Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Come on now ...
I find myself pacing the room saying out loud.. ok.. ok ok ok now… now what…
We all seemed to realize during the July war how much we care. The thing that got to us the most and distressed us the most was some split in views and opinions but it seemed that our united feelings got us through. This is not an exaggerated romantic idea, it’s true. I don’t know what I would have done without my Lebanese friends here. It happened that just before July, we were all too busy to often check on each other. The minute the war started we all gathered up so naturally and with no words or 3atab we just sat down together wiping each other’s tears, throwing a joke here and there, hugging one another and simply crying together. We heard about the wonderful show of unity back home and we felt proud but we all saw signs of disagreement. It seems that we are only left with disagreement at this point and it feels merely exhausting. The two parties are split like a couple going through divorce and the country is self-destructing. Some of us already gave up. The same people who, not so long ago, were expressing their love for this little country of ours but I understand. We expressed our longing and nostalgia but we all produced images of childhood memories. Home is where you grew up. Home is family. Home is memories. Nothing we see or hear about these days represents our romantic idea of home. When the country itself loses its identity how are we supposed to still identify with it?

It is home though. Like it or not, it is all we have. If you lose perspective, think about the people you love. Home is also an accent that you relate to, a name that rings a bell, a shared memory or image with a complete stranger, people you meet for the first time and you connect with. Our home might be going through a rough period but we have to take the bad with the good. Our home doesn’t lose its identity because we are its identity. I love my Lebanon because I love Mar and Hashem and Gitanes and Eve and Maya and Jooj and Laila .. Some of them I loved just because they’re Lebanese. Let’s not give up just yet. Remember our promises to Lebanon? Remember our whispers not so long ago? Under the bombing and the absolute despair of being attacked by a mighty neighboring aggressor we stood tall and proud and screamed that we are Lebanese. I see how when our people fight each other, we might start to lose faith in our country. We are our country though and i have faith in you. We only realize how much we love something when we're about to lose it or when someone else tries to take it from us. I said i felt their boots on my skin and i meant it. I said every rip in the earth ripped in my heart, Ripped in my soul, and as they blocked the sky i lived in darkness, and i meant every word.
Home is where people speak your language, the language of your heart. Come on now ... Don't give up .. Not just yet ..

Friday, November 24, 2006

--- "Geagea was chilling in his denunciations. "We will not accept that this government shall be changed for a government of murderers and criminals," he shouted. And since it is Sayed Hassan Nasrallah of the Shia Hizbollah who has been abusing the Siniora cabinet as the government of "the US ambassador" - and since it is the Shia ministers who have withdrawn from this same cabinet - one could conclude, could one not, that Dr Geagea's "murderers and criminals" were Shia.

Indeed, dwelling on his bloody wartime sins, most of which were amnestied, one has to reflect why Geagea's lads blew up the congregation of the Church of Our Lady of Deliverance in 1994; the court said that he wanted to persuade Christians that Hizbollah had committed the crime.

Funny how these things come back to us. Oddly, Pierre Gemayel's murder has had exactly the same effect on Christians and Sunni Muslims; it has persuaded many of them that the Hizbollah, on Syria's behalf, committed the crime. A distressing thought." -- Fisk, full article here.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Another victim of politics
I will just link Bech's comment on this and i urge all the young Lebanese PS students to reconsider their future in light of the campaign of weapons of mass distraction that we’re being subjected to and that incidentally uses politicians as a bait.

The lurking civil war might very well have started. A friend of mine who taught 4 year old school kids told me that the kids at school were screaming Aoun vs. Geagea in class.

Sometimes i wish Lebanese people were a bit more stupid and a bit less passionate since apparently we will remain divided no matter what, we could at least do it silently and passively. We seem to have adopted starbucks and plastic surgeries but missed out on working hard watching tv like vegetables and passing out with a beer at the end of the day. We need a full dose of conformity and blind loyalty with a side order of laziness, selfishness, indifference and ignorance to stay away from killing each other. I guess we're not fully americanized yet.

We even turned the world cup political. The 'new world order' will be implemented through stupid people like us who will propagate the disorder and give an excuse to world policing and fascism. It's not the 'security stupid', it's not the tribunal stupid, it's good old false flags stupid.

Allah yir7amo

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Sunday, November 19, 2006

My ageless mama

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Happy birthday mama

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

A bientot ... Until the next spring ...

I leave you with a smile and a wish and a thank you for all your comments and support. It has been great.

Next time I’ll write to you it’ll be from a new place and, who knows, maybe with a new tone.
I never summarized what my blog will be about. I didn’t know in advance what I wanted to talk to you about and what my message to you would be. I still don’t.

One thing I know for sure.. The best thing you can do in life besides loving is dancing!

So gentlemen,
Whether you’re half naked schmoozing the ladies in a beach party somewhere, or in your best drinking champagne on a boat in city island, or losing your mind jumping up and down and shaking to a shakira song in some foreign country, just keep dancing.
And ladies,
Whether you’re cute as a button in your heels and your up-do hanging to your man’s shoulder at the opera or swaying to Joe’s Waynik, whether you’re in your sneaks and hip hop hat hopping on bars dancing techno, or you’re twirling in a salsa joint somewhere in the Caribbean, remember the goddess you are and just keep dancing.

Be good to yourselves and each other, don't be to the left or the right be everywhere, don't forget your family and loved ones and the palestinians, help because you can and because it all concerns you, don't be limited by your borders (not in an occupation sense Israelis), don't be an Arab or a Lebanese or an Israeli or an American, be a humanist, live in every direction, now is the time.

And know that the world is yours.

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Ding Dong... The witch is gone!

Last week all reports were showing that Rumsfeld will remain the defense secretary for two more years. Bush heard the message of the voters loud and clear as they expressed their anger about the war in Iraq. Democrats control the house now and are winning the senate (only if a Florida situation could be avoided in Virginia in the next hours). This is the most unexpected surprise and it might well be the first sign of hope for all of us.
Toxic Tango!

- My eyes adore you every morning after
- Every night before, a perpetual disaster
- Your muffin with blueberry on my night stand
- Your coffee in a hurry and your hidden wedding band
- The wrinkle on your nose, the freckle on your shoulder
- Your unsolicited prose, an illusion I could smolder
- I found my home in you, my tower of strength
- What will I ever do, you’re my prison of eternal length
- The way you shake when your body becomes my salvation
- When all is fake, a girl has to delve into her imagination
- My love for you will stay
come shine or come rain
Paroles, paroles, paroles ... I wish I were in love again
- Fixing my missing buttons to keep me warm
- Tearing mine in your silly explosive storm
- Your playful glance towards me across the room
- My daily stare at the reason of my doom
- An endearing rub on my neck as you pass me by
- Testing my means of freedom and practicing the alibi
- You’re the voice in my head, you’re my premonition
- I’ll put a gun in my head if I don’t change my disposition
- Spending your day in my arm
- Thinking of ways to give you harm
- My love, my darling love, what am i to do?
- Just dance and try not to step on my shoe

Monday, November 06, 2006

Is that all there is?

Do you sometimes wonder how and why you got where you are and when will it happen for you? And by it, I mean all. I mean life. Life as we learned it in movies and in novels and in operas. The stage you were promised with, or promised yourself for that matter. I would gracefully step down and get over mourir sur scene but never thought of not being sur scene to begin with. Does it feel to you that the constant elephant in any room full of adults is that lingering question, what the hell happened to my dreams? Does it get down to a point where any food for our lost confused souls has to fall under the ugly self-help and self-assertion and affirmation bullshit we try to convince ourselves with? Somewhere between the who we were and the who we hope to be, do we even know who we are? I still am waiting for my life to take off. Are you? When was the last time you had a day at work that was, in your eyes, as exciting or stimulating or hopeful as the last big ‘life-changing’ exam you passed? When was the last time you went away on a vacation that felt as dreamy or adventurous as a ski trip in school or a weekend away with your buddies in college? When was the last night out on the town or the last party or wedding you’ve been to that felt like that first big birthday party you threw or that club you ran to with your underage friends behind your parents’ backs.
Maybe it’s me but in order for me not to settle in life I had to bet on love. Maybe that’s why whenever I start writing about life; I end up writing about love. Love would be my walk in Jardin de Tuillerie in Paris or even my weekend in Vegas, a sidetrack in life full of flowers and dreams and maybe neon lights. I remember a vacation in Cyprus when I was 14 and I remember sneaking out with my sister riding down the bike track to the bar district where we sat far away and watched the beautiful couples dancing. I also remember our neighbors next door, a young attractive couple. Dad would buy us ice cream at the place next door as we sat down and watched them having dinner at the terrace from across the street. We dreamt of love. The thought that this awaited us in life was so exciting and we secretly hoped for it. I wonder how long that cute couple stayed together. I wonder if she was sick and tired of him not listening to her when she talked and if he eventually couldn’t commit and started dating another woman on the other side of the island. I’ll always wonder about love. I don’t know anymore. I loved once before. The crazy love. The can’t live without him kind of love and I’m afraid nothing will ever live up to that. It is a fact we have to acknowledge that, as we get more practical in life (older), the surprise flowers, the secret admirers, the outrageous feelings and the possibilities just might get more realistic.
Some of my more mature friends tell me they can’t remember the last time they had a fuzzy stomach and they tell me to get real and embrace the idea that loves like that just won’t happen anymore. The dreamers, like me, refuse to settle for any less and still are hoping for fireworks. Should love be for companionship? Someone who would hold your hand to get through your other disappointments in life or is that in itself disappointing? Should love be your only hope for that life of excitement and dreams and hopes and adventure?
Would you wait for a man who would inspire your poems of passion or would you settle with the man you would dedicate them to?
I know I’ll have my coup de foudre with an umbrella for one for now...

Listen to Mike Malloy tonight at 9:00 p.m. here.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Sunday blues ...

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Well it's cold out!

- Rafii can I have half a pound turkey slices?
- Sure, now how are you? Are your parents alright? I was asking your friend about you.
- I’m fine. Perfectly fine and so will Lebanon be. You know what Rafi, everybody in the Arabic world looks down at Lebanese as people who are not serious just because they are ‘liberal’. You have made your share of wise comments to me about LBC and Lebanese women over the years. Where do you come off? I hope you realize that when faced with circumstances like that, Lebanese people have more strength respect and will of power, men and women alike, than any other Arabic people. As women, we fight for our life the same way Palestinian women do and we are as respectful as Saudi women are but when we live we live honestly and we have nothing to hide. Our men that you dismiss as weak have been through hell for decades now. Lebanon, as you seem to so conveniently forget as you write it off as a party land, has paid the price for the cowardice of its neighbors. We might party hard and seek entertainment to get our mind off of decades of war and suffering and economical disasters. So spare me your concern.
- Ok. Well take care of yourself and I hope your family is fine.

A scenario that took place last July. I stepped out of the store with tears in my eyes not knowing what came over me. The poor Rafii didn’t deserve this reaction. It’s true that I had been so frustrated with his chauvinistic attitude against women, with his judgmental attitude towards Lebanese people, with his altered reaction when he first heard me talking in Arabic to a friend and with his marriage proposal to me, even when he has a wife and kids back home, so that, in his words, he can make a better woman out of me as if I’ve been casually pursuing my studies here and trying to make a life for myself only waiting for a man from Yemen to come and save me from my meaningless life and make a ‘better woman’ out of me.

Let me give you another example. I got to know this Egyptian club owner and this Palestinian DJ at this club I like to go to in nyc. I was faced with the same patronizing attitude the minute I said I was Lebanese. It usually is reflected through comments like; Lebanese women are the best people, I would love to go to Lebanon and live in jounieh but I heard downtown is catching up. To these guys, a man who serves alcohol for a living and doesn’t like to go into the Egyptian politics because ‘he’s over it’ and a Palestinian who help people shake it for a living and is also ‘over the Palestinian issues’, being a woman, I must be easy or cheap because I am Lebanese and I party. The point was made through so many comments, trust me.

My real frustration though was not about this attitude towards Lebanese women or women in general. I don’t like to talk about equality between men and women. I think feminism is an oxymoron. Women should not be asking for equality, they should just act it and be convinced with it. Some problems should be solved organically and are better not being dwelled on and reinforced. What frustrates me is the way we are typically perceived, as Lebanese men and women, by the Arabic world. I started talking about that before by describing the beautiful mosaic in Lebanon but seeing this made me want to elaborate here.

As I said this is not about the way women are particularly viewed and I really wouldn’t let these situations normally bother me. I think we have much important issues as a people to worry about and more pressing differences as a nation to reconcile but this article was too much. Now we have Americans describing us as cheap because we don’t do things behind closed doors or under the 3abaya (as some women in Saudi Arabia do as I have heard and seen in our same downtown) and we don’t hide our love for life and for partying. Is it me or just a couple of months ago we were portrayed as a replica of Taliban women. So now we are the extreme of that, we’re a generation of silly women who are haunting men so that we’ll have a chance of a life. The men who live at home are also portrayed as lost causes with no ambitions that are not worth pursuing by these haunting women. The research behind the article was a couple of interviews with a couple of teenagers and the venue was, well, one nightclub.

I’m a competent person in society. I pay my bills and I aim high. I care for others and I like to be informed. It also so happens that I love to dance and, yes, I show skin when I go out to clubs. It happens that, aside from sweating over the bench in lab, I broke a sweat on top of bars in most of the clubs in Lebanon and a lot of major cities in the world. It so happens that, as opposed to the vulgarity one comes across in nyc clubs, the clubs in Lebanon still maintain a level of class. It also happen that, from what I hear, other Arabic countries, like UAE, are following the trend and emulating the free spirit and fun loving life style of the Lebanese people. It so happens at the same time that only Lebanese people end up with the same reputation over and over again.

I do acknowledge that there is a general feeling of despair in our beloved country and that there’s a shift in values and an exaggerated care for the materialistic. There’s a global sense of depression and an inclination towards business and a quick buck as opposed to intellect, in some cases. We all know that this feeling is a direct result of being in and out of wars for the past decades. This is the main reason we delve into a life of immediate fun. What’s the excuse of the other Arabic countries? There is a continual feeling of frustration with our country and our government and the impotent repetitive political and economical events that might leave one wanting to live for the moment and to look for easier faster solutions. There’s a sense of defeat and lack of dreams. There’s a lack of believing in better days. Again, what’s the excuse of other Arabic countries? Dictatorships? Well revolt. We have done more than you did even when it wasn’t enough. Globalization? Fight it. Lack of industrial power? They certainly had a chance to prosper intellectually yet our universities remain the best in the ME, for once. You think you’re suffering from the Arabic Nakba still, we certainly took the plunge for that. You think you’re better and you have the right to criticize us? Stop emulating the Lebanese life style then, back us up and protect this little country in times of wars, and maybe then you can earn a higher moral ground and teach us how we should cope with stress and live our lives. Until then, keep quiet.

I think the image about Lebanon in the Arabic world started in the 50’s and 60’s. Those were different times in the Arabic world. Lebanon was viewed as the most ‘liberal’. That, for some reason, was synonymous to the least serious country. Throughout the wars we’ve risen and celebrated life over and over again. All the while maintaining our worldly status and our level of talent and intellect. The only impression we seem to leave on neighboring Arabic countries is the one left by our entertainers and our free media. The hypocrisy of this situation is that most of these Arabic countries live and celebrate quietly. The close mindedness is that just because we reflect an image of life and fun, we are considered cheap and far from worries. Just because we dress as we wish and we party and we live, we are labeled as non-traditional, non-religious and silly, men and women. We are criticized because we have gay clubs because homosexuality is still not accepted in the Arabic world. Do other Arabic countries have a lower percentage of homosexuality? I sure don’t think so but again we don’t hide. Again, just because a man cares about his appearance and a woman dresses as she wishes and act with confidence and independence doesn’t make him a weak boy and doesn’t make her a whore. My sister prays and goes out and in Ramadan she doesn’t drink at the club since she fasts. She’s a true believer and I always admired that in her. I wish most of the people who don’t leave the mosque and judge others would have half as much faith as she does.

Seriously now, where do they come off?

But anyway, there are issues far more important to worry about like Saddam’s death sentence coinciding with the mid-term elections for once.
(pic: a mosque and a church in downtown, close to where i live, right across the street is my favorite club in Beirut)
Those guys.

Do you have a guy in your life like that? A guy who. You would give the world to. Easily. Not knowing why. Not knowing when, it all started for you. He makes you smile and gives you back that feeling of excitement. You tuck him in every night. Mentally. And send him a kiss. Out there in the world. You think of him and cry. Happily. In the middle of a busy day. Just like that. You look down and hide your smile. Touch your neck and flip your hair. And even blush in your deep thoughts. You might have had a story. That you treasure deep in your heart. With no regret. And maybe not. Maybe he broke your heart. And maybe not. But you miss him. Equally. He's your secret. And yours alone. And even when you’re love starved. You know he’s not for you. But that’s not why you keep him in your heart. You love him more when he's not there. And it’s ok. It keeps you happy. In some strange way. You know what you are to him. You know exactly what you are not. You know when he means to keep you around. Just in case. You know when he doesn’t. Anymore. It will never be enough for you. You know you’re a woman who doesn’t settle and doesn’t go by these terms. Nonetheless, you indulge a fantasy. You send him out there. Out in a thought. You keep him alive in a memory. You don’t kill the dream. Not yet. You don’t dare to write him off and you shy away from having him materializing. He is not to be real. He’s better than reality. He’s the man in your dreams. He’s a sparkle of recklessness. A promise for more heartbreak, more tears and more feelings. And it’s exquisitely painful. And you can’t get over it. After all he makes you smile. After all he’s just a thought.
You might not have that. I do. And i do it with no regrets.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Our times
It is true what I suspected. I get attached to people because I get nostalgic towards everything that happened in my past and I like the memory that corresponds to and gets evoked with certain faces from the past. I also have this very strong mental association of each person I know with a set of emotions that go with them like a short movie in my head and each movie has its own soundtrack and colors and smells. Seeing you again reminded me of hour long discussions about the Pagan origin of Christian traditions, of screaming at the radio listening to Michael Baisden, of running out of lab at 3 in the afternoon when the boss is not looking to watch Dr. Phil, of politics and life and love and your beautiful Jamaican colors, of your support during my desperation over the war in Iraq and mine during your desperation in love, of fighting me for being an atheist and accusing me of lacking a soul and changing your mind when I prayed with you for the recovery of the king of soul who made us both cry as we missed our fathers.

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On paper ... Off the mind ...

A couple of American soldiers or so were killed in a suicide attack in Iraq.
Let’s just be simple about this. The soldiers are clearly there because they’re idiots. They’re poor men gathered from ghettos and from the projects and the poor neighborhoods. They’re students who want to write off some loans or just mere idiots who think they’re on some kind of a mission other than policing the greasy interests of the stuffed suits in the region. Yet some are just thirsty for blood as the well-anticipated Seymour Hersh report will soon reveal. I have to acknowledge that the Iraqis who are operating against the Americans are resisting an occupation. We can't ignore the additional civil war turmoil which is cause by direct hatred of the different sectarian groups towards each other as well as by the covert false flags by outside groups turning these against each other, the Israeli, the American and the Iranian interference in the matter, but simply really why are the Americans fighting the Iraqis?

The resistance by the Iraqis might be carried on as a form of pressuring the government of a certain defined enemy. This is how small militias operate. I would assume this would be the only reasoning behind spilling bombs into civilian areas in Israel proper. As wicked as these actions are, I could understand the strategic significance of an unbalanced war against a much stronger occupier that is inflicting tortures and terror on the people it occupies. The problem in the case of Iraq though is that the American government had sent its troops abroad. Do you remember an old little cute movie with Dani Devito where his wife gets kidnapped and he doesn’t pay the ransom because he wanted to get rid of her in the first place? It leaves the kidnapper in a very embarrassing and hopeless situation. I think the American government can’t care less about those American kids dying there so really what’s the point of the resistance operations if the husband is not pressured? Instantaneous self-defense maybe so I presume the American troops are inflicting suffering that, to the people’s judgment, deserves such a response (Abu Ghreib maybe?). In the larger sense a moral obligation of freedom fighting towards an occupying force, of course.

That still leaves me wondering about the persistent motivation of those American kids who are there. So the troops find themselves stuck there because no one cares to bail them out. The Iraqis have to resist since it’s their national duty, fighting each other in the process as well due to a sudden release of authority that left them with territorial struggles as a priority. The American government is profiting and had assigned the Iraqi government as cover. Iran is negotiating …

How will this ever end? What country is next? Really what was the war in Lebanon about? How absurd is this? Only 2 months ago a bunch of Israeli kids and Lebanese kids were ready to kill each other. Why? Who do we do it for? The sons of an occupied land will always find a moral reason but what about the sons of the empire who do it just so the sons of bitches in power get richer? Where is the motivation there?

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Whispers in the woods ...

And a wave of her scent
Lighting up the dark --
Was it cold that night?
Did she slant his destiny
away from harm’s way?
Was it cold,
or was it her shadow
in the meadow
playing with the light?

And a vision of her face
Lurking in the corner --
Did he strut in the moonlight
down the hills of pine,
down the cedar road?
Did he wrap his tired shoulders
with a garment of oak?
Or did his languished limbs pine
to the forgotten hills?

And a dream of her robe
shivering in the wind --
Did the grass lick his finger tips,
cold as the stones cold as the grains,
swollen like the half-ripe cherries,
electrifying like autumn chills?
Did her eyes sparkle like laughter in the woods ...
Her lips golden like half-open flowers Call his name?

And a wave of her scent
Lighting up the dark --
And a whisper and a dancing shadow ...
And his cold hands,
hugging her hair like an amber comb,
stroking her cheeks like beats of gentle rain,
like the glittering shine on the flickering stream,
like tender dew distilling down slowly on a green waxy stem ...

Did she pass him through?
Or was it the morning ray,
sweeping through the night
on a November day?

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Happy anniversary
An interesting video

here and some for fun here, here, here and here.

"US Soldier Killed Herself After Objecting to Interrogation Techniques"
By Greg Mitchell

"Now we learn that one of the first female soldiers killed in Iraq died by her own hand after objecting to interrogation techniques used on prisoners.

According to official records, she died on Sept. 15, 2003, from a "non-hostile weapons discharge."

She was only the third American woman killed in Iraq so her death drew wide press attention. A "non-hostile weapons discharge" leading to death is not unusual in Iraq, often quite accidental, so this one apparently raised few eyebrows. The Arizona Republic, three days after her death, reported that Army officials "said that a number of possible scenarios are being considered, including Peterson's own weapon discharging, the weapon of another soldier discharging or the accidental shooting of Peterson by an Iraqi civilian."

But in this case, a longtime radio and newspaper reporter named Kevin Elston, unsatisfied with the public story, decided to probe deeper in 2005, "just on a hunch," he told E&P today. He made "hundreds of phone calls" to the military and couldn't get anywhere, so he filed a Freedom of Information Act request. When the documents of the official investigation of her death arrived, they contained bombshell revelations. Here’s what the Flagstaff public radio station, KNAU, where Elston now works, reported yesterday:

"Peterson objected to the interrogation techniques used on prisoners. She refused to participate after only two nights working in the unit known as the cage. Army spokespersons for her unit have refused to describe the interrogation techniques Alyssa objected to. They say all records of those techniques have now been destroyed...."

She was was then assigned to the base gate, where she monitored Iraqi guards, and sent to suicide prevention training. "But on the night of September 15th, 2003, Army investigators concluded she shot and killed herself with her service rifle," the documents disclose."

Full article here

And i'm in anticipation of Hersh's full disclosure:

“There has never been an American army as violent and murderous as the one in Iraq”

Pulitzer-winning investigative journalist Seymour Hersh slams Bush at McGill address.

Martin Lukacs

“The bad news,” investigative reporter Seymour Hersh told a Montreal audience last Wednesday, “is that there are 816 days left in the reign of King George II of America.” The good news? “When we wake up tomorrow morning, there will be one less day.”

Hersh, a Pulitzer-prize winning journalist and regular contributor to The New Yorker magazine, has been a thorn in the side of the U.S. government for nearly 40 years. Since his 1969 exposé of the My Lai massacre in Vietnam, which is widely believed to have helped turn American public opinion against the Vietnam War, he has broken news about the secret U.S. bombing of Cambodia, covert C.I.A. attempts to overthrow Chilean president Salvador Allende, and, more recently, the first details about American soldiers abusing prisoners at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq.

During his hour-and-a-half lecture – part of the launch of an interdisciplinary media and communications studies program called Media@McGill – Hersh described video footage depicting U.S. atrocities in Iraq, which he had viewed, but not yet published a story about.

He described one video in which American soldiers massacre a group of people playing soccer."

Full article here.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Repeated thoughts ... Still no answers ...

8:00 a.m.
I feel so happy today I can scream! Is life finally catching up? I love it when things shake off a little and you get a peek into what you will do next and your heart can’t contain the joy of the excitement. Every turn in your carrier presents a new life in a new place. It felt so good to wake up today without any feeling of guilt. The first thing I usually get in the morning is a quick flashback from the day before where I focus on the negative and I sink into panic attack. This morning I only have flashbacks from a wonderful day of laughter hope and champagne.
Such a great day!!

8:30 a.m.
I should stop reading Ha’aretz. It is so depressing. Why are they still launching those air raids on Gaza? Why this excess use of power and how is that fine? What is the purpose of this? To kill all the Hamas men and Hamas women and Hamas babies?
- Dan stop it!
He keeps putting the moustache and the eye patch on and he scares me looking like that. Yesterday we decided that a phd is like pregnancy. Once you’re in, you’re stuck, there’s no way out before the defense a.k.a. delivery. Your gynecologist, just like your committee members, comes along to help you out but in the end you’re the only one who has to push and hurt. Your last meeting with them is equivalent to your last visit to the doctor when he tells you you’re on your own and next time he sees you you’ll be in a great deal of turmoil. You might make your life harder if you don’t do your exercises and be responsible but at the end all will suffer. You know it will result in something that theoretically should be great but will only result in more work, responsibilities and more guilt. Then we agreed it’s more like IVF because you go out of your way to make it happen and you only have yourself to blame when you’re screaming. Ok enough, happy thoughts.

9:00 a.m.
That professor yesterday kept asking about my next plans. The one I met in Germany is waiting for an email and the one in London seemed excited about having me join her group. But wait … Am I not going back home? I forgot how my feelings were before the war and how they changed with it. I love so many things about Lebanon. But I hate so many other things. I left for a reason. It did turn out to be a mistake though. Did it? Still not sure. And now what? I don’t know where I belong anymore … Will deal with it later anyway. But when? What will happen to the cats? Can I ship them? To work there is a major step back. Does it matter? And to whom? How will I live there again? There’s no online shopping but who needs it when everything is accessible? Everything is so chaotic. It is adorable though and so relaxed. And the beach … I could move to San Diego for that. I have a lot of friends there. Maybe Nice? Family. Do I want to live in France for sure? It’s a step closer to home and I do like it there. Why not go all the way home then?. Is it just work? Who cares? Everybody works. Arabic countries? No way. London is another option. Family. A lab I really like. Do I want to stay in a lab? Not sure anymore. I do like the search, the challenge and being at the edge of science. It makes more sense to stay in it to go home eventually. Academia is safer for Lebanon. It’s such a tedious life though. No money. Who cares about money? I never did. If I don’t then why not just go back home? Lebanon feels like the small town people leave to go live the city life. No one actually builds a life in the city. I will never belong here and I’m starting to detach from there. I should take that step before it’s too late. I have to decide where I want to live and the job opportunities follow. Or is it the other way around? It’s great to have the freedom to decide. Or is it? Sometimes I wish someone would tell me what to do. I do love so many things about Lebanon … or is it only in my head? ….

Will see how the rest of the day goes …

Update: 11:00 p.m.
Evil twin annoying the hell out of me!

Update: 12:00 p.m.
Had lunch with L., she recently got fired. Try telling a 50 year old that she will find another job easily when you've been trying telling yourself that all day

Update: 2:00 p.m.
Went to a seminar. I really think the presenter was a prototype of the next generation robot scientists. I don't know what a soul is exactly but i'm assuming it's whatever this person lacks!

5:00 p.m. Happy hour, told rightwinger Bush advocate Israel supporter professor to go srew himself.

5:01 p.m. Left happy hour.

6:00 p.m. Bush said again today that he's very pleased with the outcome in Iraq. Some people still think the war in Iraq was about bringing freedom to the Iraqis. It is so depressing to know that we have to share the earth with so many idiots. And to know these idiots, more than none, are running our lives.

6:30 p.m. What will happen to this world? I don't know if it's comforting to think that the world has known worse super powers in the past or if it's just disturbing to see it all happen again. Mike Malloy said on his last show, we wonder how the Germans let it happen? look at yourself.

7:00 p.m.

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8:00 p.m.
Allo, shou fi mafi
tayyeb i'm going out..

11:00 p.m.
That was fun enough for a Wednesday night ...
Hope to wake up with panic having left me. Hope people will vote democrat in the mid-term elections. Hope a long life to my mom. Hope my nephews' little ears had forgotten the nasty sounds of the war. Hope we all forget the hurt and some turn of events stop the suffering of the rest.
I'm tired ...
Good night

I hate Rachel Ray and Tyra Banks and Bill Oreilly and i really don't know why America runs on Dunkin!