February 2006

America must be delighted at the recent attack on the Shi’a shrine and the resulting reprisal killings. Of course, I must preface all of this with the usual ‘beware of western propaganda’ line, but what they’ve wanted since they invaded might be a step closer. Everything they’ve done has been an attempt to start civil war. I don’t believe a civil war will happen. You must understand first of all that Iraqis (read Arabs, there is no such thing as Iraq, which is an artificial construct of the British empire, which handed over its power to America after its collapse post World War II) are united in their desire to see Americans leave their land.

Not that America would have had anything to do with bombing a mosque themselves to fan the flames now, would they? Muslims are not interested in blowing up mosques, of whatever denomination. Al-Qaida certainly wouldn’t back such an action. Still, for the mindless people of the world who like to go to bed at night, cosy in their preconceptions about how barbaric Muslims are, and how good any genocide of them will be, it doesn’t matter, does it?

Let’s not forget that it serves America’s purpose to see a civil war, so that they can divide and rule, whilst leaning back against the embers of a culture and history built over thousands of years, destroyed by them in a few months. They can sip a Bud and chill, while Iraq burns.

Then they can steal the country’s resources and get Haliburton et al to rebuild the country from the ashes they created.

• Who pays for the financial cost of the illegal war? The people of Iraq.
• Who has lost over a hundred thousand lives in an illegal war? The people of Iraq.
• Who lost half a million children in a holocaust started by America? The people of Iraq.
• Who suffered at the hands of a tyrant supported by America? The people of Iraq.

Whose wealth will be plundered to pay for the cost of rebuilding the country as a result of a evil decisions of an evil empire? The people of Iraq.

I find it very interesting that two stories about potential vulnerabilities in Apple’s Mac operating system, OS X, have received ridiculous coverage in the run-up to the release of Microsoft’s crappy, wannabe, cut-down Vista operating system.

No doubt people unable to read between the lines, will buy the bullshit spread about the best operating system the consumer world has ever had the privilige of using. I admit, it could be better. It is still miles ahead of anything Microsoft have done. It’s quite telling that Microsoft are forever trying to play cosmetic catch-up, ignoring what makes OS X it’s strongest feature, its erm, strength. That is - security and rock-steady reliability. I get crashes maybe once every six months. In fact, I’m due one right about now…

The security flaws are not flaws at all. The first one was a “virus” that gets transferred to you as a program by someone on your buddy list. It only works if you type in an administrator user name and password. You are in effect, walking into the software equivalent of a gay bar, exposing yourself and inviting all-comers to turns at your body. You get what you’re asking for if you’re willing to play fast and loose with your computer. Note, this is the most polite “virus” in the world. It asks you for permission before screwing you.

So continue to expect attacks on Apple and its mercurial founder Steve Jobs until Vista is released. I expect to hear soon how Jobs was a paedophile, how he was a warmonger and a terrorist. Oh sorry, wrong story…or maybe it’s all just the same.

It all boils down to money in the end.

The last indignity my children and I suffered was having our time cut back even further. Once I’d agreed (I don’t really have a choice) to the 5p.m. drop-off, ET (Enormous Tyrant) told me I should have the back for 4:30p.m. Like the torture victim signing a confession beause hell, it makes no difference now, I agreed without a whimper. Through neutral eyes that might have seemed closer to complicity than capitulation, but that view ignores context and history. (If you see a parallel between this situation and the plight of Muslims in the face of American aggression, don’t worry, I spotted that too)

We had a wonderful dinner last night my girls and I. For the second week in a row, I had decided to be a little adventurous, so I dug out my trusty “The Lazy Cook” and scanned the pages for the laziest section. I rapidly came to the well-thumbed “pan-grilling” section. The upside is that you can pretty much do a healthy meal on this one marvellous pan - that you leave parallel sear-marks on the food, which makes it look like it was prepared by Gordon Ramsey, and that the heat is so fierce that cooking time is kept to a minimum.

I did some aubergine slices and home-made-burgers made with paprika, salt, pepper, garlic and fresh minced beef. It was as close as you can get to branding a cow’s arse and then eating it, still attached to its owner. That and a green salad of spring onion, chopped onion, cucumber and green peppers dressed in balsamic vinegar, extra virgin olive oil and salt and pepper. We topped it off with sliced, pan-grilled tomato and some cheese. The final piece in the construction was something I haven’t tried before - fresh white bread cut thick and brushed with extra virgin olive oil, then pan-grilled and rubbed with a fresh clove of garlic.

It was a complete success and the girls and I polished off everything with aplomb.

Shopping and cooking left us with little time and what there was got taken up by m daughters with Nintendo DS and surfing.

Recall that my eldest is still not allowed a mobile phone by her mum, but I keep one here for her, which she uses to text my sister and me. It’s quite cute getting messages from my daughter when she’s in the next room, or sometimes the same room.

They had new bedding and new lamps and they slept happily.

This morning they helped themselves to some outrageously chocolatey cereal that they had picked out yesterday with organic semi-skimmed milk. I don’t like them having ordinary milk. I’ll have it at a push, but eggs and milk I have been having organic, as far as possible for some years now.

We played lots of hide and seek and I managed to fit my fat ass into a good spot for once and scared my youngest. Earlier, my eldest had given me a good fright. My youngest had found a brilliant spot. She is small and limber and had managed to fit herself into a small cupboard in the bathroom. It really was a Houdini moment when she jumped out.

I made them a quick lunch - fried egg and ketchup sandwich for my youngest and a toasted cheese and grilled tomato sandwich for my eldest.

Time was running out and after a quick game of tag (I was exhausted after just a couple of minutes) we got ready and left. On the way to the tube station, I bought my youngest a gift that she wanted to give to a friend. At the tube station, I got myself another Oyster card. Hopefully, this one won’t keep telling me to seek assistance and the gates obstinately refuse to let a paying passenger (that’s me by the way) through. We got travelcards for the girls, but they were only going to be used for the short trip to Finchley Road before being rendered redundant.

We made it to Wooloworth and Argos. I bought my youngest the new “puppy in my pocket” toy that she has been promoting so vigorously. She’s one for fads, and it makes her very cute. She has ever been thus. I remember when she was four, she’d be holding the TiVo control in one hand, having still-framed the adverts. Walking over to me in my office, she’d say “Papa, come here“. She’d grab my hand and lead me to the telly. “I want ‘talk Barbie’” pointing triumphantly at the screen. She was too young to know that it was a Diva Star, but the language conveyed her intent sufficiently. I relented for her fifth birthday. She got her ‘talk barbie’. I love them both so much.

I was heading back towards Woolworth to pick something else up when my eldest started to get agitated. Time had almost run out. Before she could burst into tears with frustration and fear, I called her mum. She was already at the pick-up point, early for a change, and so we had no choice, but to take a taxi. This set me back nearly a tenner. I was delighted to hear that my team had knocked Manchester United out of the cup today, but by the time I dropped them off, I couldn’t bring myself to even look at their mother who had stolen our time and conveniently, again, chopped our 24 hours into two almost useless half-day chunks, into which nothing of consequence can be fitted.

I left them, anger and pain and tears welling up. I mentally kicked myself and recovered my compsure instantly.

My kids are the best. We have a wonderful time together. They want to see more of me, but their mother pretends one thing to their face and yet her actions are always in direct opposition to her spoken lies.

It was upsetting to have earlier discovered that the event to which they had been invited had been offered to them stripped of the context of time and date. It was only after ET had confirmed their willingness to attend that she hit them with the (recurring) bombshell that it would be at 5p.m., thus curtailing their time with me. Too late. Trap sprung. My daughters didn’t want to disappoint their captor, so they said nothing and tolerated the hijack.

For the rest of the week, my daughters and I will look back at our limited, but beautiful time together, and wonder what it would be like to extend it to something that allows us to really stretch our wings. Insha’Allah.

Hands up if you’ve seen the latest pictures confirming what we already knew about the abuse by Americans in Abu Ghraib.

Hands up if it was your sister, daughter, mother being forced to bare her breasts for an American camera, if you’d be quiet about it.

Hands up if you still think the West has the moral high ground?

Hands up if you think the timing of the release of these images on the back of other anti-Islamic garbage was “serendipitous”?

Hands up if you think the war in Iraq is a just war.

Hands up if you deny the rights of Iraqis to defend their country against evil.

Hands up if you think a war to end all wars could result from this?

Hands up if you really believe that America is not heading for the dustbin of empire?

I was in Madrid today. Unfortunately, it was business and I got to see absolutely nothing of this undoubtedly beautiful city. Except the airport. I got some photos of the new terminal which is utterly enormous. Nothing can prepare you for this 21st century edifice of concrete, steel and not a lot else. It’s big. It’s very, very big. It puts Heathrow to shame. That’s right, all of Heathrow put to shame by a single Madrid terminal.

When the aliens land in their generation mothership, it will look like the new terminal at Madrid airport. Big.

The second I landed, I called my kids. They were out at about 10:15. That’s fine, except that I get told not to call late because their mother wants to put them to bed. More lies. All designed to stop me actually speaking with them.

ET (Emotional Terrorist, Evasive Turd, Evil Temper, whatever) got my eldest to act as an intermediary to arrange the time of their return on Saturday. Recall that she had already ruined that half-term day for me and my kids by taking a six-hour bite out of it, leaving me with only three extra hours for the whole of half-term. I got asked what time I was bringing them back and my reply was “7 to 7:30″. Straight back, through my eldest, I was told 5p.m., because guess what, they have been invited to a party. This happens every fucking holiday, every fucking week without fail. I told my daughter that I would talk to her mother later, because she shouldn’t be putting her in the middle. She instantly relaxed, I had felt the tension in her poor voice building prior to my last comment.

So I actually get about 25 hours. An hour more than usual.

Someone needs to sort this arsehole out - and it s going to have to be me. I didn’t want to take the last resort. I had hoped she might one day become rational, but that would like asking George Bush to admit he lied to the world. Both Bush and my ex would rather die than face their evil and accept it.

Just think, all the problems in the world could be solved if George Bush suddenly became Muslim, withdrew all aggression from Muslim lands and married my ex as his second wife.

“Dear George….I’ve got an idea….bear with me on this one…..”

Moderate Muslim

Extremist Muslim

Fundamentalist Muslim

Progressive Muslim

What purpose do these labels serve? Whose purpose does this propaganda serve?

They seek to divide and rule. And divide and rule is an age-old method for empires to control the people. Islam, united, in all its hues and colours, presents a threat to the hegemony of the West. So yes, there is a battle of wills. In whose interest is it to turn the battle of wills into a battle of terror? Is it in the interests of the people of the world?

Come on. Islam and its people have a right to defend themselves. Muslims speak for all the oppressed people of the world. Islam wouldn’t be Islam without charity. Feeding the poor is one of the deepest Muslim principles. We are not Muslim unless we help the poor and oppressed, of whatever religion or creed.

A friend of mine read all the anti-Muslim-Crusader-Christofascist hate crap years ago and we fell out for a while about it. My friend asked me what many people are asking even more vocally today. “Will the real Islam please stand up”. My friend was years ahead of her time.

It’s very easy to get online and fill your head with lies. They’re everywhere. And from a certain point of view, they are credible pretenders to truth. The real issue is one of context, framework and reference. Ask the right questions, then you have a chance of getting somewhere.

Where is the real Islam? Everywhere. In every city, in every country, in every sphere of life. We’re a billion plus and growing fast every day. Why doesn’t The Real Islam speak up? It does damn it, every single day. But no fucker really wants to hear what we have to say. It doesn’t make for good news for a start. Papers don’t sell on harmony, they sell on fear, hatred and crass pop-clecbrity-worship-culture.

What’s more, people won’t like what we have to say. Truth isn’t always palatable, is it? Medicine doesn’t taste great, does it? I’m tired of being spoken for when I’m already talking. I can’t build bridges on my own, I need people to meet me on the other side. Fortunately, there are a few of them about and they write better blogs than I’ll ever manage - you’ll find links to my friends on the right.

And will someone please turn down the volume on this “moderate Muslim” garbage. It’s fucking insulting. I’m not a moderate Muslim, I’m a Muslim, end of. The prefix “moderate” is used to symobilse those Muslims who won’t say boo to a Bush or call Blair a liar. “Moderate Muslim” in media-speak means those who will not defy the status quo. They will shut the fuck up while their brothers’ and sisters’ countries are raped, looted and pillaged, while the most evil cunts on the planet dig up shit about us being violent and a cult of death.

1. I am a Muslim.
2. I am a jihadi. I conduct jihad every day of my life. It’s what makes me a Muslim, I am proud to be a jihadi. Confused? Then ask me what it means and I will tell you.
3. I am a shahid. No, not shaheed, there is a difference, but you only want “moderate Muslims, so you won’t engage in dialogue with me, but if you do, I will tell you the difference.
4. I despise what my country, Britain, is doing. But I love my country. I condemn the behaviour, not the nation. Does The Sun care about the difference?
5. I consider those being killed by Western troops in Iraq and Afghanistan martyrs. Yet I feel shame that the greatest fighting force in the world (The British Army) has been betrayed by its leadership. The British Soldier is in an impossible position and I feel sorry for him. He deserves to be fighting for the right cause. He is not. And his Generals know it and speak up about it too, but still, nothing changes, because Tony Blair is a cunted up cunt, forever condemned to an eternity of anal-probing by Bushcock
6. I am an extremist. I am extremely cross that my religion has been hijacked by people who know nothing about religion except how to use it to further their personal gain and glory.
7. I am a Paki, I am a nigger, I am a yid, I am a raghead, I am every oppressed person in the world and I stand with them, not with corporate excess and greed that creates oppression and want and hunger and genocide.
8. I am British. I am proud to be British. But I also think that after what the rape-victims of empire endured, they have every right to be here. All two billion of them. And if we can’t cope, then that’s our fucking problem, not theirs, because we fucked them over to begin with. I hate what London is becoming, but it’s not immigration that has done it, though it has revealed our weakness - we have no shared values. If we had shared values, immigrants would know what to fit in with, wouldn’t they, and then they would become “us” and we wouldn’t know the difference.
9. I hate the ideology of the West. I hate the values of the West. But I love the people of the West. Well, just under half of them anyway.
10. I am a Muslim and I am not a moderate, though I am moderate…

Is Islam incompatible with being British? Damn straight! As a nation (but not as people), we now stand for greed, hypocrisy, turning a blind eye to hunger, oppression and genocide, we stand for idol worship, for drugs, for alcohol, for kicking the poor, for rewarding the criminals. You’re damn right that Islam opposes all that - but - would I be happy living in a Christian British state that lived under the best of Christian values? Damn straight! I went to a CofE primary and it was wonderful. CofE has gone backwards since though, as it tolerates the worst excesses of a society bent on hedonism and self-destruction.

Would I prefer an Islamic state to what we have? Damn straight. But an Islamic state is not the Taliban or Saddam Hussein. A true Islamic state allows freedom of expression, freedom of religion, freedom from want, freedom from sex oppression, freedom from child labour, free speech, but not freedom to abuse and insult.

A Muslim is a Muslim. I’m not going to bomb my fellow citizens, that is a crime in Islam, but I am going to shout on this poxy blog about injustice and hypocrisy and greed until I’m shot by the statzpolizei, down in the tube station at midnight.

We have to face up to what we have done.

We have raped the world for centuries and we shouldn’t act surprised when the world cries “enough”.

So you know it’s half term and you know I didn’t find out until Friday night.

I managed to get a whole day off Friday, so this morning I chanced a text to ET (emotional terrorist, my ex) to see if I could see the girls on Friday. Three hours later, no reply, no missed call (I call back when she gives me a missed call). I called and despite having to step my way carefully through the verbal quicksand of bullshit and lies, managed to get a Friday morning pick-up arranged. Result!

I passed the day happily in the knowledge that I’d have my wonderful children for two days and a night, knowing that they would be in a clean environment with all the love, support, value-transmission and nurturing a father can give in the limited time he has.

I called the girls in the evening and got the gate-keeper. This is always trouble. I was told that my eldest had requested that they come later in the day. I demanded to speak with her, but it was too late. The brain-washing had taken effect and there was a weary resignation in my eldest’s voice. Stuck in the middle with poo. There was nothing to fight. Why punch air? If you lash out, ET will only push the kids in the way.

So now I had taken the day off at short notice and I will only get to see them for three hours more than usual. My kids want to see more of me, so ET acquiesces and gives them three more hours with their dad.

Why? Is the reason important? Well, maybe. She wants to take them to jumu’ah prayer. That’s Friday prayer - the congregational prayer that is compulsory for males and optional, but highly recommended for females. “Aha” I hear you say. “She’s doing something good, why are you moaning you selfish prick?”. And you might have a point, except that it’s not so simple.

Friday prayer is optional, but recommended. That makes attendance a good thing, sure. However, saying five prayers in a day is compulsory for Muslims. She doesn’t pray. Fine. Her choice. Can’t judge her for that. Her defence today was “I’m raising them in the best way I can”. I explained to her that the basics come first. Get them praying, the very bare minimum, then the rest is find and dandy. This value mash-up is irrelevant to her.

She also knows my views on her membership of a money-grabbing messianic cult of death at the fringes of Islam called the Ahmadiyya, which of course, I was once part of. Mainstream Islam views them as heretical, but I give her the benefit of the doubt. She is free to choose her way. I guess praying is not important in the Ahmadiyya, but social appearances are absolutely essential. Much more important than fatherhood too I guess.

It’s appearances first, dad second, prayers last, or rather, nowhere at all. Which makes fatherhood last. Every time. who suffers? The children. Every time.

Shame, shame, shame.

With apologies to Gerry Rafferty

Well I don’t know why I blogged here tonight
I got the feeling that something ain’t right
I’m so scared in case my writing’s not fair
And I’m wondering how I’ll get down the stairs
Danes to the left of me, Germans to the right
Here I am, stuck in Great Britain with ‘flu

Yes I’m stuck in Great Britain with ‘flu
And I’m wondering what it is I should do
It’s so hard to keep the feds from my door
What’s that knock, should I keep writing some more?
Danes to the left of me, Germans to the right
Here I am, stuck in Great Britain with ‘flu

Well you started out with brown skin
And you’re proud that you’re a Muslim man
And your neighbours all come screamin’
Stab you in the back and say ‘Leave! Leave!’

Trying to make some sense of it all
But I can see that it makes no sense at all
Is it cool to do jihad in Iraq?
Or stay here and get shot thrice in the back
Danes to the left of me, Germans to the right
Here I am, stuck in Great Britain with ‘flu

Well you started out with brown skin
And you’re proud that you’re a Muslim man
And your neighbours all come screamin’
Stab you in the back and say ‘Leave! Leave!’

I don’t know why they ran that cartoon
The editor’s a fucking buffoon
Free speech is just a phrase that they use
To hate, defile, despoil and abuse
Muslims to the left of them, Muslims to the right
There they are, stuck in our countries like glue

Yes, they’re stuck to our countries like glue
Yes, they’re stuck to our countries like glue
Yes, they’re stuck to our countries like glue