I've been following the news on the arrest of Abdel Karim, a blogger who seemed to have expressed his thoughts all too well, on a show called Al3ashera Masaa2an (10 in the evening). Of course the whole thing is just appalling, but if you're on this blog and reading then you must agree that being jailed for writing some inanities or opinions does seem extreme and far too unworthy of being imprisoned for a duration of four years. It must also feel that there are hands that want to go past your skull and through your brain to control all your thoughts by approving and codemning every thought. But that's not what I want to talk about.
What I want to talk about is a man on the show called Mostafa Bakry. This man was very annoying, not because of what he was saying, but because of he manner that he was saying it. I hate it when people on a show don't give the chance for any other guest to say anything by continuously interrupting them and by talking louder to overshadow what the other guest has to say.
Perhaps amidst all this charade, what really got to me most was his use of the 'Conspiracy Theory' argument by that man. He argued that AbdelKarim's thoughts could not have been his own and that they were fed to him and so on as part of a whole conspiracy to destroy the great nation Egypt.
Now my question is, what's there to destroy? Really, what kind of target can Egypt be? It doesn't pose any military threat, it doesn't pose any technological threat, it doesn't pose any economic threat and in short, there is nothing left to destroy because most of what could have been targetted to be destroyed already has.
The Americans don't hate us yet, we have a strong alleigance with them, and we have a peace treaty with Israel, God knows they don't want another enemy on their hands. So who and what is trying to destroy us? Why is it that we have this conspiracy theory all the time while the enemy is actually within. It is certainly much easier to point the finger than to take the blame, and I think that in places without freedom, there can be no real responsibility or accountability. The only emotion left is denial. We're left with lies that are forced down our throats. The false feeling of pride, acheivment, and importance, for how would Egyptians feel, if they woke up to realize that all the suffering they have gone through is self inflicted. How would people feel when they find themselves as Don Quixote fighting windmills, it's so much easier to have an enemy rather than a traitor. The thought control, the limitations of our creativity, that's the real conspiracy and it's happening from within our own country.
Don't get me wrong, this country does have its perks, but that's not what I'm talking about. It's just that Egypt is so distanced from any active map. It's a political catalyst at best and economically struggling. The corruption has eaten away at it from the insides and if it someone's enemy, it's an enemy that self destructs.
The conspiracy theory really kills me. What fake pride do people possess to think that we are emerging from the abyss to cause threat to others. It can't be that every person's thought is a conspiracy, every action taken by someone is a conspiracy. There's always a reference to those invisible hands, and while they might be present in some situations, they're always blamed for everything else.
Why do we have to look for faults elsewhere and act as though with a wounded pride when our faults are exposed? Any unorthodox politic is a conspiracy it seems and anything that skews slightly from the main doctrine approved by the government is heretic. It seem we're not allowed to think and we're not expected to think, so much so, that when someone seems to develop a thinking pattern it automatically falls under the category 'conspiracy theory'.
Speaking of thought, I was annoyed today as well by something on Elbait Baitak. When someone on the phone said that we should not put our children's thought in moulds and enhance their creativity and analysis, the response was that grade 5 wasn't the time to do that, they're much too young. Well, I think that even education is too determined to mould our children into lifeless thoughless beings so that if any creativity in thought happens incidentally, it would be easy to identify it as coming from an external source.
The real conspiracy is killing all kinds of thought in this country. Mostafa Bakry demanded the life of AbdelKarim. Now tell me, does it not seem like a conspiracy to frighten anyone who attempts to sway from what is approved?
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Diary Entry #976
To a friend.
This is a diary entry as I would imagine someone to have written:
I arrived home to a lonely, empty flat. Not just void of other people, but also void of any furniture that gives warmth to a place. It was a cold spacious and empty apartment that reflected how I felt inside. The coldness of the walls and the uncarpeted floor made their way directly to my bones. To make matters worse, I found myself facing a mirror and staring at an almost entirely separate person from the one looking through. So I asked this person, “ Are you all that I am?” and I couldn’t stand that the answer was “yes.”
I felt like I couldn’t bear my own skin, there was a beast inside itching to claw its way out of my skin. “How can anybody stand me if I can’t stand myself?” I thought. I was trapped inside myself and I wasn’t happy.
Coming home I’m faced with the usual simple chores like taking out the trash, changing my clothes, preparing something to eat and brushing my teeth. On any other night, these simple things would not have been burdensome or even significant in the least, but tonight I was with the worst kind of company; myself.
Being unable to bear myself, each simple chore, every simple move felt lonelier than ever and burdensome as ever every second they were prolonged. I felt as if I was imploding and the beast inside me was tearing my insides.
How can I bear myself and how can others bear me; I am nothing, a big nothing and I’m trapped. There’s a cage I’m in called me and there’s nothing I can do to change me and nothing I can think of to change me.
I’m filled with irritation with myself, anger, disgust and low self esteem. Those mixed feelings that even words can’t describe run through my whole body from top to toe as if they were running through my veins along with my very own blood. I can’t bear this, I feel like I will implode or explode from the pressure of these poisons flowing through my system.
The feeling never stops, and it grows and it takes a hold of me and I’m dying to get out. The cage is closing in on me and fills me with so much negative energy that begs of me to stop existing altogether. Only trouble is that the cage itself is me. I scream out loud with all my lungs can afford but to no avail. I pull out my hair and give myself a few slaps, something shakes, but the rage inside doesn’t go.
The pressure inside my head keeps building and my veins seem like they are about to explode, the irritation is unbearable and I must do something to take it all out and end it all. I grab a knife and slash my arm with it, dark blood flows and I feel some of that rage shaken, I slash it again and I experience more pain and more red blood gushing out relieving some pressure… Through these cuts some of that horrible negative feeling has been vented out and I’m too exhausted to feel the rage with the same vehemence.
I don’t feel less alone or more loved. I feel the same abandonment and I feel the same low self worth. The only thing is that I’m now too tired and I can bear myself another night. Who knows what tomorrow may bring, but I don’t suspect it will bring me anything better; I’m condemned to being me and to a life of misfortune.
This is a diary entry as I would imagine someone to have written:
I arrived home to a lonely, empty flat. Not just void of other people, but also void of any furniture that gives warmth to a place. It was a cold spacious and empty apartment that reflected how I felt inside. The coldness of the walls and the uncarpeted floor made their way directly to my bones. To make matters worse, I found myself facing a mirror and staring at an almost entirely separate person from the one looking through. So I asked this person, “ Are you all that I am?” and I couldn’t stand that the answer was “yes.”
I felt like I couldn’t bear my own skin, there was a beast inside itching to claw its way out of my skin. “How can anybody stand me if I can’t stand myself?” I thought. I was trapped inside myself and I wasn’t happy.
Coming home I’m faced with the usual simple chores like taking out the trash, changing my clothes, preparing something to eat and brushing my teeth. On any other night, these simple things would not have been burdensome or even significant in the least, but tonight I was with the worst kind of company; myself.
Being unable to bear myself, each simple chore, every simple move felt lonelier than ever and burdensome as ever every second they were prolonged. I felt as if I was imploding and the beast inside me was tearing my insides.
How can I bear myself and how can others bear me; I am nothing, a big nothing and I’m trapped. There’s a cage I’m in called me and there’s nothing I can do to change me and nothing I can think of to change me.
I’m filled with irritation with myself, anger, disgust and low self esteem. Those mixed feelings that even words can’t describe run through my whole body from top to toe as if they were running through my veins along with my very own blood. I can’t bear this, I feel like I will implode or explode from the pressure of these poisons flowing through my system.
The feeling never stops, and it grows and it takes a hold of me and I’m dying to get out. The cage is closing in on me and fills me with so much negative energy that begs of me to stop existing altogether. Only trouble is that the cage itself is me. I scream out loud with all my lungs can afford but to no avail. I pull out my hair and give myself a few slaps, something shakes, but the rage inside doesn’t go.
The pressure inside my head keeps building and my veins seem like they are about to explode, the irritation is unbearable and I must do something to take it all out and end it all. I grab a knife and slash my arm with it, dark blood flows and I feel some of that rage shaken, I slash it again and I experience more pain and more red blood gushing out relieving some pressure… Through these cuts some of that horrible negative feeling has been vented out and I’m too exhausted to feel the rage with the same vehemence.
I don’t feel less alone or more loved. I feel the same abandonment and I feel the same low self worth. The only thing is that I’m now too tired and I can bear myself another night. Who knows what tomorrow may bring, but I don’t suspect it will bring me anything better; I’m condemned to being me and to a life of misfortune.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
On Pregnancy and Hymens
Very late at night, I overheard a show talking about marriages and pregnancies and sex education. The doctor on the show had a few things to say which were interesting.
To paraphrase:
We all know that the hymen has different textures, and there has been rumours that some hymens need surgical intervention if it doesn't .. give way.. but anyway, that doctor said that there's no such thing as surgical intervention in hymens, they all can be disposed of in the natural way no matter what type they claim to be.
And :
The only female species that can have sexual relations while pregnant is the human female, no other female has that capability. However, that being said, during the first three months of pregnancy the pregnant woman can't bear the thought of sex, can't bear the man's scent, his aftershave, and just the reminder of his existence can make her vomit.
Supposedly this man is a doctor and knows what he's talking about, so I suppose that maybe what he's trying to say is that any hymen that doesn't give way is fake..and by the sounds of it the concept of women enduring some sort of labour during childbirth is balanced out with what a man has to endure.
(Plus of course the extra trouble he takes to buy her tickets to the Bahamas and diamond earrings)
To paraphrase:
We all know that the hymen has different textures, and there has been rumours that some hymens need surgical intervention if it doesn't .. give way.. but anyway, that doctor said that there's no such thing as surgical intervention in hymens, they all can be disposed of in the natural way no matter what type they claim to be.
And :
The only female species that can have sexual relations while pregnant is the human female, no other female has that capability. However, that being said, during the first three months of pregnancy the pregnant woman can't bear the thought of sex, can't bear the man's scent, his aftershave, and just the reminder of his existence can make her vomit.
Supposedly this man is a doctor and knows what he's talking about, so I suppose that maybe what he's trying to say is that any hymen that doesn't give way is fake..and by the sounds of it the concept of women enduring some sort of labour during childbirth is balanced out with what a man has to endure.
(Plus of course the extra trouble he takes to buy her tickets to the Bahamas and diamond earrings)
Friday, February 16, 2007
Invitation To Ride
So I cycle to work every day. It’s not a long distance really, something like 10-15 minutes by bike or the equivalent of 20-30 minutes by car. Cairo is not at all designed for bicycles but then again neither is it designed for cars or pedestrians or even humans. I used to cycle from place to place when I had my freestyle bike as a child, but all that changed since it broke down and I sort of outgrew the freestyle stuff. Anyway it did take a bit of courage to decide to cycle in Cairo to and from work, especially that I was showered with warnings from everyone who came to know of my plan.
The warnings were concerning many aspects, firstly the pollution in Cairo, instead of actually doing a sport that would benefit my body, I would be augmenting the inhale of pollution to bring about more quickly the ruin of an already deteriorating pair of lungs. Another problem was traffic; driving in Cairo is chaotic enough as it is without the disadvantage of having to deal with it from a vulnerable exposed bike. Being a driver myself I can see how anymore space used up by a bike can cause drivers to go crazy with rage. The pedestrians have left the non existent sidewalk and moved on to the road, but what makes bikers more infuriating is that they move quicker than both cars and pedestrians. They use up little enough road so as to glide through traffic and yet enough to hinder some cars.
One more issue that was raised but that is totally absurd is harassment. Yes even guys can get harassed if walking in shorts, or strange clothes or on a bike. Of course I don’t have a poor looking bike like those carrying bread or running errands, so one can expect the same kind of remarks as those I get while going to play football wearing shorts during the winter. Even more, some have warned that I may get some kind of mockery from the not so accustomed workmates.
But of course that last issue is the least of my worries, relative to the normal population, I’m considered eccentric anyway, and I’ve never cared much for what people say, I’ve been down that road so many times and I discovered that if you’re confident enough people get tired of the strange things you do and eventually start accepting you and sometimes even respecting you.
Despite all these warnings, I still decided to cycle to work, and it does have its perks apart from dodging pedestrians walking like zombies unaware of their own existence and yours, the bigger task was to avoid cars that continuously ignore you, almost run you over and then simply smile and apologize. The perks of cycling though other than it being a sport I enjoy a lot is that I get home faster in the deadlocked traffic of Cairo. I can run errands on my way home and I can decide to leave during rush hour rather than rot away in the office. I can enjoy the cold air in the evening and rid myself of that usual feeling of lethargy at the end of a working day. I can actually go back home and decide to go out, not dreading driving to places since I haven’t been locked in a traffic jam for over fifteen minutes. I can even park right next to the office and not go around 10 extra minutes looking for a parking space, with the car, the process of parking is horrendous.
With all these perks comes one that was very unexpected. Owning a bike is like being lost. Not in a bad sense I assure you, it’s just that when people are lost, people are very anxious to help them and get them on the right way and talk to them. That’s what it’s like when some people see me with a bike. I’m talking about the doorman and the security guards and the garage keeper. They’re very excited that I have joined their ranks and run my errands on a bike. One of the security guards was so interested that he asked me if my bike was normal or with “3’eyarat” (gears). The ability to make small talk about the bike is excellent.
I’m not sure why people don’t go to their work on bikes here in Egypt, I mean it may be a bit demeaning, but if more people did it then the traffic won’t be as bad (except on the 6th of October bridge) and the whole biking thing will be generally more accepted. If anything it can attempt to bring closer those rich enough to own cars but choose bikes, and those rich enough to merely own a bike.
The warnings were concerning many aspects, firstly the pollution in Cairo, instead of actually doing a sport that would benefit my body, I would be augmenting the inhale of pollution to bring about more quickly the ruin of an already deteriorating pair of lungs. Another problem was traffic; driving in Cairo is chaotic enough as it is without the disadvantage of having to deal with it from a vulnerable exposed bike. Being a driver myself I can see how anymore space used up by a bike can cause drivers to go crazy with rage. The pedestrians have left the non existent sidewalk and moved on to the road, but what makes bikers more infuriating is that they move quicker than both cars and pedestrians. They use up little enough road so as to glide through traffic and yet enough to hinder some cars.
One more issue that was raised but that is totally absurd is harassment. Yes even guys can get harassed if walking in shorts, or strange clothes or on a bike. Of course I don’t have a poor looking bike like those carrying bread or running errands, so one can expect the same kind of remarks as those I get while going to play football wearing shorts during the winter. Even more, some have warned that I may get some kind of mockery from the not so accustomed workmates.
But of course that last issue is the least of my worries, relative to the normal population, I’m considered eccentric anyway, and I’ve never cared much for what people say, I’ve been down that road so many times and I discovered that if you’re confident enough people get tired of the strange things you do and eventually start accepting you and sometimes even respecting you.
Despite all these warnings, I still decided to cycle to work, and it does have its perks apart from dodging pedestrians walking like zombies unaware of their own existence and yours, the bigger task was to avoid cars that continuously ignore you, almost run you over and then simply smile and apologize. The perks of cycling though other than it being a sport I enjoy a lot is that I get home faster in the deadlocked traffic of Cairo. I can run errands on my way home and I can decide to leave during rush hour rather than rot away in the office. I can enjoy the cold air in the evening and rid myself of that usual feeling of lethargy at the end of a working day. I can actually go back home and decide to go out, not dreading driving to places since I haven’t been locked in a traffic jam for over fifteen minutes. I can even park right next to the office and not go around 10 extra minutes looking for a parking space, with the car, the process of parking is horrendous.
With all these perks comes one that was very unexpected. Owning a bike is like being lost. Not in a bad sense I assure you, it’s just that when people are lost, people are very anxious to help them and get them on the right way and talk to them. That’s what it’s like when some people see me with a bike. I’m talking about the doorman and the security guards and the garage keeper. They’re very excited that I have joined their ranks and run my errands on a bike. One of the security guards was so interested that he asked me if my bike was normal or with “3’eyarat” (gears). The ability to make small talk about the bike is excellent.
I’m not sure why people don’t go to their work on bikes here in Egypt, I mean it may be a bit demeaning, but if more people did it then the traffic won’t be as bad (except on the 6th of October bridge) and the whole biking thing will be generally more accepted. If anything it can attempt to bring closer those rich enough to own cars but choose bikes, and those rich enough to merely own a bike.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Tag Heur
So I've been tagged by alluring who was tagged by raghd-triple-o-da who was tagged by Mak who apparently wasn't tagged by anyone, and might have just made this whole tag thing up out of boredom or to get to know things about raghdoooda or to see how far a tag can travel.
Anyway, he got more than he bargained for and now I'm about to relay some truths about myself, which people (except maybe alluring,bless her, who tagged me) are not interested in reading about. In any case that shouldn't be such a difficult task because this blog doesn't give away any personal information, so to compensate what the blog has failed to do, I'll be tagged.
Things you didn't know about me, and now that you do, don't care that you do:
Insomniac who I was about to mention tagged herself out of her own accord.
N who I wanted to tag seems to have been tagged already.
And just for the record, one more thing you didn't know about me, is that whenever I visit blogs whose posts include a tag post such as this one, it really annoys me.. Something about answering a specific question and bulleted points.. I don't know..
Anyway, he got more than he bargained for and now I'm about to relay some truths about myself, which people (except maybe alluring,bless her, who tagged me) are not interested in reading about. In any case that shouldn't be such a difficult task because this blog doesn't give away any personal information, so to compensate what the blog has failed to do, I'll be tagged.
Things you didn't know about me, and now that you do, don't care that you do:
- I finished high school before I turned 14.
- Since that sounds geeky enough, it was natural for me to be a woman repeller up to the age of 20.
- I taught myself how to do a shoulder spring.
- I cycle to work every day.
- I'm obsessed with Dostoevsky.
- Leonardo Di Caprio sucked in Titanic and I despised him but I've changed my opinion about him as an actor and I've started give him some respect since Catch Me If You Can.
- Pretty much every other thing I can include in this list will be something you didn't know about me and won't care to.
Insomniac who I was about to mention tagged herself out of her own accord.
N who I wanted to tag seems to have been tagged already.
And just for the record, one more thing you didn't know about me, is that whenever I visit blogs whose posts include a tag post such as this one, it really annoys me.. Something about answering a specific question and bulleted points.. I don't know..
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
42 ½
My shoe size is 42 and a half. That’s exactly what it feels like in most shoes I try on. 42 is slightly tight, 43 is slightly loose. At first I thought I was imagining it, that I was either thinking that my shoes were too tight when they were a good fit, or thinking they were too loose when they were just comfortable. But try as I might, there was just no way around it, my shoe size was 42 and a half.
I once tried buying a size 42, hoping that by time the material would expand and I would be able to rid myself of the absurd notion that my feet did not conform to normal standards. But when I wore those shoes for a while, they caused me so much pain that I could never walk in them again. I vowed never to walk in those sorts of shoes ever again.
On another occasion I bought a size 43 shoe to play football with, but that also turned into a complete mess. There was no accuracy in my shots and I had trouble sprinting and all in all I felt my feet surrounded by too much empty space.
So after all these experiments, I’m neither a 42 nor a 43, I’m somewhere in between. I must have missed out on some really good shoes because of that. I’ve often wondered why I couldn’t have just been one size or the other, fitting well with the designs that should be available to everyone. Why must it be so difficult and why must I stand out? I’ve never had a real answer to this, and I’ve come to accept that this is just the way it is.
I’ve come to appreciate the shoes that do fit though I hang on to them very dearly. Even though they’re a mishap, they fit a mishap like myself pretty well. I don’t need to fit in all possible shoes; I just need to seek out those that fit. Those that do fit tend to endure. Perhaps they might make some other normal people slightly uncomfortable, but they suit me best.
I’m always lost about where to shop for them though…
I once tried buying a size 42, hoping that by time the material would expand and I would be able to rid myself of the absurd notion that my feet did not conform to normal standards. But when I wore those shoes for a while, they caused me so much pain that I could never walk in them again. I vowed never to walk in those sorts of shoes ever again.
On another occasion I bought a size 43 shoe to play football with, but that also turned into a complete mess. There was no accuracy in my shots and I had trouble sprinting and all in all I felt my feet surrounded by too much empty space.
So after all these experiments, I’m neither a 42 nor a 43, I’m somewhere in between. I must have missed out on some really good shoes because of that. I’ve often wondered why I couldn’t have just been one size or the other, fitting well with the designs that should be available to everyone. Why must it be so difficult and why must I stand out? I’ve never had a real answer to this, and I’ve come to accept that this is just the way it is.
I’ve come to appreciate the shoes that do fit though I hang on to them very dearly. Even though they’re a mishap, they fit a mishap like myself pretty well. I don’t need to fit in all possible shoes; I just need to seek out those that fit. Those that do fit tend to endure. Perhaps they might make some other normal people slightly uncomfortable, but they suit me best.
I’m always lost about where to shop for them though…
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Inflexible People Annoy Me
Inflexible people annoy me. It’s not that they’re inflexible that annoys me really, it’s just that the only way to deal with inflexible people is to be inflexible yourself. That’s what really annoys me… that they force me to be something I dislike. Inflexible people want it their way or no way at all. I think that sometimes there can be changes to how things are done, but my stubborn nature in the face of inflexibility forces me to be inflexible even though I don’t believe in what I’m being rigid about. The problem is that inflexibility works and it’s the passive people who help make it work. It’s by others making compromises that inflexible people get their way. Perhaps it makes me inflexible when I stand up to people who are inflexible. Where’s the line between being adaptive and not being a pushover? I’m sure it exists in the minds of people, but one adaptive person is another’s pushover.
Passive people annoy me as well, but then again I’ve become irritable lately. I think my rigidity is causing me to be chronically inflexible, this is the disease that is passed on really. However there’s just no way to stop it. If you let inflexible people do what they want then their rigidity triumphed. If you stand up to them and hold on to your guns too obstinately then the disease has been passed on to you.
Back to passive people. They annoy me lots because they let people get away with whatever they can. They’re very short sighted and think that by letting things slide they’re doing the world some good. They feel that by being quiet they should be commended since they’ve saved a ten second scene or something of that nature. Passive people may have good intention, or may have cowardice, but one thing is for sure, they don’t have hindsight. How can they? And I’m not talking about difficult to reach hindsight, they just don’t understand the future or consequences of what they’re doing today, or maybe they just don’t care.
I’m annoyed by passive people because they give up their rights very often, but even though it’s their rights, it’s not their right to forfeit them. I’m not annoyed by them giving up a right, but I’m annoyed by the consequences of this sort of behavior. They make it a norm for people to give up their rights. They make those who abuse rights think that it’s okay to do so. They make people behave in such a way such that they’re sure that others will let it slide so as not to cause immediate trouble. I’m certainly most annoyed by the fact that my rights go down the drain a lot easier.
There’s a certain kind of wisdom called patience that can look like passiveness, but there’s one difference; patience is waiting for a moment to take a proper action while passiveness is letting the moments pass you by. Silence is better if it doesn’t help to speak, but sometimes it’s just plain laziness. It’s easy to give up your right, but if you look at it from a different perspective, it’s not only your right but also the right of those who will follow. How then can you just give it up? It would sense to give it up because you don’t care about all those who follow, that I can accept, but that contradicts giving it up in the first place because you would have to care about the people who violated them so as to give them up.
But like I said, I’m generally irritable these days. The world is full of very irritating things and irritating people but all that should not get to me. After all, life is not about what happens around you, but about how you feel about it. If I can stop these things from annoying me, then I can be the winner. If I can feel indifferent about passiveness and inflexibility, then I can win, but if I feel indifferent about them doesn’t that imply that I can become passive? I think it can make me not want to make a change since I don’t feel strongly about it. What then is the point of standing up for something if you’re dispassionate about it?
Is there a way to feel strongly about something and not let it get to me? I’m certain there must be.
Passive people annoy me as well, but then again I’ve become irritable lately. I think my rigidity is causing me to be chronically inflexible, this is the disease that is passed on really. However there’s just no way to stop it. If you let inflexible people do what they want then their rigidity triumphed. If you stand up to them and hold on to your guns too obstinately then the disease has been passed on to you.
Back to passive people. They annoy me lots because they let people get away with whatever they can. They’re very short sighted and think that by letting things slide they’re doing the world some good. They feel that by being quiet they should be commended since they’ve saved a ten second scene or something of that nature. Passive people may have good intention, or may have cowardice, but one thing is for sure, they don’t have hindsight. How can they? And I’m not talking about difficult to reach hindsight, they just don’t understand the future or consequences of what they’re doing today, or maybe they just don’t care.
I’m annoyed by passive people because they give up their rights very often, but even though it’s their rights, it’s not their right to forfeit them. I’m not annoyed by them giving up a right, but I’m annoyed by the consequences of this sort of behavior. They make it a norm for people to give up their rights. They make those who abuse rights think that it’s okay to do so. They make people behave in such a way such that they’re sure that others will let it slide so as not to cause immediate trouble. I’m certainly most annoyed by the fact that my rights go down the drain a lot easier.
There’s a certain kind of wisdom called patience that can look like passiveness, but there’s one difference; patience is waiting for a moment to take a proper action while passiveness is letting the moments pass you by. Silence is better if it doesn’t help to speak, but sometimes it’s just plain laziness. It’s easy to give up your right, but if you look at it from a different perspective, it’s not only your right but also the right of those who will follow. How then can you just give it up? It would sense to give it up because you don’t care about all those who follow, that I can accept, but that contradicts giving it up in the first place because you would have to care about the people who violated them so as to give them up.
But like I said, I’m generally irritable these days. The world is full of very irritating things and irritating people but all that should not get to me. After all, life is not about what happens around you, but about how you feel about it. If I can stop these things from annoying me, then I can be the winner. If I can feel indifferent about passiveness and inflexibility, then I can win, but if I feel indifferent about them doesn’t that imply that I can become passive? I think it can make me not want to make a change since I don’t feel strongly about it. What then is the point of standing up for something if you’re dispassionate about it?
Is there a way to feel strongly about something and not let it get to me? I’m certain there must be.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Enemy Drums
I woke up to the sound of drums,
But they were not music, they were bombs,
Yet with precision was the rhythm of their sound,
Every two seconds, three would hit the ground.
Four of my neighbor’s five children died,
And amidst the bombs the one that survived,
Buried his siblings all day long,
Wondering what it is they did wrong.
The sound of bombs muted our own,
And this was no longer for us a home,
But there’s no escape from where we are,
The helping hands and hearts are far.
But it wasn’t that which choked our souls,
Hearing the news was like eating burning coals,
Five were wounded from the enemy’s side,
While one hundred of my neighbors died.
Yet the story of those five was written in one large page,
Condemnation was bitter and it was told with such rage,
And the hundred were mentioned in half a line,
Any tears for us just had to be dried.
We’re dying but terrorists is what we’re called,
They play their drums, but with us the world's appalled.
The voices of hundreds who died, unheard,
The pleading of wailing mothers deferred.
The news, it burns, it tells the enemy's story,
And it seems as though they suffer with glory.
But in our land we’re slaughtered and killed,
And their lust for murder is never fulfilled.
So hear my voice or let me die,
Listen to my truth and decide if it’s a lie,
But don’t keep me waiting for too long,
I’m dead very soon, but I’ll take others along.
I’m a rat in a cage, tortured without end,
The torturer kills and for help he will send,
He will cry like a victim and torture me again,
Strong are his allies and feeble are my friends.
Not a word of those four children was said,
They’re sleeping in their graves, their killer in his bed.
Those innocent dead are criminals in the world’s eyes,
And still the drums keep beating with lyrics made of lies.
But they were not music, they were bombs,
Yet with precision was the rhythm of their sound,
Every two seconds, three would hit the ground.
Four of my neighbor’s five children died,
And amidst the bombs the one that survived,
Buried his siblings all day long,
Wondering what it is they did wrong.
The sound of bombs muted our own,
And this was no longer for us a home,
But there’s no escape from where we are,
The helping hands and hearts are far.
But it wasn’t that which choked our souls,
Hearing the news was like eating burning coals,
Five were wounded from the enemy’s side,
While one hundred of my neighbors died.
Yet the story of those five was written in one large page,
Condemnation was bitter and it was told with such rage,
And the hundred were mentioned in half a line,
Any tears for us just had to be dried.
We’re dying but terrorists is what we’re called,
They play their drums, but with us the world's appalled.
The voices of hundreds who died, unheard,
The pleading of wailing mothers deferred.
The news, it burns, it tells the enemy's story,
And it seems as though they suffer with glory.
But in our land we’re slaughtered and killed,
And their lust for murder is never fulfilled.
So hear my voice or let me die,
Listen to my truth and decide if it’s a lie,
But don’t keep me waiting for too long,
I’m dead very soon, but I’ll take others along.
I’m a rat in a cage, tortured without end,
The torturer kills and for help he will send,
He will cry like a victim and torture me again,
Strong are his allies and feeble are my friends.
Not a word of those four children was said,
They’re sleeping in their graves, their killer in his bed.
Those innocent dead are criminals in the world’s eyes,
And still the drums keep beating with lyrics made of lies.
Monday, January 22, 2007
My Cat Is Deaf
My cat is deaf and it can’t hear anything. He has a name, ‘junior’ but it’s not of much use since I can’t call on him to come or anything. But it’s still comforting to give him a name that he doesn’t understand to refer to him, after all, I do talk about him and I do talk to him even though he doesn’t hear. There’s some hidden benefit to him having a name that’s not directly visible.
But the thing is that sound does not exist for him. I used to feel sorry for him, but a friend of mine said, “Why should I feel sorry for him? God created him that way.” He’s a white beautiful cat and sometimes those white beautiful cats are born that way. I don’t feel sorry for him because he doesn’t feel he’s missing out on sounds. His world exists using one less sensory perception, or one less dimension.
Another reason I don’t feel sorry for my cat is that as humans we may be living happily with a similar lack. There may be some things that exist out there that we just can’t perceive, can’t pick up, can’t sense. We may have some clue to it, but it doesn’t seem to exist in our world. When I whisper in junior’s ears he can feel the air out of my mouth but not the sound. When I snap my fingers he can sense the movement or even see it, but not hear it. He has clues to its existence but he would not know what it means to hear. He can only see my lips moving and my hands yelling, but he can’t hear me.
I don’t feel sorry for my cat because humans are deaf too, and some of them claim that no such thing as sound exists. This narrow thinking, based only on what we can capture, reminds me of creatures who lack certain senses but cannot compensate. My cat might be deaf, but it’s no fool. Wish I could say the same about all other humans.
But the thing is that sound does not exist for him. I used to feel sorry for him, but a friend of mine said, “Why should I feel sorry for him? God created him that way.” He’s a white beautiful cat and sometimes those white beautiful cats are born that way. I don’t feel sorry for him because he doesn’t feel he’s missing out on sounds. His world exists using one less sensory perception, or one less dimension.
Another reason I don’t feel sorry for my cat is that as humans we may be living happily with a similar lack. There may be some things that exist out there that we just can’t perceive, can’t pick up, can’t sense. We may have some clue to it, but it doesn’t seem to exist in our world. When I whisper in junior’s ears he can feel the air out of my mouth but not the sound. When I snap my fingers he can sense the movement or even see it, but not hear it. He has clues to its existence but he would not know what it means to hear. He can only see my lips moving and my hands yelling, but he can’t hear me.
I don’t feel sorry for my cat because humans are deaf too, and some of them claim that no such thing as sound exists. This narrow thinking, based only on what we can capture, reminds me of creatures who lack certain senses but cannot compensate. My cat might be deaf, but it’s no fool. Wish I could say the same about all other humans.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Like a very young child whose arms were raised and holding on to the hand of a loving adult in a crowd, safe and not alone but then forsaken. Disconnected from that loving hand, and left wanting of a loving embrace was she, as she saw the crowd shifting away from her so that in fact she felt so alone despite the proximity of the crowd. This is exactly how she felt, alone in a crowd reaching out her arm to find emptiness in place of a loving hand to guide her and hold her, without a loving heart to love her or a warm embrace to hug her. She felt all that with one small variation, she felt all this without the recollection that there ever was a hand to hold hers or an embrace to hug her or a crowd that ever once surrounded her.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
I’m Stupid
Driving through the crowded streets of Cairo, a friend of mine and I got stuck in a small deadlock while trying to go through a one and a half car two-way street. One guy could have just backed off completely and solved it all, but instead, he just held up traffic and kept trying to go forward until, inevitably, he had to reverse into an empty space so that others including himself can move.
This jam was responsible for us running a bit late and so I maneuvered my way through the streets till the main street was at hand. Now as I was approaching the main street, towards the end of my one way street another car came in. Seeing that it was my way and that he had some space to back off (and that the main street was not crowded so he wouldn’t be clipped) I just paused and checked if he would go into reverse. After a little gesticulation and shouts muted by his own windows, he finally backed off enough for me to pass.
As our windows got nearer, he said very calmly, “By the way, you’re stupid.” As I was telling him that he was stupid as well, my friend was said, “It’s true”. He was telling me that I’m stupid because he’d just made a turn and that I had more space behind me, my friend agreed that I was stupid because that man had to back off a bit into the main street and I was saying that he was stupider because he went down a one way street in the wrong direction.
I’ve always thought that the person making the mistake was supposed to provide the solution, but he and my friend seemed to agree that I’m stupid because I didn’t put in an extra effort to correct his mistake. They think I’m stupid because I obstinately and idiotically thought that the road rules were on my side. They think I’m stupid because it would have cost me less effort than him to fix his mistake.
I thought that my friend didn’t know it was a one way street and that it wasn’t stupidity but rather a principle, so I made it clear and this is how my friend replied, “So what? Everybody does it.” Well then that makes it okay I suppose. I must be stupid indeed. It’s alright that people aren’t accountable as long as someone else can fix their mistakes. It’s alright that people break the rules as long as everyone accepts it. It’s alright to accept things as they are because that’s life… I remember in Alexandria before the roads were fixed, people would cross over to the other side speeding and flash their lights at people going in the correct lane so that they move out of the way. I always thought it was only courtesy to get back in the correct lane if you weren’t able to make it… but I guess I was wrong.
I think I am stupid really for thinking that courtesy ever plays a real part in life apart from its existence in books and literature, it’s not deal with your consequences, it’s have people deal with your consequences. Accept things cause everybody does it… well, I guess I really am stupid and that I stand alone in thinking that it means something to stand for something. I stand alone because at the end even though my friend said, “Sorry for the offense,” she added as she left the car, “but you do know that it's two against one.”
This jam was responsible for us running a bit late and so I maneuvered my way through the streets till the main street was at hand. Now as I was approaching the main street, towards the end of my one way street another car came in. Seeing that it was my way and that he had some space to back off (and that the main street was not crowded so he wouldn’t be clipped) I just paused and checked if he would go into reverse. After a little gesticulation and shouts muted by his own windows, he finally backed off enough for me to pass.
As our windows got nearer, he said very calmly, “By the way, you’re stupid.” As I was telling him that he was stupid as well, my friend was said, “It’s true”. He was telling me that I’m stupid because he’d just made a turn and that I had more space behind me, my friend agreed that I was stupid because that man had to back off a bit into the main street and I was saying that he was stupider because he went down a one way street in the wrong direction.
I’ve always thought that the person making the mistake was supposed to provide the solution, but he and my friend seemed to agree that I’m stupid because I didn’t put in an extra effort to correct his mistake. They think I’m stupid because I obstinately and idiotically thought that the road rules were on my side. They think I’m stupid because it would have cost me less effort than him to fix his mistake.
I thought that my friend didn’t know it was a one way street and that it wasn’t stupidity but rather a principle, so I made it clear and this is how my friend replied, “So what? Everybody does it.” Well then that makes it okay I suppose. I must be stupid indeed. It’s alright that people aren’t accountable as long as someone else can fix their mistakes. It’s alright that people break the rules as long as everyone accepts it. It’s alright to accept things as they are because that’s life… I remember in Alexandria before the roads were fixed, people would cross over to the other side speeding and flash their lights at people going in the correct lane so that they move out of the way. I always thought it was only courtesy to get back in the correct lane if you weren’t able to make it… but I guess I was wrong.
I think I am stupid really for thinking that courtesy ever plays a real part in life apart from its existence in books and literature, it’s not deal with your consequences, it’s have people deal with your consequences. Accept things cause everybody does it… well, I guess I really am stupid and that I stand alone in thinking that it means something to stand for something. I stand alone because at the end even though my friend said, “Sorry for the offense,” she added as she left the car, “but you do know that it's two against one.”
Thursday, January 04, 2007
24
24 is a brilliant TV show. I’ve always wondered, ever since watching a movie by the name of ‘Nick of Time’ why they don’t shoot some movies in real time where events can be seen as they happen. Well almost a decade later they did it with 24. The best thing about 24 is that it’s (almost) in real time. Each episode is just one hour and we can see what happens in that hour. It’s a real thriller too; you get entangled in its mesh provided you watch something like 3 episodes in a row.
Anyway the other night it was showing, Jack Bauer was hot on the terrorist’s trail and CTU (counter terrorist unit) had arrested someone who was their only lead to reach a terrorist who was trying to acquire a nuclear missile. Apart from the fact that it seems so easy now for individuals to acquire weapons of mass destruction, there was something else I found intriguing.
The man they arrested was a retired US marine who they suspected to have been a mercenary. He had no priors. So in order to hinder his interrogation, the terrorist (whose name is Marwan.. surprise surprise) calls ‘Amesty Global’ and asks for a lawyer so that CTU don’t torture that man into divulging the information that can lead to the capture of Marwan. That got me thinking of how far advanced Human Rights are to be able to have one lawyer easily obtain a court order so as not to violate this citizen’s rights. Are human rights organizations so powerful everywhere in the world? In Egypt it would take a phone call from the president to stop an act of torture, not just a simple phone call to any Amnesty. Human rights mean nothing in Egypt unless stated otherwise, totally unlike other places in the world. I’m not saying that this is the way it is in America, but I’m saying that it’s highly plausible that an American with no priors is saved from torture just by a phone call no matter how important he is to a case and how unimportant he is as a human being.
So anyway, after the lawyer had been sent, they call up the president since it is a matter of National Security asking him to intervene and let them do their job. The president fears to sanction such torture (yeah right!!) and asks them not to. At this point, with this only lead and their conviction that this man can provide them with information to save lives they had to reluctantly let him go, but good old Jack resigns and takes him on as a citizen.
Now the question here is: Can we sanctify torture if we’re sure that we can get positive results from those being tortured? There is no question that our rights (constantly violated over here) are important and that no man should be subjected to torture, but the situation described puts us in a dilemma nevertheless. In cases like these there seems to be a reason for torture, extracting answers that will save lives. After all, it’s not fair that terrorist should use these means on people and that when caught they get a five star treatment. Where’s the justice in that?
The trouble is that sometimes we should not be too rigid about our standards. I mean it’s great that we accept the right not to be tortured for everybody, but if breaking that rule meant saving thousands of lives, I would suppose that it should be acceptable. In any case it’s very hypothetical really, since we can never know what people actually know and what they don’t. In general it’s better to let the guilty walk free than torture the innocent and that’s why laws of human rights are there in general, so that we do not risk hurting the innocent. It’s just a very hypothetical question and I suppose it remains a matter of opinion if it is really worth it…
Anyway the other night it was showing, Jack Bauer was hot on the terrorist’s trail and CTU (counter terrorist unit) had arrested someone who was their only lead to reach a terrorist who was trying to acquire a nuclear missile. Apart from the fact that it seems so easy now for individuals to acquire weapons of mass destruction, there was something else I found intriguing.
The man they arrested was a retired US marine who they suspected to have been a mercenary. He had no priors. So in order to hinder his interrogation, the terrorist (whose name is Marwan.. surprise surprise) calls ‘Amesty Global’ and asks for a lawyer so that CTU don’t torture that man into divulging the information that can lead to the capture of Marwan. That got me thinking of how far advanced Human Rights are to be able to have one lawyer easily obtain a court order so as not to violate this citizen’s rights. Are human rights organizations so powerful everywhere in the world? In Egypt it would take a phone call from the president to stop an act of torture, not just a simple phone call to any Amnesty. Human rights mean nothing in Egypt unless stated otherwise, totally unlike other places in the world. I’m not saying that this is the way it is in America, but I’m saying that it’s highly plausible that an American with no priors is saved from torture just by a phone call no matter how important he is to a case and how unimportant he is as a human being.
So anyway, after the lawyer had been sent, they call up the president since it is a matter of National Security asking him to intervene and let them do their job. The president fears to sanction such torture (yeah right!!) and asks them not to. At this point, with this only lead and their conviction that this man can provide them with information to save lives they had to reluctantly let him go, but good old Jack resigns and takes him on as a citizen.
Now the question here is: Can we sanctify torture if we’re sure that we can get positive results from those being tortured? There is no question that our rights (constantly violated over here) are important and that no man should be subjected to torture, but the situation described puts us in a dilemma nevertheless. In cases like these there seems to be a reason for torture, extracting answers that will save lives. After all, it’s not fair that terrorist should use these means on people and that when caught they get a five star treatment. Where’s the justice in that?
The trouble is that sometimes we should not be too rigid about our standards. I mean it’s great that we accept the right not to be tortured for everybody, but if breaking that rule meant saving thousands of lives, I would suppose that it should be acceptable. In any case it’s very hypothetical really, since we can never know what people actually know and what they don’t. In general it’s better to let the guilty walk free than torture the innocent and that’s why laws of human rights are there in general, so that we do not risk hurting the innocent. It’s just a very hypothetical question and I suppose it remains a matter of opinion if it is really worth it…
Thursday, December 28, 2006
What makes a lie?
What makes a lie? Is a lie the opposite of the truth or are both terms a gray shade in the black and white spectrum. Assuming that a lie is a piece of information contrary to fact or truth, in that case truth or fact must be identified. I don’t want to get into the whole definition of truth and what have you, I will assume that we know exactly what a lie is about. My real concern here is when does a lie become a lie.
The trouble is that the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that it can be very subjective. If someone were to speak a fact that wasn’t true, then we would assume it to be a lie, but what if that person believed it to be true, is it still a lie? It’s not a lie to him, so can the piece of information take two forms according to the viewpoint from which you are looking at it? On the other extreme suppose someone spoke a fact that he believed to be false and yet he was mistaken about it and it turned out to be true, is it a lie then?
How much of our intention has to do with words being lies or truths?
Let’s say someone wrote a note describing something he will do as a past. A suicide note saying, “I’ve killed myself, for I could not bear the pains of this world any longer.” It seems to me like it would be a lie at the time of writing, yet transformed into the truth if it is done. It remains a lie if it is preempted. So what makes a lie a lie?? There’s an intricate link between lies and time and intention.
If one were to say I was in the street just a while back, would it be a lie if he was there a minute ago, an hour ago, a week ago? When does it start becoming a lie. If never then lies themselves are not what I thought them to be.
If lies take such a form, does its archenemy, the truth, take a similar form too? If lies contain some truth to them, then mustn’t truth contain some lies in them as well? Let’s forget sincerity for a while because sincerity never changes fact. If truth and lies can contain so much of each other then they can be confused.
But I think that there’s a difference. A piece of truth inside a lie cannot prove that all of it is true, but a small lie inside the truth has a much more illuminating effect.
The trouble is that one man’s lie is another man’s truth. If lies are so subjective, then we can only evaluate them in relation to people.
The man who said a truth thinking it was a lie seems to remain, still, a liar and to the person who heard it, that same lie is a truth.
Lies are in the ears of the beholder, but can we say the same about truth?
The trouble is that the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that it can be very subjective. If someone were to speak a fact that wasn’t true, then we would assume it to be a lie, but what if that person believed it to be true, is it still a lie? It’s not a lie to him, so can the piece of information take two forms according to the viewpoint from which you are looking at it? On the other extreme suppose someone spoke a fact that he believed to be false and yet he was mistaken about it and it turned out to be true, is it a lie then?
How much of our intention has to do with words being lies or truths?
Let’s say someone wrote a note describing something he will do as a past. A suicide note saying, “I’ve killed myself, for I could not bear the pains of this world any longer.” It seems to me like it would be a lie at the time of writing, yet transformed into the truth if it is done. It remains a lie if it is preempted. So what makes a lie a lie?? There’s an intricate link between lies and time and intention.
If one were to say I was in the street just a while back, would it be a lie if he was there a minute ago, an hour ago, a week ago? When does it start becoming a lie. If never then lies themselves are not what I thought them to be.
If lies take such a form, does its archenemy, the truth, take a similar form too? If lies contain some truth to them, then mustn’t truth contain some lies in them as well? Let’s forget sincerity for a while because sincerity never changes fact. If truth and lies can contain so much of each other then they can be confused.
But I think that there’s a difference. A piece of truth inside a lie cannot prove that all of it is true, but a small lie inside the truth has a much more illuminating effect.
The trouble is that one man’s lie is another man’s truth. If lies are so subjective, then we can only evaluate them in relation to people.
The man who said a truth thinking it was a lie seems to remain, still, a liar and to the person who heard it, that same lie is a truth.
Lies are in the ears of the beholder, but can we say the same about truth?
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Equality
Is there any hope for equality?
Out of the blue a friend of mine remarked: Heba is an ‘old rag’ (Literal translation of an Arabic word that means a promiscuous lady, bitch or prostitute). So I asked why… to which he said, any woman that puts herself in a compromising position such as marrying ‘3orfy’ (common law I think is translation) is an ‘old rag’. So I asked him, how about guys? Why are they not ‘old rags’ too? This of course provoked the mother of all clichéd argument over the equality of men and women in a society.
The conversation went around in its usual (concentric) circles brushing up on human rights and equality in the world along with how different people with different passports are treated differently.. etc.. etc.. we all know the drill.
But one point came up that made me pause later on after a quick recap of the conversation. It’s that rule that men can kill their wives if they saw them cheating and get 1 year in prison while women get life for a similar murder. My friend Solomon very graciously asked that we bypass this point because it’s obvious that here if a woman finds a guy cheating on her it can be his wife but not the other way around. The law itself gives the man that right.
This is where I pause amidst other points that were said because I wonder now if there’s any point to my believing in equality in such a society. Is there any hope for equality inside a society whose very own law is biased towards a man? Is there any point in trying to see equality in society if everything else around doesn’t advocate that equality? ‘Do onto others what you would have done onto you.’ That’s a powerful statement that I believe in and nowhere in others does it say just your same gender. I believe that what rights I have should be given to others, but how would that work with a law that says otherwise, with a mentality that says otherwise and with a logic that says otherwise. Yes ladies and gentlemen, there is a logic that says that in society, men and women should not be treated equally. Constitutional rights have long gone, but does it even make sense to ask for equality within the society?
One topic that came up was the appearance of women on a beach for example. The usual for guys is to have swim wear that covers a part of their body and for women to have swim wear to cover a greater portion of their body. Now where’s the equality there? ( I say let all women dress in the same way that men do) The point that Solomon brought up is that there’s a difference and that this difference causes a different standard to be applied on men and women. I said yes, but the same abstract rule applies, which is to cover the arousing sections of bodies (although I must say that most parts in a woman are arousing). To which he replied, but that just means the implementation is different and should be different in society.
The differences in general are there, but who knows enough about both genders to make this distinction I wonder… The point is that even with a skewed scale, people think that they’re actually implementing a sort of equality in their own way. Women are in a more compromised position and so they are more accountable, women are weaker and therefore equality is to be over protective of them… Now how can you deal with a problem like that if people claim that the problem doesn’t even exist?
So my question is: Is there any real and practical prospect of equality? Is there any hope that a society can provide equality at some point in time? Can this ever stop to be a losing battle?
I present the question to those of you out there with an answer. I don’t really know the answer to it but if I were to guess, I would say that there is no real hope. Try as we might to change people’s outlook on genders, there are things far greater than just outlook that are in play. There’s the law and the notion that difference in gender implies a difference in standards. There are people that are holding on to religious values in a dogmatic way that disables any logical argument to intervene. There are people too set in their ways to heed any voice of reason.
The real question isn’t education, most people are educated enough to know what equality’s about, the real question is what you believe and what you feel. As advanced as we are, we’re still guided by our emotions that our intellect cannot control, we know things to be untrue and yet our emotions are trained to believing them. It’s all about what people choose to believe and what side of the conflict they pick.
Out of the blue a friend of mine remarked: Heba is an ‘old rag’ (Literal translation of an Arabic word that means a promiscuous lady, bitch or prostitute). So I asked why… to which he said, any woman that puts herself in a compromising position such as marrying ‘3orfy’ (common law I think is translation) is an ‘old rag’. So I asked him, how about guys? Why are they not ‘old rags’ too? This of course provoked the mother of all clichéd argument over the equality of men and women in a society.
The conversation went around in its usual (concentric) circles brushing up on human rights and equality in the world along with how different people with different passports are treated differently.. etc.. etc.. we all know the drill.
But one point came up that made me pause later on after a quick recap of the conversation. It’s that rule that men can kill their wives if they saw them cheating and get 1 year in prison while women get life for a similar murder. My friend Solomon very graciously asked that we bypass this point because it’s obvious that here if a woman finds a guy cheating on her it can be his wife but not the other way around. The law itself gives the man that right.
This is where I pause amidst other points that were said because I wonder now if there’s any point to my believing in equality in such a society. Is there any hope for equality inside a society whose very own law is biased towards a man? Is there any point in trying to see equality in society if everything else around doesn’t advocate that equality? ‘Do onto others what you would have done onto you.’ That’s a powerful statement that I believe in and nowhere in others does it say just your same gender. I believe that what rights I have should be given to others, but how would that work with a law that says otherwise, with a mentality that says otherwise and with a logic that says otherwise. Yes ladies and gentlemen, there is a logic that says that in society, men and women should not be treated equally. Constitutional rights have long gone, but does it even make sense to ask for equality within the society?
One topic that came up was the appearance of women on a beach for example. The usual for guys is to have swim wear that covers a part of their body and for women to have swim wear to cover a greater portion of their body. Now where’s the equality there? ( I say let all women dress in the same way that men do) The point that Solomon brought up is that there’s a difference and that this difference causes a different standard to be applied on men and women. I said yes, but the same abstract rule applies, which is to cover the arousing sections of bodies (although I must say that most parts in a woman are arousing). To which he replied, but that just means the implementation is different and should be different in society.
The differences in general are there, but who knows enough about both genders to make this distinction I wonder… The point is that even with a skewed scale, people think that they’re actually implementing a sort of equality in their own way. Women are in a more compromised position and so they are more accountable, women are weaker and therefore equality is to be over protective of them… Now how can you deal with a problem like that if people claim that the problem doesn’t even exist?
So my question is: Is there any real and practical prospect of equality? Is there any hope that a society can provide equality at some point in time? Can this ever stop to be a losing battle?
I present the question to those of you out there with an answer. I don’t really know the answer to it but if I were to guess, I would say that there is no real hope. Try as we might to change people’s outlook on genders, there are things far greater than just outlook that are in play. There’s the law and the notion that difference in gender implies a difference in standards. There are people that are holding on to religious values in a dogmatic way that disables any logical argument to intervene. There are people too set in their ways to heed any voice of reason.
The real question isn’t education, most people are educated enough to know what equality’s about, the real question is what you believe and what you feel. As advanced as we are, we’re still guided by our emotions that our intellect cannot control, we know things to be untrue and yet our emotions are trained to believing them. It’s all about what people choose to believe and what side of the conflict they pick.
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