This is a continuation on my previous post "Outcasts."
I am in a writing mood, so I guess you will have to catch up with me...if you wish that is.
There is something very "irritating" about men in general, and Arab men in particular, and am not known to mince my words either...
Maybe "irritating" is an understatement...
But again, I shall concentrate on Arab men, as Western men do not interest me much, from a sociological point of view, that is ...They have their own women to deal with. I am not sure what Western women are all about, though.
And no, am no longer an internationalist, for what I deem to be obvious reasons. So I don't really care about...Westerners.
So for the sake of "political conveniency", I shall stick to Arab men.
Some may argue that it is not the time for "it.". But then, they have always argued that it is not the time for "it."
For centuries they have been saying precisely that - " Not the time for it."
There was the Ottoman empire, then Western Colonialism, then the birth of the Zionist state, then the incessant Imperial Design on our part of the world, so for them it is never the right time...
And more and more women are being pushed to the margins being the "vulnerable" group they are deemed to be...I mean look at the American occupation of Iraq, 70% of those in a precarious situation are women. So for how long shall we keep it for "later" ?
Now is the time. Now or never...
I have this recurrent fantasy, I want to share with you. That of taking every Arab man I come across, hold him from his collar or beard, as the case may be, and violently shake him...
Sometimes, the fantasy goes a little overboard, and I see myself slapping him across the face, nothing nasty really, just wanting to wake him up from his self imposed ideological torpor...
A couple of slaps acrosss the face and my shouting : "Now you look at and listen to me...for a change."
And in the fantasy I would go on and say:
"For centuries, I listened to you...I heard everything you had to say. I felt your every mood, your ups and downs...your monologue stories, your problems, your burdens, your responsibilities...I have sympathized and on more than one occasion, I have even carried them for you...Now it's enough. Now you listen to me for a change for I have something important to tell you...
I've always had something important to tell you, but you never really cared. Your mother said you are the center of the universe and you believed her.
I was told to see you as a god, but you have failed me over and over...then I discovered God and saw that you are only a statue... Now I worship none other than God...you on the other hand, can go on and pretend to be one...am sure your mother will agree...but for me you are only a statue...an idol...And I have learned from the prophets to smash statues...Yours.
The ones you have erected in your name and in your own image...perpetuating the myth. I do not care for myths. Am after the Truth and you are part of the fable...
For many years I believed you. For many years, I listened to you. For many years I obediently observed your rules...Even when I was a so-called revolutionary, I submitted to your versions...Today it is different. You might as well get used to the difference...
A more powerful army has come forth, an equally nasty army and even nastier has come forth...And you are gone. And we are left behind and for those of you who have survived it, I am tired of holding your own banners...
I look around me and there is no one...No banner, no flag, no voice...no presence.
I was told to shut up and listen. I was told you are the center. But now, there is no one. And the center is gone. There is only a circumference...
I am suddenly told, do it alone. I am suddenly left alone. Suddenly the family is gone. Suddenly the "pillar of strength" has crumbled in front of my eyes...
Now what? Who is your spokesperson? Who will you quote?
I am suddenly asked to do it alone when for decades you told me I could not, should not...
What do you have to say now ? What do you have to say aside from your usual judgmental, crossed legged positions...what do you have to say now that I am forced to sell "it". Sell your slogans, sell your pride, sell your honor?
What do you have to say now that I have to do the unthinkable, the unspoken?
Where are your judges, your theologians, your tribal chiefs...?
Why have you gone so silent? Why have you become so sheepish?
Where are you today o' mighty ones? Where is your honor, your virtue, your own mothers?
Where are you ?
Why has your voice gone mute...when I was shouting from behind bars...
Why has yours gone silent, when I was there pleading ?
And the little you have left, the little you can voice, you still manage to crush me with it...instead of directing it where it ought to go...
You can only flex your muscles here...
I pity you, yet at the same time, I see you have brought it onto yourselves...somehow, somewhere...
Had you listened to me, maybe just maybe...you would have not felt my hot fiery Wrath.
Let that become a lesson for all else to learn from".
Painting : Iraqi female artist, Betool Fekaiki.
I am in a writing mood, so I guess you will have to catch up with me...if you wish that is.
There is something very "irritating" about men in general, and Arab men in particular, and am not known to mince my words either...
Maybe "irritating" is an understatement...
But again, I shall concentrate on Arab men, as Western men do not interest me much, from a sociological point of view, that is ...They have their own women to deal with. I am not sure what Western women are all about, though.
And no, am no longer an internationalist, for what I deem to be obvious reasons. So I don't really care about...Westerners.
So for the sake of "political conveniency", I shall stick to Arab men.
Some may argue that it is not the time for "it.". But then, they have always argued that it is not the time for "it."
For centuries they have been saying precisely that - " Not the time for it."
There was the Ottoman empire, then Western Colonialism, then the birth of the Zionist state, then the incessant Imperial Design on our part of the world, so for them it is never the right time...
And more and more women are being pushed to the margins being the "vulnerable" group they are deemed to be...I mean look at the American occupation of Iraq, 70% of those in a precarious situation are women. So for how long shall we keep it for "later" ?
Now is the time. Now or never...
I have this recurrent fantasy, I want to share with you. That of taking every Arab man I come across, hold him from his collar or beard, as the case may be, and violently shake him...
Sometimes, the fantasy goes a little overboard, and I see myself slapping him across the face, nothing nasty really, just wanting to wake him up from his self imposed ideological torpor...
A couple of slaps acrosss the face and my shouting : "Now you look at and listen to me...for a change."
And in the fantasy I would go on and say:
"For centuries, I listened to you...I heard everything you had to say. I felt your every mood, your ups and downs...your monologue stories, your problems, your burdens, your responsibilities...I have sympathized and on more than one occasion, I have even carried them for you...Now it's enough. Now you listen to me for a change for I have something important to tell you...
I've always had something important to tell you, but you never really cared. Your mother said you are the center of the universe and you believed her.
I was told to see you as a god, but you have failed me over and over...then I discovered God and saw that you are only a statue... Now I worship none other than God...you on the other hand, can go on and pretend to be one...am sure your mother will agree...but for me you are only a statue...an idol...And I have learned from the prophets to smash statues...Yours.
The ones you have erected in your name and in your own image...perpetuating the myth. I do not care for myths. Am after the Truth and you are part of the fable...
For many years I believed you. For many years, I listened to you. For many years I obediently observed your rules...Even when I was a so-called revolutionary, I submitted to your versions...Today it is different. You might as well get used to the difference...
A more powerful army has come forth, an equally nasty army and even nastier has come forth...And you are gone. And we are left behind and for those of you who have survived it, I am tired of holding your own banners...
I look around me and there is no one...No banner, no flag, no voice...no presence.
I was told to shut up and listen. I was told you are the center. But now, there is no one. And the center is gone. There is only a circumference...
I am suddenly told, do it alone. I am suddenly left alone. Suddenly the family is gone. Suddenly the "pillar of strength" has crumbled in front of my eyes...
Now what? Who is your spokesperson? Who will you quote?
I am suddenly asked to do it alone when for decades you told me I could not, should not...
What do you have to say now ? What do you have to say aside from your usual judgmental, crossed legged positions...what do you have to say now that I am forced to sell "it". Sell your slogans, sell your pride, sell your honor?
What do you have to say now that I have to do the unthinkable, the unspoken?
Where are your judges, your theologians, your tribal chiefs...?
Why have you gone so silent? Why have you become so sheepish?
Where are you today o' mighty ones? Where is your honor, your virtue, your own mothers?
Where are you ?
Why has your voice gone mute...when I was shouting from behind bars...
Why has yours gone silent, when I was there pleading ?
And the little you have left, the little you can voice, you still manage to crush me with it...instead of directing it where it ought to go...
You can only flex your muscles here...
I pity you, yet at the same time, I see you have brought it onto yourselves...somehow, somewhere...
Had you listened to me, maybe just maybe...you would have not felt my hot fiery Wrath.
Let that become a lesson for all else to learn from".
Painting : Iraqi female artist, Betool Fekaiki.
