the Zionist-controlled media and their apologists wish didn't exist-- but does. God bless the group and those they inspire, may their will be unbreakable and their determination-- rocket-propelled. They follow:

posted by qalam on Monday, January 26, 2004 at 02:01 p.m.

As a reminder to loyal readers, all emails will have a subject tag unless otherwise noted.
Two new emails from Sarah:
---beginning of email---
Subject: dior
I saw this book at the Rutgers library and I really crave it now. It was called "man as the measure of all things" or life as art and it made life seem so beautiful like some kind of french aesthetic experience. I had enough to read so I didn't check it out. Right now I'm reading a book called "Talking about fashion." It's an old charming book translated from the French and it's by the designer Christian Dior. It's his autobiography. I got a book out on theatre and acting since I know nothing about it. On TU there is a girl called Tessa. She posted about being really shy and not being able to have casual conversations with strangers and people responded with interesting replies. Apparently a lot of people on TU are very shy and a guy who is a law professor talked about how shy he was in front of his students he first day. Anyway I said I was very shy but being a customer service representative really helped and now I can have short interesting conversations with strangers. My sister in law is throwing a huge Eid party just for girls and women at our house. They'll be playing Indian music and doing dances from Indian movies. Parwaiz, all these Arab girls know how to belly dance really well and the Indian girls know dances from Indian movies really well but both my little sister and I can't dance. It's so embarrassing. We could probably dance in a club or something but we don't know any ethnic dances. I want to invite Linda so I have a friend of my own to talk to at the party but I was thinking maybe I shouldn't invite her because she would be the only person I would be talking to and my sister in law and her relatives would want me to be talking to them. Nasreen has a lot of friends coming. I'd be at work for half of the party anyway. I crave dessert like chocolate mousse or pastery or cheese cake.
---end of email---
---beginning of email---
Parwaiz! Are you trying to embarrass me? FYI, as for "public consumption" your only audience consists of me and Autumn anyway. And your efforts to alienate me are slowly working. And then Autumn will end up your only audience until you manage to alienate her also one day. You're the one who stole my writing and put it on your webpage.
---end of email---

posted by qalam on Monday, January 26, 2004 at 08:44 a.m.

Some of the local homeboys. "Where all these hardcore Orange County boys we be hearin' 'bout?"

posted by qalam on Sunday, January 25, 2004 at 03:08 p.m.

It has been confirmed by The Daily Star, that indeed Hezbollah has tentatively agreed to exchange the bodies of three neutralized Zionist Occupation soldiers and one business man who has confessed to being a Mossad recruiter. This all in exchange for dozens, possibly more, Palestinian and Lebanese guerrilas. I hope the Party still has enough venom to deliver the businessman, much like the soldiers, cold.

posted by qalam on Sunday, January 25, 2004 at 12:56 a.m.

Henceforth, all unsolicited emails from Sarah will be available for public consumption on this website. Enjoy.
---beginning of email---
I just came back from a muslim party. You know what, at work and school and stuff when there are men around it's not like I actually notice them. But when I'm at a muslim event and it's segregated and I'm with just other muslim girls, I feel this overwhelming feeling of safety and security and I really like being with just other muslim girls. So maybe subconciously, the presence of men does make me tense but I'm not concious of it and only the relief of being around just other muslim girls makes me realize that maybe the presence of men frightens me or makes me uncomfortable at some level. Anyway, you know what, I was looking at these muslim girls as they chattered away. Sweet innocent girls including my little sister and I was thinking, that it is actually ethical that when many muslim men like you want to have casual sex, you choose someone non-muslim and you don't corrupt or ruin or badly influence any of these muslim girls from the segregated side. Using muslim girls for casual sex would completely undermine and destroy this little segregated group of innocence so you actually did the ethical thing to look outside the muslim community when you choose a girl for casual sex.
---end of email---

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 24, 2004 at 09:26 p.m.

Before the launch of the Second Gulf War, commonly referred to in the American Media as "Operation: Iraqi Freedom" there was an elevation in tension in the Primary Conference Room at the UN building where Colin Powell addressed the diplomats and excellencies of all signatory nations regarding the threat posed by Iraqi forces to the US and allies. He went before them with a pound bag of flour he used to illustrate all the anthrax it would take, if properly dispersed, to wipe out a major city in a span measurable in days. He also stated that Iraq posed a probably nuclear, as well as chemical, biological, and radiological threat to the US and its allies. He admits he was lying, in effect. The David Kay inspection team was on the brink of revealing that Iraq had no stockiles post- Gulf I when the political whore and liar Colin Powell admitted, in an attempt to steal the former's thunder, no doubt-- that indeed, it's an "open question" if Iraq ever, ever posed a viable threat to anyone but itself. Also, by his admission "The answer to that question is, we don't know yet," in response to inquiry about WMD. Let it now be made clear, abundantly so, that the US, lied. It has lied, is lying, and will continue to lie, as it attempts to salvage itself from its Vietnam in the sand. Source cited.

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 24, 2004 at 11:48 a.m.

Still the first week of classes, so nothing to worry about, even though I've skimmed the syllabi of all my courses, and I'm still not impressed. I squirt jizz on my weakest day harder than these professors throw their ideas. Poli sci, expected. Nothing but reading and writing. Ideas of theirs not even changing views, just leaving stains on walls. Today my Eastern Euro prof. had the indecency and took nigh lascivious pleasure in giving us a lecture which amounted to three pages of notes. Shit down the Ganges to me. Lecherous motherfuck. Dealt with other classes none of which I can recall the details of too well. I suppose they were classes. Means to ends. Another uninspired entry. Waiting to get my paper-write on so I can spray my intellect at these arrogant morons and have the rounds cut through their ideas and strike them at their cores, blasting their arrogance and egos into shards, leaving nothing but pieces of shattered pretense strewn on the ground next to the spent brass casings of my promises kept. Students want to impress teachers; I want to snap the ideas of these motherfuckers in half, at the neck. Their degrees, their letters at the ends of their names ain't shit but wasted alphabet. And I'm heaping praise on my professors, watch what I write in a bad mood, punk ass bitches ain't shit but round-catchers. Let them suck the cock of the last round my mind chambers, business end first, cum and blast the back of their heads clear through, clean out their nasals; watch the casing flop out the breach as the last drop of jizz drops out of their blown out heads smelling like sulphur and smoke and lands on my steeltoe. See me look down in its reflection and watch a nut in the sack drop to adjust as the temperature of the ambience rises as my mind heats up the room in revving to fuck another clip into the mag. port to rinse and as the protocol repeats, I mow down professors ideas and theories, as my mind cools down and heat ups, affecting average room temp, watch each nut in the sack rise and drop at different times. Picture a techo breakdancer's shoulders in a move, going up and down at different times, left shoulder first, then right, then back again, in a blink of an eye, that be these nuts. They only synchronize in drops and ascensions when I cum in the angel I love, I love you Autumn. I thought this graphic post might put a wicked smile on my queen's face.

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 22, 2004 at 07:46 p.m.

The more I become aware of nature of those around me, I realize how futile it is to save myself for them. I make a simple correction of spelling, "duely" to "duly" yet I'm accused by someone claiming they love me that I'm taking some sort of paranoid meaning out of it. I'm sorry, but the "e" in "duely" shouldn't have been there. Don't attempt to fuck with me for it because you can't spell, fuck the English dictionary over it. Don't accuse me. And furthermore, if a heart is about to have the "very life," crushed out of it and that if there were such an "annihilation of.. heart," you could still love, is a joke. That makes no sense. To feel that you could still love, means you were not annihilated, or had the "very life" smashed out of your heart. To be annihlated and still be able to love, means you were not annihilated, merely devasted (if that). But I expect nothing less from someone whose heart I don't command. If I did, and I were lost, there would be annihilation. Obviously there won't be annihilation, because she "could still love." Well then, good for you, my regards to the next guy in line, maybe he'll command more of your heart than I ever did. So no, you won't be annihilated, and probably not even devastated. I'm sure it'll be bar room talk about how "some dude killed himself over you." A gross distortion, I'm sure it will be. I may have been the, I quote, "object of my affection even more adoration" but nice to see you felt free to leave love out of the end there. This is suffering, mine. I wonder who the next guy will be as you move right along. Twisted, I may be. Blind, and unwilling to take life, I am not. And, before I forget. Let me offer my Hail Tonya, who sounds like a good girl with a lot of single male friends for you to look up after they bury me.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 21, 2004 at 07:07 p.m.

Often times, as I wax philosophical, I wonder if I'm a suspicious man, by nature. I wonder, all the while knowing I'm not. Nonetheless, I find myself constantly weighing things and never satisfied. I'm in emotional purgatory-- of sorts. Feeling some things, and knowing others. Not knowing some things, and feeling others. I feel I'm in emotional limbo. I don't like that feeling, but I've gotten quite used to it-- with family, friends et cetera. Never having a person to truly trust, with either knowledge, one's own trust, emotional needs, or physical reassurance, in any arrangement or order, is a strange bedfellow that's in my life, no stranger than a headpost at the end of a bed, a roof over a head if one lives in a house. I suppose if I did trust I would have the ultimate sanctuary. The purest confessor, with lips sealed by the hot molten lead of a nagging conscience ensuring that there would never be abuse or betrayal. Alas, I have nothing. How many synonyms are there: In the end, I have nothing. No structure to be stabilized by, nothing to guide me, no object upon which to rest, to be unencumbered by all the people and all the suspicions dragging me down. In life, true peace is in death. And in death, emerges life. If you're of the godly persuasion. I often lust after that true peace. Searching for it in a world filled with illusion and disillusionment in ideas and in people. Is there a difference? As perhaps people are god's ideas given form. Maybe that's why we have smart, and dumb, angry and nice, trusting, and forever paranoid people. Maybe that's why we have people who betray, by nature, and those who are loyal, by nature. Reflections of many perfections. Perhaps we are all but qualities of deity, in person, different. That true peace I seek I know I won't ever find alive, yet the more that knowledge is etched into by mind, and as it is, blowing gently away particles of care, with each stroke of the mind's chisel into my memory, I realized that the fine dust blown out after each strike, perhaps, is what it's all about. To exist, stationary and stable, and then to be struck, blown out of one's natural condition or state, and into oblivion. Obliteration. Pure nihilism suits me in thoughts like these as they most often fill me with security and comfort when no man, woman, idea or institution does. I seek an island of refuge in my mind and in my physical and emotional affairs, yet I can't find it, with no god or philosophy beyond a yearning for that true peace, I find myself gradually coming to an ultimate realization. That to find true peace when one cannot pursue it, or if one can, but will never find it. Then, become what you seek. I seek true peace, then emotionally and on all levels and states of condition, I must become the very thing I pursue. To end the pursuit, the search, the exertion, by becoming the very prey I hunt, when I am all that's left. That true peace, becomes me. That death of emotion, thought, powered only by knowledge and the committment to the real, to the tactile is now what I choose, in seeking, realizing that to achieve, to catch, means, to become. I, become.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 20, 2004 at 08:06 p.m.

Classes began today. Nothing at all came my way which wasn't expected. I expected a good laugh, a good challenge, and a good intellectual joust. Got all three in fine dosage. Told my professor of Eastern European policy exactly what I thought of Romania when I told him Ceausescu had a right to commit genocide against perceived enemies. Let's see, my Poli. Sci. 2 professor, is a moron and I say this objectively and with the full and roaring spirit of sobriety tearing through me: he's also a faggot. I had no problem with my professor of Middle Eastern Studies as she made it a matter of point to repeatedly and consistently, with a motion so fluid it was as though she were pouring Russia's silkiest vodka, to bash Bush, God and nation in one fell swoop, and rinsed and repeated. Well, that's three out of four classes/professors I made comment on, one more's on the way come tomorrow. This one is a professor of Society and Technology, and from the email replies he's given me, he's either genuinely retarded or suffers from a violent and severe affliction of ADD. Berkeley education gents. Heed.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 20, 2004 at 07:46 p.m.

Sometimes life, and our conscience as people demands of us certain actions which at first and on their surface seem morally untenable and emotionally corrosive yet we come to terms with them for the sake of our investments in other people, these days. My life, and my conscience required of me one such action, and I justly carried it out. Luckily, the aim of the action did not meet with success, for if it had, that temporary achievement of success in that aim would've immediately led to a total failure of the investment, and I would've been forced to pull my hand, cut losses, and put down stakes elsewhere. Sometimes failure, is good. As I grow older the more I realize, that for the sake of the things we as men value, like loyalty, the more and more morally and generally socially unfavorable means and measures must be implemented to ensure that we as men, in our limited capacities to discern truth in words when we hear them, or in actions when we see them, can actually uncover if they reflect reality. One cannot have the sweet without the bitter. Without the bitter, the concept of sweet would lose its meaning. In the face of modern investments people make in each other, a small amount of bitterness every now and then, here and there, is warranted so that people involved never lose the notion of what's sweet-- what's valuable, and what's valued. By now no doubt readers understand that the purpose of all of this, is to underscore what's going on in my life. I was a bitter man today, but bitter only to ensure that the candy, you see, remained sweet. It does. Lacking the ability to trust, is the ultimate in security, and the ultimate in weakness-- but only when it comes to relationships. And sometimes one considers the history of some people, and that weakness, that inability, that lack of trust, isn't quelled, but highlighted further. Inflamed, even. If I were a man of flesh, by that I mean totally immersed in a world in my head consisting of chasing women and which had no other facet of human decency or emotion of depth, then the concept of loyalty is meaningless, and wouldn't bother me. However, with myself, the exact opposite is true. If a partner cannot be trusted in any given relationship, good sex as an example, is a bandaid on a wound that never stops bleeding. Something more drastic is required. I took the first step in that vein. I ensured loyalty, in albeit a very limited sense, by proactively taking steps to ensure that if one were inclined to leave a partner, that it wouldn't, atleast, just take some punk to do it. Atleast now I rest in the relative solace of knowing that if it does happen, the chap responsible will probably be just a good a man if not better, as I. That's some kind of peace, I guess. So it wouldn't be a total loss, in my mind, even though by technical definition-- it would be. If she were to leave me, atleast she'd go to someone that wasn't just some piece of trash. Atleast, I have that to recline my conscience on, kick the intellectual footrests up, and nap in peace.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 19, 2004 at 08:11 p.m.

Well, that list I have listed below works just fine until you realize, after checking, that you can only do three out of the four due to it being Milk Man day today, so I ended up reconning some classes, took the most pleasureable morning shit I've ever taken. One of those that requires next to no wipe-- but that's not the best part. The best part was that it flopped outta me in the most perfect chunks, that required no squeezing of the anal muscles to encourage movement, no. NO. THEY KNEW, THEY ***KNEW*** when to plop out. There were three main plops, and some cover fire of material that plopped out, in a fugue of confusion, not knowing the main batallion of shit just passed them.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 19, 2004 at 03:24 p.m.

:::raises hands, palms up::: Subhanna. Today's the day Parwaiz does some prelim. intel. gathering on classes and other things. Itinerary roughly:
1)Get a ladder for the bunk bed.
2)Locate classes.
3)Check mail for a book impending arrival.
4)Get "readers" required for a poli. sci. class from Copy Central.
None of this in any particular order, however.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 19, 2004 at 10:04 a.m.

In one of the more positive developments for the Iraqi moqawama as of late, at 0500 GMT a shaheed testified in a pick-up neutralizing atleast 20 of the Occupation forces. The massive blast occured at the (aptly named) Assassin's Gate-- a heavily fortified entrance to one of Saddam Hussein's former palaces. The resistance timed the strike well, as this attack comes as the US is in the throes of its attempts at persuading the UN to return to the country after they were the victim of a martyr's testament. That strike tore the UN building in half, what of it remained standing, collapsed inward into itself not a shadow beyond two minutes after the strike; the UN envoy was killed in that testament. The compound - the Republican Palace in Saddam Hussein's time - is now the civilian and military headquarters of the US administration. One thousand pounds (500 kg) of explosives carried in a white Toyota pick-up detonated outside the main entrance to the complex, said US military spokesman Colonel Ralph Baker. A witness who was driving by said the explosion lifted his car into the air. Several cars were set on fire in the blast, the force of which was felt across the city. An official coalition statement said 20 people had been killed and 60 injured. Unfortunately, tragically, many Muslims were instantly killed by the blast and numerous were injured. Collateral damage.

posted by qalam on Sunday, January 18, 2004 at 11:32 a.m.

Goddamnit. There. I felt like starting off this entry with something sufficiently blasphemous. Satisfying that requirement, I can proceed. I just came back from a trip to Copy Central on Bancroft and was told, quite politely, that the readers will be available on the 20th. You now see, then, the readily apparent fact that it doesn't require a person of substantial IQ to determine the simple matter of today's date, the 17th. I was disappointed, to wit. I had it in my head the reasonable expectation to pay a sum amount and, with that nice expectation, to thereafter walk away with a reader for my political science class in tote, possibly carrying a nice tune on my lips as I whistle away...but nay. NAY. I, I Parwaiz, I, the great Ayatollah of Parwaizland, had that wish, taken, dismantled, and thrown into the abyss of disillusioned quasi-nihilistic indifference. In sum, I decided to go get ice cream, and in a final punishing blow, a coup de grace, was told that they don't accept plastic. I was crushed. Defeated. Everything I ever believed, or knew lay before me-- in tatters. Oh unmerciful gods!!! ::fist raised upwards, mightily::: Why dost thou chastise me so!!?? Moving on from that plateau of melodramatically refined nouveau-intellect-rejecting physical poetic improvisation, I deign to admit that there's nothing quite else to write about beyond the oft-repeated fact that I love my kitty.

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 17, 2004 at 01:28 p.m.

Just North of Baghdad a convoy was struck by Iraqi resistance via carbomb, killing three American soldiers and two civilian Iraqi police officers (probably former Ba'athists) As arguments go, those who find themselves espousing arguments that resistance has been sequestered or even neutralized, as usual, have egg on their face. Vive la Resistance.

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 17, 2004 at 12:05 p.m.

Just returned from a long walk with Chris, an old Santiago friend of mine with whom I've shared both lighthearted banter and the most austere discourse. I spent time walking around the Campanile, the dorms: Evans, Priestley, etc., and the international house cafe, which was as expected: sparsely populated-- with him. That plagiarizing imbecile woman finally decided to alter her website to better reflect the fact that she's no longer an outright fraudster, but something less notheworthy-- perhaps a mere intellectual ninny. I mean, surely anyone who refers to sexuality in terms of casting aspersion is such: juvenile; almost to the point where I question if her gestation was ever completed before she was birthed. At any rate, I miss my angel far too much, it's quite pathological. BBC's streaming and the forum on anti-globalization will begin in Mumbai, I hope for progress in those hallowed walls. On the Asian front, two more people have died from SARS in Guangdong Province, as the Chinese are clamping down and instituting strict measures to counter the spread of contagion-bearing organisms. On an aside, I've finally come to the conclusion that Pakistan has to be the most corrupt country ever to declare itself sovereign, I feel even the eyes of Russians are filled with envy. Corruption charges rage in the government, it's quite a sad case of one failed country becoming increasingly unstable. At any rate, I'm tired and ready to keel...

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 17, 2004 at 1:05 a.m.

Some halfbreed woman who thinks she has the slightest idea of what she speaks of, has decided to rip off, quite inelegantly, the style and code for my website and then still maintain the requisite gall to contact my girlfriend and deny that she did after being questioned about the odd similarity between design and structure of my site, and this prostitute's site. I don't know what country she comes from (I, naturally, wouldn't know seeing as she's a halfbreed) but ripping off code here is frowned upon, and if you must do it, do firstly ask permission. She didn't, which means she must be one of these neo-liberated anti-Islamic feminist idiots who has no grasp of either current or trend in shools of thought governing etiquette. She probably really didn't mind doing it realizing I was Muslim, and male. Impudent whore this one is, so I end my thoughts of her with the perfunctory prayer of her being mowed down in a hail of pistol-fire. At any rate, small minded chatter and even smaller minds aside, I have to remember to toss the quick restore software my kitten needs into the duffle along with my digital camera to take some pictures of her new pad, apropos to that I'll also now resume gingerly dining on the five-star meal package my angel sent me and relish thoughts of seeing her again come the 30th.

posted by qalam on Friday, January 16, 2004 at 05:18 p.m.

I just received a care package from my lady. Words can't convey how special she is, and how loved she is by me.

posted by qalam on Friday, January 16, 2004 at 01:28 p.m.

Woke up in the middle of the night for a midnight dump-session. I don't quite know what it was, really. Something fiery, fluid, tangled, cohesive, yet dynamic, it was-- blatts. And it was bad. It was badder than bad; it was the baddest blatts I've ever blatted. That's bad people, very bad. It was 12:17a.m., and I ran into the dorm bathroom, unloaded, and on my way out passed an asian chick (not the one who hit on me) and I didn't even look at her. She knew what I did. She knew I murdered a toilet. In cold blood, with my anal muskuls. Also had a strange lucid-dream about my eigth-grade Spanish teacher, Mr. Sayward. Here was a large man around the middle, English, looked like an alcoholic paedophile, and was a soccer fan/would-be hooligan, for Manchester City (not United, they're uppity fucks). He was also pale, yet also somehow perpetually red-faced. I had a dream about looking, rather, rummaging through his desk and drawers in his classroom in my middle school, looking for his alcohol stash. There were always rumours of his "hidden arsenal" of alcohol kept somewhere in the room. Even in my dream, where I conducted a thorough physical search, it was for naught. No booty. Anyway, I've decided to go on a masturbation strike until I can see my girl on the 30th, two weeks from now. I think I can hold out, I intend to. Though once I see her, I might blow out the backside of her. It's possible.

posted by qalam on Friday, January 16, 2004 at 09:43 a.m.

The Americans invaded Iraq to promote democracy (a lie) and to remove the threat of WMD (a blatant lie now obvious to the world,) and now the Shi'a are demanding democracy, yet why aren't the Americans too keen on delivering democracy to Iraqis? Because they (the Americans and British) fear the result. Democracy would mean the Shi'a rising and ruling the country as the majority. This is the hypocrisy of America in this regard. They have revealed their true hand in their intent not to spread democracy, but to further spread their own political and cultural hegemony. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld himself admitted that a theocracy is unacceptable, yet if that is what democracy leads to, atleast the process would be democractic and the Americans would have nothing to complain about, but no, that's just too easy. It's not just about democracy, it's about Iraqi democracy resulting in something the Americans like. So ofcourse the Americans are dragging their feet because only now do they realize that their eagerness in wanting democracy to prevail will ultimately mean a rise of the Shi'a. In truth, the Americans fear a democracy taking root in Iraq. Due to the Shi'a being the majority of the country, there could only be one outcome through such a process, and that outcome would be a Shi'a outcome. Everything would therefore be Shi'a dominated, as it should be, democratically speaking, for the simple and democratically-intrinsic reason that the Shi'a are the majority, therefore should have the biggest say in things. The Americans, for a change, should finally get what they ask for. A democratic Iraq. Just like they wanted.

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 15, 2004 at 10:20 a.m.

Just returned from getting my class pass from Chavez Center, and I was struck by the beautiful murals depicting so eloquently, a color-blind, classless and egalitarian society, and these noble thoughts stayed with me throughout my meandering around Shattuck/Telegraph and Durant. In and out of stores I tried on sunglasses, leather jackets and all manner of personal clothing articles, and as I strolled down lanes I was taken by the sign above one store, it beckoned me to enter. As I did, I walked about and finally left with a shirt which was so stunningly fitting, so galantly bold, so extraordinarily matched to my open-minded, all-accepting and Berkeley-esque and liberal views about everything from politics to gender-relations, that I was moved to share it with all of you, here it is:

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 14, 2004 at 03:11 p.m.

It's early, too early to be up as a matter of fact; I had to unload kilos of urine. Kilos. Seeing as I woke up and noticed an active connection, I realized (as I had momentarily forgotten) my T1 was online through the night, as a result expect more continuous postings either daily, or perhaps even bi-daily. At any rate, I need to head out to the Sproul and get my Class Pass (A bus pass, for all intents and purposes) which I'll use to hit Oakland with to fly down and help my kitten move. At any rate, a suicide bombing occured at roughly 0800 GMT at the Erez crossing between Gaza and Eretz Israel. The strike neutralized four Zionists in the security complex in which the strike took place. The bomber was a female, her name, may god hold it, and her, in the highest esteem, is Reem Raiyshi, a mother-of-two in her early 20s, from the Gaza Strip. She was a Hamas member, and apparently a member of the Ezzidine al-Qassam, the Supreme Martyrs Battalion, may they and their families find paradise in peace. This strike was carried out jointly by Hamas, the noble Islamic resistance and Fatah's paramilitary branch, the Al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigade. The latter probably provided intelligence, and the former, the legs. Either way, it shows that even in light of open political differences, all wings of all groups would unite in the cause of resistance against Occupation. This is also a precedent for Hamas as hitherto only males were activated for martyrdom, but now Hamas (probably in seeing how effective they are in the field) has activated their female martyrs. Furthermore a day before a 29-year-old Zionist (a settler, in this instance) was neutralized in a drive-by shooting (How Compton of them) in the city of Ramallah. Amusingly enough, Erez is the main crossing point between Israel and the Gaza Strip, which is surrounded by an Israeli fence to stop suicide bombers entering Israel. Well, it's getting brighter outside, so my side of the earth is beginning to face the sun, mile by mile, in my direction. Probably a message telling me to get my ass moving.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, January 14, 2004 at 07:32 a.m.

My princess just found an excellent little spot in Irvine and move in day is the 30th. It overlooks a golfcourse and it's in Irvine. I'm so proud of her. She deserves it. I'm so terribly proud of her.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 at 06:55 p.m.

I'm back-- read Autumn's journal entry so I don't incur premature arthritis in writing a re-hash of recent events. My IRC (In-Room Connection) is up and running so my system's always online for my meanderings. Some kook (either Sarah or one of her friends) set up a parody site of mine, down to ripping off the page layout by cutting and pasting the source code and contacted her requesting that kittenpoo put up a link to the kook-site aforementioned. I know you're all dying to see what it looks like after the holocaust it took to unpack (I jest,) so here it is:

Think of the ho's I could throw outta heeyuh:



Some muthafuckin' quality dining, bitches:



The rig, on the riznitch:

posted by qalam on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 at 04:17 p.m.

In a rush today so this'll be a quick entry... going to head out to INS Beuna Park for fingerprinting, gonna eat tonight at Mimi's with the family, thanks to my kitten I have some rubberlaid bins to dumbs bin's worth of shit into. Heading out later to Theo's house to pay a last visit to her family before I evanesce. I love pancakes. I love gatorade too... if my ass weren't attached it'd fallen off by now due to the rush my head's in. Sarah's rambling email to Autumn was thoroughly amusing, unfortunately, aside from being a history lesson it made little sense and overall, amounted to even less. I'm off...

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 8, 2004 at 09:33 a.m.

Blew the whole day. Most of it, well, anyway. Watching Star Trek: TNG right now thinking of just how inefficient the American bureauocratic process really is. Spent the whole day at INS in Santa Ana trying to figure out what might be holding up the process I've started some two odd years ago, apparently the Liguna Niguel branch of INS isn't doing what it's supposed to do, so there it went. Moving this week, going to start packing in earnest sometime Wednesday, things'll get a bit frenetic soon.

posted by qalam on Monday, January 5, 2004 at 07:08 p.m.

Today I spent the day out with Autumn, lounged around a bit and did sundry other things, Monday I'll pay a visit to an old friend's family, this entry is more of an attempt, however, to show Autumn how easy it is to use Pitas... We took her cat to the vet because all manner of unspeakable disease was infesting the poor beast's skin, yet during transport to the car, in sheer fright I would think, the cat erected itself fully, and proceeded to gingerly urinate in the back of her car. i was standing there in amazement, since I don't own any pets. I saw a trickle-cum-stream of urine snake away from under the sitting cat and curve its way to the back corner of the seat, yet before then the cat sprayed the car tire before being placed in the car, where the deluge began...

posted by qalam on Saturday, January 3, 2004 at 03:44 p.m.

Had a night out with Wess, we cruised around as he made deliveries and drove generally like a manaical threat to public safety as I routinely grabbed the oh-shit bar and leered at him with pupils dilated wondering in amazement as to the gravity of the miracles in-play which have thus far prevented both of us from being killed. Made a sorry attempt at passing another boring day and writing it off to history as less than something footnote-worthy. We spoke of Autumn alot, and his verbosity-meter was running high in this regard. He told me words of advice, rules of thumb, general guidelines and so forth. Things to do, and don't, etc. Autumn was on the phone with me as the evening winded down, and as we headed to a bar so Wess could get his drink on Autumn made some remark about the repute of the establishment we were about to enter as really being a "bar" or not. Since in her years of experience she's come to know many bars I'm sure, therefore has in her mental rolodex a rather sundry and long list of drinking establishments and other places where people like Autumn visit for whatever sordid reasons... at any rate, aside from driving around with Wess, I was continually nagged by all the good points he made regarding my status with Autumn and got me to wondering about things that still nag me as I write these words. Things about her past, whether she still thinks about the men she's been with, or how consecutively she's been with the men of her past (were they all one right after another, or were there gaps of time in between?) It might seem juvenile that such things bother me but they do, and they all go into final calculations of future possibilities vis-a-vis my future. She also claimed that she's never had a one-night-stand, yet if this were true, then that must mean she's never slept with anyone in that party house she used to live in over in Long Beach. But ofcourse she may have, which destroys her assertion of having never had a one-night-stand. It's all far too much drama for me. Far too many questions still go unanswered that require answers. I also sometimes wonder about her concept of "love." Especially in light of the "love" she says she feels for me. Whenever I pressed the matter it was simply boiled down to the fact that I was "different," and "innocent," and treated her better than all those with whom she's had relationships with. That's all fine and good, but that doesn't necessarily mean you love someone, it just means they're nice and treat you well. This along with so many other issues that Wess has broached continue to pique my curiosity and to be crude, bother me.

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 1, 2004 at 09:48 p.m.

Well here we are in the new year. I've been greeted by the same old stinking pile of festering maggot-ridden fly-festooned piss-stained unfulfilling shit-misery I've so often come to call my life. Sometimes it's nice to bitch and moan, or in my case, to make it a profession. The world hasn't come to an end; the rapture hasn't come since all the goodie-two shoe Christians I know are waking up drunk as I write this a la Autumn's room-mates, so I think I can safely say the rapture hasn't happened. Readers may note that the last few posts haven't had a political slant, this is due mainly to my self-imposed personal exile from the la-la land of politics and my commentating on it since my attention and thoughts have been diverted to other things, like the smooth transition to Berkeley, moving-wise. Wess (snowman) and I are going to hit up a "bar" tonight as he sees fit to attempt to intoxicate me as a parting gift before I leave. I'll go along with that summation of it, yes. So I'll go. Why not. Worse thing that could happen is my dying. C'est la vie. Thinking about going to Costco and getting some free food to hold me down for the day, minus going to taco bell for some intestine-unfriendly shit passing itself off as food. However, the outlandish and lavish heaps of praise I shower Taco Bell with isn't enough to keep me from going there soon... Gwen and Safi are local due to the holidays and the former should be heading back "circa Januaray 12," in her words, how quaint to have it put like that. I lack the current inclination to talk to either of them. Bleh, old news. Very old. Nigh ancient, like the city of Bam (don't laugh, prick), that was just crushed by a maginitude something-or-other [insert fearsome number] earthquake which leveled the city, killing roundabout 25,000 brown people who don't speak Spanish. Americans are and have been sending aid-relief to the "eye-rain-eee-andz" and it hasn't been stopped or otherwise hampered. Strange how sudden disaster re-writes the diplomatic rule book when it comes to nations attempting to push their hegemony through tit-for-tat diplomatic tete-a-tetes with each others' lower ranking leaders, our Colin Powel, their Axis of Evilist supermegageniusduper of evilism counter-part, inter persona... So much for not getting political. I can't help it, oh well. The weather is shit-tastic and can't get any better. I lie. It could. I would enjoy feeling a nice warmth emanated by even warmer silky rays of light illuminating me, as I reach my hands forward to warm them still further as though sitting in front of a fireplace--from the countless fires blazing all over Orange County as God deciding to destroy this hole-of-misery by burning it all to the ground.

posted by qalam on Thursday, January 1, 2004 at 01:45 p.m.

Just got out of the shower, shaved my head and glided the electric clippers over my face, trimming the dirt... I think my mom broke the mailbox, she just walked in claiming the face wouldn't close, but I'll let that irritation get to me some other time, I'll take a look at it when I go out and check for mail... let's see. The New Year is nigh approaching, and it'll be followed by a nice change of scenery both in terms of landscape/environment and faces, something I direly need. All of which brings into sharp relief the simple fact that New Years Eves of yore were just prefaces for more of a shitty time to follow in those twelve months to come; atleast this time, I hope things will be different, I'll make them be different, damn, they'll be compelled I tell you, compelled. Mom's in the other room using the stereo which was, up until I left, in my room. She decided to take some liberties with a few items it seems. One more thing I got for Christmas came from Autumn's brother (a drooling slob of a man, with a penchant for humping my leg and those around whom I've dismissed as another unfortunate lackey afflicted by the disease of Tourettes which I imagine came about from one too many spates of incest in the family... but that's just between you and me) and 'twas a card, scanned into this post. I found it humorous enough, it seems he is good for something, aside from back-breaking labour day in and day out...

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 31, 2003 at 01:00 p.m.

Maybe it's the cynic in me (it probably is) that thinks people shouldn't apologize for actions which others doubt their remorse for originally executing. People: don't apologize and not mean it, that's worse than what warranted the apology. Life's too short, and I'm no saint. I don't verbally abuse people, and I tend not to suffer those who do, at all well. Perhaps I simply expect too much of people, especially those with colourful backgrounds. I just got an email from Sarah (muffles commentary) asking me on behalf of Dan, Amit, Laura and Zer to come back to a list (smells of ambush, a feeling I've come to become quite familiar with, as of late) which I left for a very simple reason. One which I clearly stated upon my departure sometime and one I have no interest in regurgitating. The past is the past, and remains that. If people think they can freely wail on me and deprive me of the right to duly respond to said deluge and simply "take it" lying down, then they don't know with whom they're dealing with. To even summon the requisite nerve to ask me back after what happened beckons the question of mental cognizance on the part of the quisling they use as their messenger. It's all quite sad, and rather pathetic. Again, as has been stated by one person, perhaps I'm simply and quite merely misinterpreting everything. Yes, that makes it all better.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, December 30, 2003 at 09:34 p.m.

Just returned from San Francisco after four/five days of vacation up there with Autumn. It was enjoyable, moderately sunny-- exactly how I like it. Despite some playful verbal jousting (and some not so playful, at all) things went, as well as things could go, I suppose. The drive up was pleasant, the drive down as was sour which edged my mood into the dour. Drama. Unwarranted nonsense followed. I'm still miffed, told to forget it-- won't ---she knows what I'm talking about. C'est la vie. Received something to clean my remaining teeth with and something else to wear on my wrist over Christmas from Autumn. I, in vintage Parwaiz fashion, did nothing, gave nothing, acknowledged less. Model Stoicism, what else? Fears of an al-Qa'ida attack, or from some other equally foreign-sounding organization, over New Years are looming high, which means irrelevent states like Minnnnesoooooota spent an extra dollar or two at Orange Popsicle alert to catch potential doers of evilism, terrors of doers, evilists... you know. Those brown people, who don't speak Spanish... but they're brown. Yes, some attack from them is looming apparently. The source? Ofcourse. Low ball-ass chatter from the government. I wonder what Katrina Vanden Huevel would say about all this...

posted by qalam on Tuesday, December 30, 2003 at 09:25 p.m.

I'm no longer consumed by the bitterness that once engulfed me. I've come to my faculties and have made peace. I have prioritized, corrected, resolved and acted upon what I now understand to be the correct path, leading to the correct conclusion in my affairs with Autumn. All is well, she is well, therefore-- all is well. Due to that, and my sanity re-asserting itself, I can say with the utmost authority and certainty that I see nothing like what once came in between us, ever coming in between us again. Namely, my irrational behavior. I attribute that to growing pains. That's all there is to say. The irreconcilable, has been reconciled.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, December 16, 2003 at 04:21 p.m.

Got off the phone with Autumn, unsurprisingly she didn't see why I behaved as I did vis-a-vis the "Robert matter." I suppose she thought it all understandable, however given what he's said about me, by name, and the fact that she continues talking to him, I can only conclude that despite her declarations of being offended and hurt by what he said, what he nonetheless said wasn't bothersome enough to warrant terminating all future communication with him, whis especially I find to be immensely disturbing in light of her alleged love for me.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 10, 2003 at 04:09 p.m.

Got off the phone this morning with a lovely Southern California legacy from St. Antony's offering me valuable advice vis-a-vis living conditions in North Oxford, social ambience and academic atmosphere inter alia... I'll can't wait to apply. That sums up my morning, checked email and dealt with the banal yet necessary nonsense that people contrive and send my for reasons unknown, etc etc. At A's house right now, eating her food... gonna go shopping with her later on for trees. Something to do, something to do... just bored.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, December 10, 2003 at 04:07 p.m.

Well then, here I am again, how lovely. In the long history of odd behavior on the part of mankind --specifically the male portion of mankind-- my recent behavior would probably qualify as being odd, however understandable, in a way... to a degree, of sorts. In the last four months I've met someone, a born-again Christian with quite a lovely and colorful history, in every respect, whom I find myself enchanted with. There's a wonderful personality I find to be contained in her brain, however it may be wired or miswired, and she has an adorable smile, yes, let me bleed poetic. We have loads of fun and intimacy and I'm attracted to her in sundry ways. Just want this all to be out in the open-- and clear. You know, because it's not that I've written this under duress of any sort-- no, banish the thought. She wants to convert me, I suppose that falls quite nicely in line with her religious dogma of spreading Christianity. All of the Abrahamic faiths views people as chess pieces, and as religious territory, so it's no surprise she views me int his light, as well: someone to convert. She, as a matter of course, would disagree with this statement, but it nonetheless holds true in my eyes. Time will tell if any of this means anything, whether this was just a stint with someone, or something more long term, who knows. End of that story, next up: American bungling in Iraq... not quite. I won't rehash the obvious, if you can't tell how badly Iraq has been fucked up at the hands of the "coalition" and the Americans, nothing I write will flick the switch on in your meat locker of a head. Now, play nice children, daddy has an AK.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, December 9, 2003 at 03:52 p.m.

Crusaders this week have incurred in a single devastating blow a loss which staggers attempts to qualify its scope. A Crusader "chinook" helicopter sustained a direct blast from a surface to air missile operated by resistance fighters as Crusaders were flying it low to the ground, this attack carried out by the loyal resistance forces resulted in the extermination of sixteen Crusaders and resulted in the injuries of a few others. Fate has looked kindly upon the strife of the Occupied and rewarded their perseverance with the blood of transgressors.

posted by qalam on Monday, November 3, 2003 at 04:21 p.m.

Another blast in French Hill District, a route from the Old City near Malotach'nad, a suicide bombing executed against a bus with seven neutralized and a slew of wounded, the blast also damaged another nearby bus which sustained considerable damage delivered by the martyr. This strike against Occupation was delivered by the Palestinian Islamic Jihad, in retaliation for the assassination of a senior operative in Gaza. The hudna (ceasefire) now went up with the bus. At the moment Hamas has not claimed the strike as its own. Once more, not even Mossad kidon teams can successfully stop the will of the oppressed to lash out against their Occupiers and oppressors. This blast took place near an older UN building, which segues into Baghdad, where a blast took place as a van approached the outer perimeter wall. A part of the UN building collapsed in on itself, the blast ripped through the heart of the building killing the Interim Senior Envoy. The blast could be felt up to a kilometer away. Saddam loyalists or left-over Fedayeen most probably responsible.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, August 19, 2003 at 11:40 a.m.

Back to back martyrdom operations in Rosh Ha'ayin and in the West Bank. Two martyrs, an equal number of neutralized Zionists. The sine qua non of Hamas' ability to strike at the Occupiers, are these fighters. The al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades claimed one of the attacks, but to the lay observer it may seem as though the Palestinians are to blame for this recent spate, but such isn't the case. In reality, in the last few weeks Zionists have been arresting Hamas and other Intifadah activists in West Bank and Gaza, and one Hamas member was killed by the Zionists in this time span, and so, after this harassment Hamas and al-Aqsa struck back, exterminating two of the enemy and causing dozens of casualties. Beyond this, Hamas and others are biting their tongues and letting their trigger-fingers dangle loose for a while, to let the Zionists move next in reaction. In the past, such actions would've had Sharon send the tanks in, but not during election season. The power seems to have gone out all over the East coast and Canada. That shows you for running off the same grids. Same grids? Shared vulnerability. One plant goes done, half the country and some of Canada goes down with it. Major upstream providers for some backbones report packet major packet loss, mainly due to the blackout hitting the right-coast's seaboard, though some speculate some of it is due to the Blaster/Lovsan worm making its rounds and dumping dead traffic onto the net in an attempt to DDoS the Microsoft website and a subdomain associated with it. Petty shit, real petty. We can't blame the script kiddies who write and rip these worms given that Microshaft software is so infinitely shitty and bug prone as a software platform, granted ELF on Linux and Unix kernels are just as exploitable, but that takes skill. Hacking microsft vulnerabilities? No skill. I'm sorry. That's so third-grade. Moving on. Ahhnuuld is running for the governership of the state. He'll win it. Now, I'm a libertarian with leftist leanings, but I'll gladly put meager and trifling partisanship aside to vote for the man who terminated the Terminatrix. Woot! Got a job as a tutor at a JC to rake in some petty-cash until I go North to Berkeley. Something to kill time, I suppose. Over 3,000 dead in France due to the heat. Mostly elderly, about time something got them off the roads and into their graves to free up some parking spaces. God bless the heat I say, more fogeys it takes out the better. Sick and tired of these shitty old people on the roads these days, with their bad vision, stubborn-ass driving behavior, leaving their blinkers on because their senile asses forget their seizuring right hand flicked it on. Jesus Mary and Joseph, god bless the heat. Jehovah bless the Heat. Yaweh bless the heat. Allah bless the heat (god willing, ofcourse. Heh.) Ganesh bless the heat. With modern medicine and diet, these old people are lasting forever, about time the Elements came into play and just shut some of them down. Cleveland still has no power or water, but it's Cleveland, so who fucking cares, it's not DC, LA or anywhere I care about. Where the hell is Ohio anyway? Someone pull out a map and mark an "X" on where that parking lot is. Godforsaken four and five-letter states. I say we give them to Mexico and Canada. Or better yet, give the states to al-Qa'ida, they'll make better use of the state than the local governments, that's for sure. You'd be surprised how quickly some dour seriously-miffed Arabs can clean house, sorry Ahhnuuld, when it comes to cleaning house, Salafiyyah own you. The temperature seems to be cooling though, so fewer fogeys'll be dropping like bricks, unfortunately. CNN is having its field reporters behave like we're at DEFCON III, with their shirts untucked, no ties, constantly rocking back and forth, straining their voices like thy've just been caught between LURD and MODL rebels in Liberia. Please, someone shoot these people in the ass and show them but a taste of what suffering is, a mere whiff. Saw a friend's MAC12, real nice. Non-functional though, too bad, willing to part with it for $US450.00 which isn't bad. Busted-off firing pin seems to be the problem. C'est la guerre. It is what it is, I suppose. Geewillikers Batman, I hope the ATF won't be reading this. Alright, I'm done ranting. Fuck all of you. Get out of my face.

posted by qalam on Friday, August 15, 2003 at 09:45 a.m.

Bob hope is dead. A comedic legend, a patriot, a man whose years were lived honourably by serving his country with distinction and dedication, his humour inspired men from their doldrums and ameliorated the suffering of those he imparted his good humour to. He passed away this morning, surrounded by his loving family, in peace. One cannot have anything but respect for a man who'd lived as long as he had, without atleast contriving passing commentary...

posted by qalam on Monday, July 28, 2003 at 12:18 p.m.

It seems they've killed the Hussein boys. Debate continues within the Iraqi community as to whether or not it's actually them as it's very strange these two brothers would even be in the same building together, let alone the same room. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't them, and if it was them, well, judging from past behavior they'd made a very stupid decision to place themselves in such close proximity. I digress, I won the Ebay bid for my Sanyo SCP phone. Yay. It ships come morrow, and as if it weren't bad enough a fogey went headlong plowing into a crowd of market-goers in Santa Monica, it seems the same incident repeated itself just now at a Florida outdoor market complete with decrepit fogey driver as wheelman. Is there some fogey-conspiracy in play to slay all the young people?

posted by qalam on Friday, July 25, 2003 at 02:32 p.m.

Ebay, I swear, is the last bastion of wholesale capitalist activity that remains to a great extent rather unregulated, and I praise it for nothing more than that, as I'm being outbid for a blasted cell phone....

posted by qalam on Tuesday, July 22, 2003 at 12:19 a.m.

Outright deception. That's what the president stands both accused, and guilty of. Despite it being a flagrant lie, he, with countenance from CIA, told the American people during the State of the Union Address that the Ba'athist regime of Saddam Hussein attempted to procure Uranium from an African nation that speculation has it to be Niger. The CIA knew this intelligence was of the most questionable and dubious nature, but the job of the CIA when it comes to clearing speeches revolves around ensuring classified data isn't released, and not necessarily that the truth is being told. After all, in a world of grey, the truth has fallen as a casualty of opinion and hearsay. Tenet's recent interrogation before a hearing of government revealed that he himself knew that indeed the "Uranium matter" was a shady and shaky issue to include in a speech, letalone to hold as a piece of intelligence. The only difference between a lie, and an unintentional act of ignorance, is intent, and the CIA informed both the president and Colin Powell that this piece of intelligence is less than reliable, to put it excruciatingly mildly. Yet, he proceeded to include it in the address, and so he lied, and that's impeachable, but how do you impeach someone who didn't even win the popular vote? Alas, I digress. Tenet, the loyal lapdog of administration however will be the fallguy for this scandal, and rightly so.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, July 16, 2003 at 08:06 a.m.

Heaven knows how long it's been since I wrote, I somewhat view this journal as a means to my venting at the world, a private suffering and dissent made public for no other reason than to have it be seen, I imagine. I'm still breathing, the Pyramids are still standing, the world is still turning, alas, I myself am to be written off somewhere in there, I suppose. Gwen said I should have "patience." I find that amusing. People come it seems, and people do, most assuredly, go. Sluts, also, come and go, or, rather "polyamorists," if that's a word. I'm almost experiencing difficulty in recalling her name as I write this, but I have it now. Katie McMillan is a slut. How I despise their sort. Those women with loose limbs and further still, loose intentions who go about the world beneath the banner of "open sexuality" and spread the seeds of distrust among men, these females, who amount to little more than purveyors of disease upon those unwilling and unfortunate few not strong enough to resist the allure of a female who does not resist or play to be elusive, but rather, behaves invitingly, with intentions to befriend and cultivate, only afterwards when an emotional investment has been made, to reveal their sexually promiscuous nature. Of normal men, such women make fascists of us. This spineless, liberal and pathetic lot, these "hippies," what visceral repulsion and disgust overpowers me at the thought of them. Without fealty, lacking a sense of duty or shame, they are no better than animals it seems, which, perhaps, explains their vigilant/vigilante defense of them in the name of "animal rights" or "environmentalism." Of their ranks are a sordid and pathetic lot who deserve to be taken out back, lined up, and mowed down. A dispicable group of nothings and nobody's who behave as though the emotions of men mean nothing, who go through them like kleenex and who will, eventually, when they sense their clocks ticking down, will regret the opportunities lost to them, by their own hands. At any rate, I just had some juice which tasted like bitter death, and so that didn't prop up my mood any.

posted by qalam on Saturday, July 12, 2003 at 08:52 p.m.

I'm watching a Pentagon briefing right now, Rumsfeld's blithering on about how the "De-Baathification process is under way." Now, what the clown knows of Ba'athism is questionable, yet they (him, Bush and some festooned military officer) feel it perfectly moral and right to wipe out a political party simply because a few of that party's twisted leaders ran a despotic government. As icons of democracy and Americanism to the world, Bush and Rummy should not talk about stifling a political party, as that goes contrary to the very views they spout about fighting for and loving, and that's the freedom allowing people to have difering political views and to form parties based on those views. Is what Saddam Hussein did, wrong? Sure. But this country would look the same as Iraq if Republicans ran it decade after decade, with all the wealth and power concentrated in the hands and coffers of the economic and political elite, that bespeaks at its essence, Republican exclusivism. What gave America the right to go around the world and invade other countries? Who gave America the right to not only go into foreign and soveriegn countries based on lies and pretenses, but to destabilize whole regions, and declare that certain political parties are illegal and others aren't? Who gave that right? Does might make right? Does simply having power justify these acts? Is it any wonder why the world considers this country a rogue and dangerously unilateralist? Are the French right when they accuse the Americans of cultural and military imperialism? Granted, the French are in no position to speak to the matter of imperialism, but a broken clock is still right twice a day. Bush himself views that he was chosen by God to be president? No, he was chosen by "old money," not some God. Now PM Blair is under committee investigation for the intelligence he used to justify Britain's complicity in going along with American imperialist designs on the Middle East. And where are these WMD's? If Iraqis had these weapons, at the very least would they not in desperation have used them to save their regime, to hold off American aggression? Yet they didn't. Why? Because they don't have WMDs. So the general reasoning as it stands now for attacking and reshaping Iraq to the whim and will of a Western power is this: there are no WMDs in reality, and instead, the fact that Saddam was just a really bad guy was grounds enough to invade and kill untold thousands of innocent people. People also speak about how quickly the Iraqi forces were fallen, and I'd just like to point out that, not only were these forces abused, underpaid and the object of neglect by Saddam, but they were thoroughly crushed, resources and all, during the 1991 Gulf War which decimated them from the air, and from the air alone. This was done in preparation for this new war on Iraq, so that Iraqis would be easier to fight and destory once American soldiers stepped foot on the ground. This seems to be the most plausible and rational reasoning behind American actions during the last decade up to now regarding the Iraq situation. I'd like to see American bragadoccio manifest itself if it attacked Iran as it did Iraq. The Americans won't allow Iran to have nuclear weapons, but they're well on their merry way, thankfully. They have reactors they're building side by side with the Russians, and importing large quantities of so-called "dual use" material which I pray will be used to develop nuclear weaponry so that the Shi'a State can defend herself against American imperial belligerence.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, June 18, 2003 at 11:43 a.m.

Dropped TU. Got tired of the nitwits who lack vision and clarity of thought to understand the positions I take, nitwits like Doug (abxy11@hotmail.com), for example. There's no growth there, and it's easy to spot. If a person spends over half their time explaining things, as I've done, then it's a safe bet to assume that not many there are in a position to contribute to my cultural or intellectual enrichment, and so, I, like most people, move on. The list was festering with Zionists and pigs who sympathized with them (thusly, their ideology) and I felt myself tiring of their nonsense and intellectual feebleness. Corollary? It's all been excised. All that aside, I'm looking forward to my two (maybe more) years at Berkeley. The taint of conservative thought is something I direly need washed off me, thusly, Orange County must I flee. It's time for me to meet new people, cultivate new contacts, and in a broader sense-- grow. There's simply no progressive thinking in Orange County (that I've run across, anyway) and, well, what's not progressive, is stagnant, and thus, rotting. One can almost glean a sense of it in the air. Berkeley'll amil me my housing contract in October, and then all things currently in play, will be history. I look forward to honing my mind, and whetting my intellectual appetite in a manner Orange County has fallen horribly short of doing. At any rate, I'm taking a Summer math course, it's not challenging, but it's a means to an end, and that's all I see it as. Three weeks ago, I told my former philosophy professor about how I view academia and the learning process. He called me a "stone cold mercenary." I think he meant it as a compliment, though he wasn't smiling when he said it. Now, I love Hessians, but being called not just a mercenary, but a 'stone cold' one at that. I've grown weary of it all, someone banish it all from my thoughts.

posted by qalam on Tuesday, June 17, 2003 at 07:11 p.m.

True to form, the Zionists have once again attempted to sabotage the peace process. Yesterday the slime struck at Hamas' Gaza spokesman Abdel Aziz Rantisi by firing rockets from their helicopter gunships (American ones) at a car the pigs thought Rantisi was in. Well, he wasn't in it. He survived the attack with minor reported injuries. Filling the eyes of Swiss watches everywhere with envy, Hamas struck back with fearsome precision and lightning swiftness, true to its word having vowed vengeance, and through the request to one martyr, boarded a bus on Jaffa Road in Jerusalem, walking through the door and instantly neutralizing sixteen Zionists before the flash and fire, the blast and fury of his testament. Over one hundred and sixteen Zionists nearby were declared casualties as a result his metal-shearing dedication to his noble cause of resistance and proving himself to be the walking instrument of justice. The Zionists then struck Gaza once more killing a Hamas bodygaurd and seven others. In a time of such tension and unease, distress and mistrust, why did the Zionist foe attack the noble resistance? Surely, the filth have demonstrated without doubt and exhibiting no respect for international law, that they care not one whit for the Road Map to Peace, and would in lieu gladly sacrifice the lives of their own civilians if it means striking at the noble resistance, and missing. Without doubt, the international community places the blame for this recent flareup squarely and widely on the ruinous and cowardly shoulders of Israel. Hamas had engaged in no military activity before or during the coalescing of the Road Map and its initial policy initiatives, to warrant an unprovoked attack against their valiant operatives. The Zionists then decided to shatter the calm and violently tear away violence from the clenched jaws of hitherto peace by attacking not masterminds or trainers, not recruiters or planners, but a mere spokesperson. Clearly, the Zionists and their toadies who run Washington have proven themselves not only unwilling but biologically incapable of grasping at threads of peace and have instead fallen back on their innately violent and treacherous instincts to spread terror and violence, and of all times to fall back on those instincts, now. When thoughts of hope and formulators of peace felt --for a fleeting moment-- that now there may be a chance, an opportunity, for a lasting calm, their longings for peace, fragile and delicate, ended up thwarted and dashed by the cowardly and violent acts of what America would have the world believe is actually a "victim of terrorism," Israel.

posted by qalam on Thursday, June 12, 2003 at 01:11 p.m.

It is with great pride and unbridled personal satisfaction that I post the following: Hamas has officially pulled out of negotiations with the Palestinian Authority (PA), namely by breaking off ceasefire discussions with Mahmoud Abbas, or "Abu Mazen" as he's also referred. Hamas' Sheikh Yassin has made it clear that the pivotal issues have continued to go unaddressed, specifically the issue of Jerusalem's sovereignty and the right of return for the Palestinians. With this action Hamas has once again demonstrated its faithfulness to the aims of resistance and proving once more that it aspires to embody the highest manifestations of jihad against the Zionist enemy and its occupation.

posted by qalam on Friday, June 6, 2003 at 10:16 p.m.

Just got the name and number of a cute little lady named Christie while sipping a free Kona Mocha at Rancho. I'm giddy with joy, that, and the fact that I've completed my first book named Mantles of Victimhood, but I've yet to find a publisher.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, June 4, 2003 at 06:29 p.m.

CNN is shameless. Why? I've been over it before. However, they say Hamas is in low-level negotiations with Israel. Hamas claims Israel is "making good steps," but if during the course of negotiations Hamas decides to terminate its use of martyrdom operations as an instrument of resistance, I'll officially convert to Judaism and become a Rabbi.

posted by qalam on Friday, May 30, 2003 at 11:09 a.m.

Another uninspired entry follows. I got my rejection letter from Amherst which I'll now duly go about framing. It's set. Berkeley. Got a call two nights ago from uncles and cousins whom I've never met or seen (father's side) and got a few images via email from a few of them. Offering a free trip to Aussieland (they'll send me my ticket) for a month, can't turn that down. I mean, skin cancer, for free? Now, simmer down, that's a deal. Semester's coming to an end, thankfully, I've had enough shit for a while from invalid professors and peers who look back at me as I gawk at them in amazement at thinking what could possibly keep their skulls from collapsing in on themselves.

posted by qalam on Wednesday, May 28, 2003 at 10:29 p.m.

My dad called me again this morning, for the second time in my life I heard his voice. Thick Persian accent, heard once before yet still surprising. He wants me to come to Afghanistan, and to write him a letter in response to his. The former is possible; I wouldn't bet on the latter. He seemed pushy-- overbearing. The conversation lasted for five to ten some odd minutes. As usual, he called out of the blue; sometime in the morning, eight o'clockish. My uncle also called me from Maryland wishing me a belated happy birthday and to give his congratulations on admittance to Berkeley. Memoirs From the House of the Dead seems interesting, the characters appeal to me already. Gazin seems like Stalin. Spooky.

posted by qalam on Sunday, May 25, 2003 at 12:01 p.m.

I just finished The Fencing Master. It came to a glorious end. Pupil Vs. Student was the idea. Otero ended up getting a foil put through her right eye into her head, even though she was taught the two-hundred Escudo thrust. She was slain with the classic in quarte and over-arm tierce by 'the maestro.' Now, since I've got nothing to do, Memoirs from the Hosue of the Dead -- Dostoyevsky -- is next up in line.

posted by qalam on Friday, May 23, 2003 at 10:40 p.m.

Started reading another masterpiece by Arturo Perez-Reverte, The Fencing Master. Roughly fifty pages in, getting a feel for the characters; I imagine Don Jaime as an older Corso from The Club Dumas, and for some reason, Senora de Otero reminds me of Gwen...

posted by qalam on Thursday, May 22, 2003 at 11:30 p.m.

Bad timing. That's today's theme. PBSFrontline: Party of God (Hizbullah) will air tonight at nine and I'll be sitting in a classroom being lectured to by a Marxist-reject in my sociology class instead of at home, where I should be, listening to Shi'ite brethren denounce the Israelis and brandish their latest armaments. But no, instead, fatehands down this verdict. It's not a total loss, as I could just as easily go online and get the video of the broadcast off the PBS website, but I'd so much rather see it comfortably reclined on my couch...

posted by qalam on Thursday, May 22, 2003 at 02:22 p.m.

Five suicide bombings in the last 48 hours. Both jihad al-Falastini al-Islamiyya and al-Aqsa MB claim responsibility for a blast that took place in Northern Israel neutralizing three to five Zionists using a single martyr. The first bombing Israel incurs today. Eerily, Hamas has made no claim so far. Top Hezbollah officials have yet to make comment on the attacks, reserving their words to better reflect their current geopolitical position. Feel it to be a safe assumption that the "Road Map to Peace" has gone up in smoke; not that the Zionists would've ever granted the Palestinians statehood to begin with, that being a central theme to the Road Map.

posted by qalam on Monday, May 19, 2003 at 03:41 p.m.

Woke today. Again. I'm noting consistency. Never a good thing. Heard a a person on a bicycle blew himself up next to an IDF jeep killing only himself. Well, can't say he didn't try.

posted by qalam on Monday, May 19, 2003 at 02:11 p.m.

It's Sunday in Israel, and if you were on bus number six near the French Hill area, you shouldn't be reading this. Hamas decided to make its position clear on matters pertaining to Mazen's potential meeting with Sharon by sending legs onto Bus Six and killing seven people while injuring 27 others, and in a separate incident at the same time, Hamas sent legs which walked through the door near a roadblock after the first attack, that one only managed to kill himself and no one else. This in East Jerusalem, while before these two events, legs walked through the door near a praying couple who were taken out in the resultant explosion. These three incidents, separate yet connected by the organization that orchestrated them has brought pause to Sharon as he's cancelled his trip to the US on Tuesday. While attacks on civilian population centers are appalling, unless the dignity of an occupied population is respected, and whose rights are acknowledged, these flareups and acts of desperation will only further increase in frequency and intensity. Israel, as an occupying power, existing in violation of numerous UN Resolutions, and being a nuclear power, should have a certain level of control over itself when carrying out raids in the Occupied territories. Instead, what brings people to such acts of desperation and despair goes unnoticed and unheard until tragedy befalls those who were tacitly complicit in the acts of their government by simply validating it by being there.
10:45 p.m.
Saturday, May 17, 2003

Concerned over getting into Amherst. Don't know which I'll choose. Berk or Ammy. Berk's cheaper (relatively speaking, ofcourse) and arguably has wider repute, while Amherst, with its prohibitively exorbitant tuition still appeals to the part of me that knows the environment in which I would like to carry out my studies, despite that after those fleeting two years, I'll be debt until they bury me. Perhaps it should be decided over a flipped quarter and a round of vodka.
09:55 p.m.
Saturday, May 10, 2003

Finished up with all the online paperwork for Berkeley. They admitted me for the Spring of '04, which, despite the wait, allows for a nice buffer of time for me to set things up vis-a-vis housing, finanacial aid, cultivating contacts with the administration so I can get up their ass when I change my major, which I probably will and getting a general feel for the terrain I'll be surrounded by for the next two years. My mom still isn't back from Afghanistan, so she knows none of what's been going on. Nonetheless, I already have an eye set on an overseas graduate school which I'd take hostages over if it meant getting in, but first things first I suppose. I still have a math class to take in order to transfer, which I'll be taking over the summer. it's been overcast as of late, and this morning there was a bit of a drizzle letting itself be known, I imagine if Amherst admits me (and if I actually go) that I'll be surrounded by this type of inclimate weather for some while. Though, it's not bad, I prefer this kind of weather, it adds a nice touch of gloom to things.
04:57 p.m.
Wednesday, May 7, 2003

Found out today I got into Berkeley. Becoming increasingly worried over housing issues. I'll end up changing my major. I'll soon be on my way to Absurdistan, as Hitchens might put it.
10:34 p.m.
Thursday, May 1, 2003

As soon as people begin to think progress is being made on the fronts of Palestinian civil rights and settlement dismantling, Palestinian Islamic Jihad sends legs into Tel Aviv to walk through the door. We, as the international community of concerned citizens shouldn't be surprised. As soon as Mahmoud Abbas, or as he's also called "Abu Mazen" was appointed Palestinian PM, the road was cleared for real progress, atleast as the politically naive would believe. Jihad, among other groups constituting the usual suspects, reject any form of compromise with the Israelis.
05:03 p.m.
Tuesday, April 29, 2003

Mums should be coming back on the 27th of May. Still haven't finished Dumas...
10:53 p.m.
Sunday, April 27, 2003

Got this on my birthday from Sarah, yay. :)
03:43 p.m.
Sunday, April 27, 2003

I'm watching C-SPAN right now, listening to Donald Rumsfeld lie like al-Sahaf to journalists at a press conference. I think Rumsfeld has outdone himself this time. This Zionist patsy has me officially amused, truly, is freedom "untidy"? I don't know where to begin with this buffoon. On the surface he seems to be so amenable to truth and reality, yet listening to him speak in the most befriending old-man-offering-a-lollipop manner, beneath his disarming demeanor and the look on his face which portrays well-intentioned mood and action, betrays the propagandist beneath his guise. The devil's in the details, and it seems propaganda is no different in how deceptively subtle in can be conveyed or outright slathered atop an otherwise straightforward subject. Belligerency finds its manifestation in him.
03:03 p.m.
Friday, April 25, 2003

My aunt and cousin came back from Afghanistan. Got good video, lots of abandoned tanks. I never thought they'd run into German ISAF, let alone allow my aunt to tinker with a weapon. Had to be unloaded. They grow 'em big in Germany though. They brought me back a paktol, which I thought was great, and mosaic of Afghanistan made of colored stones from the region. Just waiting for my mom to come back...
10:36 p.m.
Saturday, April 19, 2003

School tomorrow. Must figure out a way to make today worth a damn. Borders sounds nice...
02:17 p.m.
Sunday, April 6, 2003

Just got back from work. One day a week and I'm thinking I'm working too many hours, a whole, gasp, five. I have to slow things down, you know? For quality effort and all... this fast-paced lifestyle, simply too exhausting. Been meaning to eat at Anaheim's Jagerhaus, I've heard they really lay it down. Probably rated in Michellin with four stars? Who knows...
05:23 p.m.
Saturday, April 5, 2003

Woke up late. Can't stand these days. Days where, as they pass, you become increasingly aware of imminent changes in schedule. Like today. It's Friday, overcast, cold. It's telling me something. Changes of schedule are imminent... and it's true. Spring break comes to an end as 12:59:59 Sunday night creeps ever closer. And as it clicks to 1:00:00, that very morning, I have the distinct honour of... enduring another day of statistics class. Posterity would do well to note that these are dreary times.
04:20 p.m.
Friday, April 4, 2003

Becoming convinced Orange County is sentient, and knows I want to leave. It's conspiring to keep me here.
10:03 p.m.
Thursday, April 3, 2003

I think I have a phobia. I think I'm scared of midgets.
10:01 p.m.
Thursday, April 3, 2003

Something sinister is afoot. The power's just been shutdown in Baghdad, gee, I wonder what may have caused this to happen. Perhaps a missile to the city's generators? Probably. Who has the motive and means to carry it out? The Americans. Why would the Iraqis do it? They're trying to defend Baghdad, screwing with their own grids is only going tomake their task all the more difficult, which is ample reason to think the US hit the city's power. This isn't terrorism? Are those the muffled whispers I hear in the background? Sure it is. The population of Baghdad is being played like chess pieces. First their state TV, now their power, what's next? They get to hear the "dagger" roll down their streets? For a war of liberation, this sure seems otherwise.
01:17 p.m.
Thursday, April 3, 2003

God, I so do love strawberry yogurt...
08:54 p.m.
Wednesday, April 2, 2003

A Hornet's been shot down over Iraq via SAM. Here I thought a million dollar aircraft wouldn't be susceptible to outdated Soviet-era SAMs... surprises surprises.
08:36 p.m.
Wednesday, April 2, 2003

Switch of material from ajeeb.
08:34 p.m.
Wednesday, April 2, 2003

Just got back from work. One day a week and I'm thinking I'm working too many hours, a whole, gasp, five. I have to slow things down, you know? For quality effort and all... this fast-paced lifestyle, simply too exhausting. Been meaning to eat at Anaheim's Jagerhaus, I've heard they really lay it down. Probably rated in Michellin with four stars? Who knows...
05:23 p.m.
Saturday, April 5, 2003

Woke up late. Can't stand these days. Days where, as they pass, you become increasingly aware of imminent changes in schedule. Like today. It's Friday, overcast, cold. It's telling me something. Changes of schedule are imminent... and it's true. Spring break comes to an end as 12:59:59 Sunday night creeps ever closer. And as it clicks to 1:00:00, that very morning, I have the distinct honour of... enduring another day of statistics class. Posterity would do well to note that these are dreary times.
04:20 p.m.
Friday, April 4, 2003

Fox News is wrapping itself in the flag again. Which is an insult to the flag in my opinion. They're refusing to fire Geraldo Rivera. If this were 200 years ago, he'd be hanging in the village square...
07:39 p.m.
Wednesday, April 2, 2003

An Apache Blackhawk helicopter (of Mogadishu fame) has been blown out of the sky over the Shi'ite holy city of Karbala, by what appears to have been small arms fire, or possibly a rocket-propelled grenade. All seven aboard were killed. Casualties of an uneccessary war.
07:00 p.m.
Wednesday, April 2, 2003

Buffoonery, and the people who embody it, like Geraldo Rivera, have once again become the object of derision, and rightly so. This imbecile apparently compromised the operational security of the unit he was "embedded" in by, of all things, flattening an area of sand, and using his finger to outline attack strategies right there on the ground. Yes, that's precisely what he did. One might think a "journalist" of his pedigree and background would know better. Apparently not. The Pentagon requested his dismissal and he was forthwith "dis-embedded". Perhaps the clown thought his reputation would somehow offer him a patina of repute and security, if that's what he thought, he thought wrong. I'm glad to see this idiot once again made an utter fool of. As for Peter Arnett, who went about critizing US policy on, of all things, not an op-ed piece or column, but on live Iraqi state TV, was fired from Natl. Geographic, his employment at the time, and now it appears within 72 hours of his being fired, he's gotten another job. Thank god.
06:12 p.m.
Wednesday, April 2, 2003

Came back from a jog, found a seal so I had to club it do death. Four more days of Spring break left-- fleeting. Almost done reading The Club Dumas. So close, too. About a chapter left. Balkan escorts Corso up a flight of stairs to meet the members... ugh. I'm having trouble discerning what season it is, living in California the ability is stripped from the mind. I'm wondering what my cousin, aunt and mums are doing in Afghanistan right now. Could be anything. I wonder if they're drinking the water. Not adviseable.
03:22 p.m.
Wednesday, April 2, 2003

Ok. It's April Fools Day. I'm not one to observe days like this, but one can't restrain oneself from admitting that the current action this country is prosecuting is utterly criminal, not to mention foolish, naturally, but you need only to read other entries to see which side of the fence I fall on when it comes this issue. The economy is in the tank. The whole world hates the US for doing what it's doing. Thanks to the current junta in Washington, and it's guerilla chief Bush, the goodwill and comfort nations offered the US after 9/11/01 was wasted by his administration's warmongering and threats. Bush is probably the most dangerous person on Earth right now, and the more resistance the Iraqis put up, the more the spotlight shines on the horrific mistake this country is making by attacking the sovereignty of another nation, in the face of international protest and private reproach on the part of first world leaderships. This aggressive unilateral act, and it is unilateral, as beyond lip service PM Blair's own labour constituency is on the brink of mutiny, will only further destabilize and turn the existing snakepit and cauldron of contempt and mistrust that is the Mid East, into more of one.
01:23 p.m.
Tuesday, April 1, 2003

I'm tired. What the fuck ever happened to my youthful energy... life's beaten it out of me. Life has a habit of beating people down. Economics. Wars. Politics. Horrible accidents. The sad realization that most people are idiots isn't a burst of light across my mindscape either. Though as my mind wanders to the ever more odd frame of thinking, I wonder, if I were female, whether I would get five grand for an egg... it's strange. I should be thinking about women given that I'm 20... but just not in that way? I'm probably somehow defective, I smirked when I watched Charlie Rose discuss the death of Mister Rogers with one of his guests. Film people types. I don't know why I was amused at the notion of him being dead. Perhaps it had to do with my viscerally-felt joy in having the injustice of reality proven to me once again, or perhaps it had more to do with the fact that even smiling and probably homosexual do-gooders like Rogers, who over weekends probably tend to their gardens or run naked through daisy fields as though the world was one big car commercial filled with vast inspired expanses and laughing people and their histrionics or blank stares as the next model of car rolls by. Mouths agape. When in reality, life is a commercial for an anti-depressant, I mean, if life had to be a commercial. While viewing it, I would imagine the people gather in the daisy field, look around strangely, as one might upon finding oneself naked on the street thinking one had just been returned to terra firma after an alien experiement. People wandering around, uh, oops, there goes the text on the bottom of the screen. Hah, a Paxil commercial, where, much like life, this crap apparently can cause side effects harsher to deal with than the original depression. Perhaps there's humor in there. Need sleep.
11:18 p.m.
Monday, March 31, 2003

I'm reminded at the moment of the utter hilarity manifested in what seems to be passing for reasoned thought emanating from the bowels of our public figures. Rumsfeld seems outraged that people his administration's army is attacking might, good god, actually wave a white rag then open fire at advancing troops. I often wonder at what kind of hypocrtical Alice-in-Wonderland logic these people subscribe to when making remarks in public. As though they expect a country to "fight fair" when being unilaterally attacked on caprice in lieu of evidence. What clowns. This administration is the butt of every joke in European policy circles, and for damned good reason. The administration is composed of hypocrties, outright liars, spies, belligerents and war-mongers. I hope history looks back on this administration with shifty eyes, wondering and scratching its head, if all of this actually, really, happened.
06:18 p.m.
Monday, March 31, 2003

Furthermore, where the flying fuck are these Weapons of Mass Destruction? Didn't this country go in under the banner of disarming a tyrant? Yet so far, what've they found? Not a damned thing. They've found more Willy Wonka chocolate factories than blasted chemical munitions, or let alone nuclear refining or weapons production sites.
11:17 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

Baghdad is partially on fire at the moment. I wonder if Gen. Franks considers it a war crime to decapitate state television on the flimsy pretext that it was being used to communicate secret messages. Well, to whom? He left the "to whom" portion unaddressed. Naturally. Lest his flimsy assertions be quickly dismantled. The Iraqi irregulars, militia, Fedayeen or regular forces aren't getting their tactical data from state TV, but via radio. Which leaves one wondering as to the motivation for repeated bombing strikes against the city's TV transmitter. Here's a novel thought: perhaps the repetitive and cyclical looping of footage showing caputured soldiers, destroyed American equipment, Apaches and APC's would increase the morale of the people, and instill in them a resistance ideology, and demoralize American forces. Thus creating an obstacle to advancing American forces which destroying a transmitter would subvert easily? Perhaps that's it? It probably is. Instead, he attacks state TV, this Tommy Franks, which sounds more like the nom du guerre of a gangster than a reputable general. Is this not an act of terrorism? To attack a population's primary source of information, leaving them perplexed, scared as to what may come next, paralysed by the fear of an imminent attack? Is this, too, not terrorism?
11:00 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

Hypocrisy, anybody? The prime hypocrite, of course, is the USA. Arab TV stations have broadcast pictures of captured American prisoners of war. US Defence Secretary Rumsfeld claims it is a violation of the Geneva Convention to photograph or humiliate POWs. The same day The Washington Post carried a photo of a blindfolded Iraqi soldier held captive by US troops. Will Rumsfeld prosecute The Post for war crimes? I doubt it. To Rumsfeld’s outrage, Iraqi soldiers have pretended to surrender and then opened fire. Some US analysts claim this is perfidy and a war crime as defined in the 1977 amendment to the Geneva Convention of 1949. Guess who refused to ratify the 1977 amendment? The USA. It merrily violates the Convention by holding Afghan prisoners in Guantanamo, yet gets moralistic about Saddam. The US denounces Saddam as a monster and mass murderer. Very true, but this monster was created and armed to the teeth by the NATO powers, notably the US and France. Indeed, the US helped Saddam produce chemical weapons and warheads whose use finally forced Iran to accept a cease fire. As long as Saddam was a convenient tool to combat Iran, the US smilingly ignored his mass murders. Only when he turned against it did the US suddenly discover all sorts of vices in its former buddy. France's hypocrisy runs as deep as America’s. Force is always the last resort, it proclaimed at the UN debate on Iraq. Why, then, is the French Army so constantly deployed in former French colonies that some observers wonder whether French colonialism ever ended? Remember French brutality in Algeria and Vietnam? If force is a last resort, why did France destroy the unarmed Greenpeace ship, Rainbow Warrior, that protested against French nuclear explosions in the Pacific? Can it really distance itself from its Hutu pals in the Rwanda regime that committed the greatest genocide of recent times, killing 800,000 people of the Tutsi tribe? Germany has protested in the UN about regime change in Iraq. Yet Germany above all stoked the break-up of Yugoslavia, recognising different segments as independent countries. France and other Europeans followed suit. This led to a horrendous sectarian war that killed 200,000 people. Having lit the fires in Yugoslavia, the Germans and French did not have the guts or will to send in their own troops to quell the violence. Instead they twiddled their thumbs till the US, which had strongly opposed Yugoslavia’s break-up, agreed to come in and clear the mess they had created. Regime change in Yugoslavia killed far more people than will die in Iraq, and Germany and France cannot escape the blame. US hypocrisy in Iraq is easily explained by narrow self-interest. Can opposition to the war by others also be explained by narrow self-interest? Is there really no higher morality? Apparently, not.
09:08 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

I'm still on my ass. One would think I've since gotten up after being engulfed by disgust upon hearing the Queen of Jordan blithely present her case for world peace and dandelion puffs. Booknotes on C-SPAN has currently playing Mona Charen, one woman circus act, who authored a book the title of which I won't divulge, as one of you clowns might go out and buy it, no, not you Gwen. She's another rightest spewing slander against people who adhere to political principles whom she deems in the depths of her wisdom to be too far left of "center." But I suppose when you're on the extreme right, like that libelous and defamatory Ann Coulter, then the entirety of the political spectrum seems Red. Blood red. With demons bearing hammers in one hand and sickles in the other. Whores, the whole lots worth of them.
08:53 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

Watching C-Span right now, listening to Queen Noor blather on about the warmth she felt upon being received by her late Husband's family as a wife. Rumor has it though the current Asad can't even speak Arabic, don't know if there's any truth to that though... Queen Noor represents every tried canned and cliched stereotype of what a queen would be like. She talks too damned much, she's too sweet and optimistic and probably doesn't even connect with the Jordanian people, much like the current Asad. Now she's rambling about the importance of pluralism, justice and equality, and I'm wondering where her righteous views manifest themselves when the Arab neighbor to about eight million dispossessed Palestinians (Jordan) doesn't even move its ass to aid the Palestinians. Faisal, a Jordanian associate of mine once said, smirking, "everyone's on the payroll." No damned shit.
07:15 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

As the day draws on, the realization dawns on me as to just how much of a miserable hellhole Orange County, CA is to spend one's time in, irrespective of the amount of time spent. Nonetheless, I needn't lament this fact as Spring Break means a ceasefire in the heretofore onslaught of classes, intellectually feeble professors and peers one can't relate to beyond envisaging their bodies being hurled out of windows. I'm not usually such a bright streak of positive energy, I guess this entry is an exception.
04:28 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

Perverse is the day when bombings are exchanged as gifts to parties involved in active conflict. Perverse, is today, as Palestinian Islamic Jihad claimed responsiblity for a Netanya cafe explosion and directed it as a gift to "our brothers in Iraq".
02:30 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

If anyone knows what the going price for a new SKS is, email me.
01:42 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

On Michael Moore: He's a hero of the proletariat and abused. He's dedicated his life to a cause that most shy away from as it reflects the social decay and inhumanity which perturbs the malleable and psychologically infirm among those in the film industry who only peddle mind-numbing refuse which passes for entertainment in this day and age, which is a sad commentary in and of itself of American society worthy of social critique. Before I digress however, Michael Moore is the only person who hasn't "sold out" and become a another venal money hungry social opportunist, forsaking the abused in films for profit because it doesn't put asses in seats in theaters as most enter those houses of disbelief not to be disabused of comforting notions of right and wrong, or of poor and rich, but simply to kill their mind for a little while. Instead, he pursues and often through depictions of truly engrossing and horrifically heart breaking scenes of peoples' losses, from evictions against whole families in ghettoes by slum lords and police, to corporate heads who refuse to acknowledge that their Titanic is sinking, even though they feel the freezing ice water, as cold as death, gracing their receeded hair lines, that he captures the essence, on a street level, of what a Capitalist system can do and has done to people. But this is neither a social critique of America, nor will it be a disquisition on class theory. However, one can neither wholly detach or even partially sever the connection between these two aforementioned things from what Michael Moore represents, for these two things, at their worst or even average operation, represent the gritty and smeared truth which Michael Moore has been a relentless crusader of in showing the people. It's that simple.
12:03 p.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

Got a letter from the University of California at Irvine about two weeks ago, informing me of my acceptance. I'm in a fugue. I expected to get in, quite actually. Still waiting for word from Berkeley and Amherst. Crapshoot. Want to thank Rancho's Mr. Adams, Mrs. Elschlepp and Dr. West for their assistance.
11:44 a.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

I'm sitting on my ass watching CNN... this shit really hit the fan. I don't think CNN is trying its utmost damndest to avoid looking like a farcical of a journalistic institution. Anyway, my mom's in Afghanistan now. So's most everyone else, a cousin came by yesterday for some reason, asked me a question and inexplicably left. Seriously ajeeb.
11:37 a.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003

Ok, as you can see my journal lacks all the bells and whistles one might see elsewhere. There's reasoning behind that. Call me the prince of understatement.
11:36 a.m.
Sunday, March 30, 2003