ISIL agents of the Dajjal.

For those who have been following my writings, there are countries I have been warning about since the Fall of Baghdad in 2003.

These countries were/are  Yemen, Turkey, PAKISTAN Bahrain and Saudi Arabia.
The ones who designed the fall of Iraq into Darkness in 2003, are the same ones who are designing the tearing apart  the dismantling of the above mentioned countries. Do I have to name them for you again and again and again ? THINK.

ISIL is nothing but a weapon, a weapon of mass destruction, a mean to an end.

Still no one knows who ISIL is...you speculate, and you keep speculating, and in these speculations, arms are sold, countries are destroyed and lives are snatched.

ISIL are land mappers, their caliphate is the caliphate of the Anti Christ. Who is the anti Christ ?
Well you got to answer that one, if you can answer that one, you will know who ISIL is. The Anti Christ has many agents working for him by the way, not just ISIL, again you need to THINK.

Myopia requires that one looks at one tree and forgets the forest.  Same with ISIL, they look at the young delinquent recruits averaging an age of not more than 25, dissatisfied, lost in depression, alienation and suddenly latch on to something that gives them meaning and promises them Paradise, Bliss.... You are only seeing one tree you don't see the forest. Myopia.

Who moves ISIL, who orders ISIL, what has ISIL achieved for MUSLIMS, for ISLAM, for MOHAMMED is the Question.

Come on it is so simple....so obvious.

#Trumposhti

Trumposhti is a term of Arabic endearment that I HAVE COINED (don't go stealing it) to call the new President of the United States of America  - Trump.
I actually like the guy, believe it or not.
First of, he makes me laugh. And I can do with some humor.
Bush was/is a moron and Obama a lousy charlatan snake charmer. So Trump is a breath of fresh air.
Furthermore, I wanted to make sure  I had not fallen into some ideological right wing snare, so I went around and asked people what they thought of Trumposhti.
And to my great surprise, people were fine with him. Not that they really cared about the USA, they don't, understandably so, but they were fine with him.
The overwhelming response I received was ---  " At least he is clear".
And in an age of universal deceit, clarity is not such a bad thing.

A Deep Malaise...

Here is this Insomniac, with yet another cup of bitter coffee, overtaken by a deep malaise.

As I made sure, my mom was in her bed and not slouching on the sofa, I was reflecting on how difficult old age must be.

Then one thought took me to another...first the elderly, a very neglected group worldwide, more than children, also a group who suffers much taunting and different forms of abuse, from psychological to physical either by caretakers, in hospices, in hospitals, in pensioners homes, in "mouroirs" ....and obviously in war zones, victims of violence, brutality, loss, displacement and endless grief.

And another thought took me to another .. from how difficult it is to become old and fragile, vulnerable, to the difficulty of living in general.

I see it on people's faces, in what they fail, omit to say, in their sighs, in the brave fronts they put up, in their escapism, in their outbursts, in their withheld rage, in their pleas, in their race towards something so elusive they can't even define it.

And another thought took me to another...

Is  this just a foretaste of the new world order ? Where most can't make ends meet apart from those living in bubbles, where most struggle daily to keep some invisible lid on ...lid on what ? an implosion ? an explosion ?

Is this the new world  order of people losing their minds, breaking down or burning out ...or is it the pace, the intensity of the pace, the rush hour, the whirling madness of "getting things done" before, before what ? before an apocalypse ?

Is this the new world order where people drown themselves in ideologies, celebrities, tv screens, reality shows, cyber space, the delirium of religious dogma, drugs, booze, sex, porn...

Is this the new world order of broken identities, uprootedness, loss of meaning, a nihilism so pervasive , a make believe of normality...

Is this the new world order, where everything is fast; fast love, fast sex, fast food, fast consumption , fast cars, fast vacations, fast processors, fast enlightenment, fast guns....the gobbling up of what ?

Is this the new world order, a tall order of mediocrity and intellectual poverty ? Where everything has become difficult; from social relations, to family relations, to finances, to living conditions, to living environment, to living pace, to cities that can't breathe no more, to trees that can't breathe no more, to skies that can't breathe no more,...

The new world order of over stimulation; false needs, false desires, false successes, false priorities, false relations,  false selves....where all is processed beforehand, pre-packed and pre-conditioned .

No wonder I feel this deep malaise, no wonder I feel it in the atmosphere, in everything around me, in the streets, in the mosques, in the churches, in the malls, in the souks, in the offices, in the neighborhoods, in each and every single one....

As for those who live in bubbles, well you know what bubbles do don't you ?

Do I have a solution ?

Yes, in a way I do. Stick to the simple things in the Present...because all the rest is just a question of survival.

Homecoming - Split in Two.

Hello Blog, long time, been two years, did not miss you much, missed Iraq though, the Iraq of my memories, niched somewhere refusing to be forgotten.

I do not miss the current Iraq, it's gone to the dogs, split in two, three and maybe even four.

Talking about splits. Remember that thing I devoted a whole post in its "honor". if you click on the link, you will get to see its "beautiful face". Anyway I received this from it dated 8 July 2016 (here is its 2 minutes of online fame)

"I hope someone sticks in sword in your rotten vagina and splits you in two. 

Ive decided that its been a while since you have been degraded . I plan for you an online equivalent of Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo all rolled in one ....stay tuned."

What better way to write again, without this lovely invitation ?

Not that I wish to beef up that thing, beef up the inexistent part, that need beefing up and sexing up to use Tony Blair words before the United States and not so Great Britain decided to rape Iraq and split it in two or three or four.

Maybe I am after all,  Iraq's Vagina. The Iraq's Vagina in the collective unconscious of Cyber space. Maybe my Iraqi Vagina, is the lieu where all lust and death meet, where transcendence happens, where living animals get ejaculated, propelled, like missiles,  in search of an ovum, a territory to fecundate, into a new world order. Giving birth to the New Middle East, the Birth Pangs in blood with no Cesarean.

Cesarean,  you call them in America, C-section, possibly because you can't pronounce Cesarean. Maybe in your immense knowledge Cesarean means to you Caesar as in Caesar Salad. Forget Caesar the Emperor, am not counting on you for History.

Iraq and my Vagina are to be split in two, My Iraqi Vagina is to be split in two.  Why persevere ? It already happened. I delivered in C-Sections....cretinous cunt sections....each section has its own cretinous cunt...tiny emperors emerged from my Iraqi vagina, with the charisma of fleas...fleas gathering on dead corpses, carcasses so putrid, so rotten  that even vultures wish not to approach.  

What are you persevering for ? There must be something more, something else ....It must be that this Iraqi territorial vagina is so tasty, or that it holds more treasures, that you haven't managed to reach...and maybe will never reach.

All this lust and death impulses in vain, no transcendence for you...however hard you try.

Iraq will forever elude you, missiles, bombs and all....you have not penetrated its soul, for its soul is a fortress, a vagina within a vagina...and its womb a caldron, that will burn whoever nears it without reverence. 

This is the Hell that is Iraq to use Saddam's final words...a hell you haven't fully tasted yet.



P.S : Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo are just appetizers, a foretaste for you... Enjoy.
hahaha

Iraq @ The Sound of Silence.

Hello Blogger my old friend...

Hello darkness my old friend,I  came to talk with you again...because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping and the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains, within the sound of silence.

I came to disturb the sound of silence.

I love disturbing people...I was always told that I was a nuisance. I lived up to the expectations of me.

Silence as a cancer grow...

I can assure you, you have tumors growing in you, the size of grapefruits...

Why you hate grapefruits ?

I was told am a nuisance...I just love annoying you...in between the soda and popcorn breaks...

What ? am I to announce my own funeral -so you can rest in peace ?

Would you like to see the last living one of us signing her own death warrant ? Am sure you would, in between breaks of soda and popcorn...

I love the way my words pop don't you ? I love popping them like corn on a hot stove

Just to remind you of the sound of silence.

Iraq's Shattered Heritage.

I am breaking my silence with ruins....this is a wound that will never heal, not even in my afterlife.
I need not explain much, as I have already explained much in the past.
You  are the ones who will be doing much explanation on the Day of Reckoning.
You don't have to watch the testimonies of the living,  if you don't want to, if you can't spare your precious empty time, a time devoid of substance...
But you are being watched, observed....and all is transcribed, noted down,  recorded...all.  And even if your consciences are dead, there is the One that is Alive and never dies.

Passwords...

I am a terribly disorganized female...I find order in chaos...I am not structured, nor methodic...am a willow...a weeping willow...

I bend, yield, like bamboo that seeks growth in mud water...that's my nature.

I also lose passwords in the mud...trying to survive the mud. You must have a password...or you can't get through...I have a password and I keep loosing it, or it keeps being changed.

I am told to write, when my muse left me in the mud...I am told -- write anyway...
tell them, while bent, about willow trees...weeping willows and weeping widows...
tell them about orphaned girls
tell them about the severity of life and the severity of survival...
tell them, for they are a people living in satin like...illusions.

Tell them...and dig stories out of your old ragged sack
tell them when it is not satin nor velvet
tell them...for passwords are meant for all.