I am…

I am…. what? What am I? Who am I really? Is there really a purpose for me and everything around me?

Promoted to the frontpage

If I were displayed by one foot to the right of where I'm sitting now, the winds violently tearing past at several hundred miles an hour, would surely kill me. I'd be engulfed by droplets of water freezing that form a vaporous clouds, the temperature would be near freezing, and I'd have trouble breathing in the substance surrounding me - oxygen.

But, I'm not displaced, I'm sitting comfortably in row "12", seat "A", in an Embraer Jet, en route to Dallas from Chattanooga, as I do every Thursday, since the beginning of the year. I'm looking down at a rolling tapestry of greens and browns, with zigzagging lines of interruptions. A couple of thousand feet below the jet is a layer of white clouds extending to the horizon from East to West. We appear to be slowly inching by this landscape and sky, when in reality, we're moving closer to 4 or 5 hundred miles in hour, but the appearance of speed is void, until a plane comes at us from the opposite direction - then the shocking reality of our speed becomes apparent, as the oncoming plane appears and disappears past us in a few seconds.

Flying - it's not hard to understand Icarus' wish. Bound for the Sun, a return to our ethereal self. From little boys zooming model airplanes around the backyard, to the glances through the windows as the plane leaves the ground - the dream and fascination of flying never dies.

There is a name calling part starting at the personal blog because of this:

The niqabi’s psychology consists of nine parts desire and one part fear of phallus. This is inferred from the fact that even though the Quran contains no mention of erecting a black tent over one’s body, countless of our sisters presume to go further than mere covering up one’s “adornments”, and move to turning themselves into a walking ink blot. Psychiatrists could save a lot of money and humanity a lot of trees if we simply had one niqabi sitting silently in each doctor’s office. From one angle she is a victim; from another she is opening to a wormhole leading to paradise. Nevertheless, the point that her psyche is composed of sexuality [seething, pulsating] is inferred from the fact that her entire public existence is organized around denying the sexuality of others.

Stop by when you have some time.

You know what? I'm gonna be pissed if France elects this guy because he talked hypocritically about social issues and talked [unfortunately truthfully] about what to do with minorities their old people don't like in the first place...and he turns out to completely abandon his campaign points and go about trying to distribute lots of wealth to the richest people in France, at the violent expense of people in the rest of the world if that's what it takes.

After all, lots of French people I met when I lived there would not stop heckling me in 2004 about the United States having elected Bush, Jr. :evil:

Seriously, this Sarkozy guy even campaigned on "helping the handicapped" after he & his party dismantled programs for handicapped kids. Man, does that sound familiar. Let's see..."education" platitudes after having passed "No Child Left Behind" and having dismantled a lot of Head Start, anyone?

Do you want a president with a higher proportion of policy decisions that are effective at making the lives of 95% of you better? Vote Royal, France. Take it from me.

Do you want a president with a lower proportion of policy decisions that are effective at making the lives of 95% of you better? Vote Sarkozy, France. Take it from me.

If you French get a "trickle-down" leader who's okay helping the First World kill off and/or torture its lower classes and the rest of the world...well, you'll understand our mystery, too.

The Bush Administration refuses to acknowledge any responsibility, instead offering the tepid explanation that Syrian officials assured the U.S. that Arar would not be tortured. These are the same Syrian officials with whom our government now says it will not negotiate because they are not trustworthy. Maher Arar's case stands as a sad example of how we have been too willing to sacrifice our core principles to overarching government power in the name of security, when doing so only undermines the principles we stand for and makes us less safe.

Moderate Islam has had to decide whether Osama is a good Muslim or a bad Muslim. That many have opted for the former view owes much to the sacrifices that seem to have been made by this rich but stoic troglodyte.

So I've come here via a poke. I've followed the directions and opened up a diary. And after reading all the rules, I'm a bit nervous that I'm going to mess this one up.

Rules. There are many of them. They come in different forms, shapes, sizes. Sometimes if we are lucky, they come with a "Please sir..." and other times we experience those awful "Do's and Do not's." But the most interesting thing about rules are the reactions they bring forth. Nervousness, like mine. Sometimes anger, rebellion, even strong passion in abiding by those seemingly never-ending "divine" rules.

So reports the Grauniad:

The American government wants to impose travel restrictions on British citizens of Pakistani origin because of concerns about terrorism, according to a report today.

In talks with the British government, the US homeland security secretary, Michael Chertoff, called for British Pakistanis to apply for a visa before travelling to the US, according to the New York Times.

The newspaper claimed that US officials were concerned about the number of terrorist plots in Britain involving citizens with ties to Pakistan.

It is understood that the British government is resisting any attempts to single out particular ethnic groups for travel restrictions. The Foreign Office has yet to comment on the report.

Promoted to the frontpage

It was a cool late afternoon last Ramadan and in a moment of inspiration I grabbed my Koran and drove to the beach. Not a soul in sight. I took off my shoes and got as close to the water as I could, sat down, and began to read.