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SO HERE WE ARE IN 2003 [Must Read]  MSANews Service
 Jan 13, 2003 11:53 PST 
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Source: FuckTheWar.com
URL: http://www.fuckthewar.com/
Type: Web Pointer; Sample
Date: 13 Jan 2003 AD
Title: SO HERE WE ARE IN 2003 [Must Read]

NOTE:

No single Saracen could have put the following words with
so much eloquence even if he or she tried time and again.
As for the "f" word Mullah Nasrudeen--the ever scoffing
sakhafing--wise ass of the East says: "The best cure
for a rotten mouth is good brushing." This is a Saracen
adage of yore which-transcribed in the language of the
pure:

   "ma dawa al-famm al-abkhar illa as-sewak al-haar".

Lisan al-Arab (http://lexicons.ajeeb.com) indicates that
"abkhar" is Arabic for smelly mouth, resulting from rotten
teeth and bad bacteria. Some Arabs insist the proverb is
colloquial, but the Mullah says all words check in the
ancient magnanimous encyclopedia of Ibn Manzur al-Ifriqi
al-Misri who used to brush his teeth very well.

"Al-famm al-abkhar" are these medieval hawks/fawks putting
the world on fire and claiming to be civilized, the
fundamentalist hordes around Bush bin Bush, everyone knows
their names and you don't have to go to Cheers. "As-Sewak
al-Haar" are these wonderful people--my friend Joe still
high on hasheesh from his last trip is one example; many
good people around us we know them by name and we don't
know them who refuse to be suckered into the
fundamentalist ideological war of the Bushies (this is the
view of Scott Ritter, not ours) against the Arabs and and
the people of Islam (that is the war for the "Jesus" of
John Ashcroft, the most medieval government official
anywhere on the face of Mother Earth).

Absolutely the best of the best of humans are some
Americans. They refuse to be suckered into these enmities
because they are as much fodder for the medieval wars of
Bush and Cronies as the Muslims suffering from his
fundamentalist crusade and his inquisition. Along with
our brethren below we say: F*** the War a million times.
F*** Ashcroft. F*** Rummy. F*** Perle. F*** Wolfowitz.
F*** Pipes. F*** all the M* F* out there who kill us for
being swarthy and refined. Bolton wants to play drama,
f*** him and f*** his M* F* mama. (Where is Powell in all
of this and how would Tupac comment on all of this?)

This venting out on behalf of all the kind peoples of the
world, we now pepper this with some facts:

The funny part is that the Arabs would not pronounce "F***
the War" in their language without giving al-whore (or
al-war) a mother (now we see a smile on your face and
that's all that matters for us).

Now here is a social phenomenon to observe. Saddam won the
part I of the Gulf War against the medieval Barbarians.

Back in 1991--when the Americans won the first battle of
this long and protracted war on Iraq, Tom Brokaw commented
on Saddam loss in his "Mother of all Battles" by way of
demeaning them sand-niggers and Arabs: "now we know this
is the mother of you know what." His comment was about
Saddam he thought, but his comment was about the manners
of Arab speech, sinc the "mother of all..." is a kernel
expression in the language of the pure (and may Tom's
mother be bereaved with his death if he does not condemn
the medieval fundamentalist war).

Saddam indeed won. Bush Sr. is out. Saddam built "the
Mother of all Battles" Mosque. And Bush Jr. (the "W"
stands for "wimp"--but my friend 'Big Ben' insists the "W"
is really "widiot") will soon be out, sooner than Saddam
according to classical Arabic adage on Mirba` and
Farazdaq.

In any case, at least lexically, Saddam won! The
expression "the mother of all..." is part of everyday
lingo in the land of the Ajam beyond the sea of
darknesses. For instance, we still have to see some heads
roll for the mother of all goofs by American security
agencies--like in all honorable societies--for their
failure to protect Americans on 9/11. Not a single
American official, low or high rank, saw his or her career
ended, got fired or quit honorably, for his or the mother
of all goofs on that fateful day of grand massacre. (eds.)

TEXT:

[FUCKTHEWAR.COM ANALYSIS]

SO HERE WE ARE IN 2003.
http://www.fuckthewar.com/html/fuckthewar_.html

As this is being written, bleary-eyed revelers are still
making their way out of Times Square. High on the rooftops
above, the police snipers - likely bored, cold, and tired
- are getting ready to pack it in for another day. The
people manning the metal-detector checkpoints are counting
down the minutes of overtime left, counting down the
minutes until they too can pull the plug and head home to
their families. And the drunken partygoers are doing all
the things drunken partygoers do on New Year's morning on
Times Square: Drink some more, make out with one another,
fight, shout, sing songs, vomit on the sidewalk. Another
new day in the US of A, another new year to be lived in
the shadow of a dimly-understood terror.

Terror's new to America; we haven't quite figured out how
to hang with it yet. While elsewhere on the globe, people
more familiar with the ever-present threat of bus bombs,
hails of bullets, police cordons, and bomb-sniffing dogs
enter their new year utilizing coping skills learned
through years of living beneath the shadow - people in
Chechnya, Israel, Northern Ireland, East Timor, the
Occupied Territories - we sleepwalk into it. We do our
best to pretend that it's perfectly normal to party down
while cop choppers equipped with radioactivity-detection
equipment circle overhead, party beneath the watchful eye
of snipers. We drink and nod and wave and weave and sing.
Mostly, we just deny.

It's all ok, isn't it? Well, isn't it? You can still get
Bud Light down at the 7-11. Dick Clark's still "rocking,"
in the loosest possible terms, on the TV set. There are
still jobs to go to and DVDs to watch and cars to buy and
frozen pizzas to eat. There are still houses to live in,
hospitals to go to if you're sick, schools and colleges to
attend, taxes to pay. The streets aren't littered with
bodies yet, and we aren't under martial law or police
curfew. Our lives haven't changed that much. Sure, there
was 9-11, but that was over a year ago and our officially
recognized season of collective mourning has come and
gone. Our architects and city planners are already
planning bigger, better, more expensive, more
structurally-sound towers to fill that empty space
downtown, so it's all alright. Isn't it?

And our leaders are watching out for us, after all. Aren't
they? Following careful analysis, due consideration, and
earnest prayers to Almighty God, they've struck back at
the very heart of terror, sending Al Queda skittering
hither and yon, bombing towns and caves and arid deserts,
shipping captives off to secure processing centers in
airtight containers in the name of our safety and
security. And it's worked. Hasn't it?

And now we have seen the enemy again, and his name is
Hussein. Our president has declared him an enemy of the
American people, and has worked diligently to persuade a
world community that just won't understand that peace,
freedom, and justice depend upon our unfettered ability to
blow his already-decimated country into tinier pieces. But
never fear: Our president has told us that we have the
ability to go it alone, and go it alone we shall, if need
be. We can beat him. Our manifest destiny decrees that we
have the right and the responsibility to cleanse the earth
of all people, weaponry, ideologies, and leaders which we
think might threaten our sanctified and God-blessed way of
life. Doesn't it?

So any day now, we'll be able to tune in to Nightline to
the familiar and comforting sight of bombs over Baghdad. A
leather-jacket-clad SCUD stud cloned from the Arthur Kent
stable of
selected-for-authoritative-and-reassuring-presence faux
journalists will solemnly and calmly tell us how our
Patriot missiles are hitting the mark every time, that
collateral damage has been kept to a minimum, that the
terrorist curs are on the run, and that that wasn't really
a baby formula factory we just blew out of existence.

And we'll put flags on our car antennas and tie yellow
ribbons 'round our old oak trees. We'll send valentines
and chocolate easter bunnies to our men and women in
uniform. We'll proudly take stock of how we've "come
together as a nation" and how "there is a new spirit of
pride in America," and we'll pat ourselves on the back
for a job well done. When the program's over, we'll sidle
over to the Frigidaire for leftovers and the last beer of
the evening. And then we'll fall asleep snug in our beds,
content in the knowledge that Dubya is watching over us,
and yes, he and Jesus love us, every one.

Meanwhile, in bombed-out office buildings and the rubble
of ruined apartments, in cellars and cafes and mosques and
vegetable markets, in Islamabad and Cairo and Karachi, a
new nation will be born - first only in the form of
unquenchable anger, an anger born of exploitation,
deprivation, and desperation. It will grow in the form of
a hatred as virulent and communicable as any biological
agent born in the bowels of the Pentagon. It will spread
from mother to daughter, brother to brother, father to
son, to be carried from one generation to the next. It
will be a nation without a leader, borders, or an anthem,
but a nation nonetheless. A superpower forged in the hot
coals of rage.The world over, tens of millions will look
at America, and pray for revenge.

And when the next airliner plows into a packed stadium in
Seattle or a nuclear plant in New Jersey, America will
cry, wail, fume, and collectively wonder why They Hate Us
So Much.

Welcome to 2003. Welcome to ground zero.


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         <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
         <> ... On that account: We ordained for
         <> the Children of Israel that if anyone
         <> slew a person - unless it be for      
         <> murder or for spreading mischief      
         <> in the land - it would be as if       
         <> he slew the whole people: and if      
         <> any one saved a life, it would        
         <> be as if he saved the life of         
         <> the whole people."
         <> Holy Qur'an, Surah al-Maidah 5:32.    
         <> URL: http://quran.al-islam.com/       
         <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

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"And the mind - may God preserve you - is more
prone to deep sleep than the eye. Neediest of
sharpening than a sword. Poorest to treatment.
Fastest to change. Its illness, the deadliest.
Its doctors, the rarest. And its cure, the
hardest. Whoever got a hold of it, before the
spread of the disease, found his sake. Whoever
tried to wrestle it after the spread would not
find his sake. The greatest purpose of knowledge
is the abundance of inspiring thoughts. Then,
the ways to go about one's needs are met."
    -- Al-Jahiz ("Puffy"), 9th Century Baghdad,
    Kitab at-Tarbi` wat-Tadweer ("Squaring
    the Circle"), p. 101, Edited by Prof. Charles
    Pellat, Institut Francais de Damas, 1955.

READ THE TEXT, IN THE LANGUAGE OF THE PEOPLE
OF THE DESERT, WHEN WE GO BACK TO OUR 'MECCA'
URL: http://msanews.mynet.net/books/ajaib/

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