[ so f'ing sweet ]







kitty r0xor.

a says: i think we should hang ourselves
b says: me first.
a says: it'll be a statement
a says: no fair
a says: me first.
a says: ...ill flip you for it
b says: heads.
a says: do you have a propensity for landing on your bum?
a says: because that would make this unfair.
b says: alright, you call.
a says: it occurs to me that you have no tail
a says: ah well. tails it is.
b says: heads.
a says: again.
b says: heads
a says: again.
b says: heads, im afraid.
a says: of what?
a says: again.
b says: heads...
b says: of being right.
a says: again
a says: about?
b says: heads.
b says: everything, really.
a says: again.
b says: because then i'll be responsible.
a says: yes, i know.
b says: ..heads, again.
a says: does your bum hurt yet?
b says: no. but my head does.

Our father who art in Washington
Whirled Bank be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,
or else, there'll be no more lending.

Give us this day our triple A credit rating,
and forgive us our past loans,
as we remove all barriers to investment.

Our economy is your economy,
your economy is our economy,
we are all one,
globally integrated,
forever and ever.

Amen.

http://whirledbank.org

lol. thank you, das.

[ 10,000 miles to grace- ]

there is a girl in new york city
who calls herself the human trampoline
and sometimes when i'm falling, flying
or tumbling in turmoil i say
woah, so this is what she means
she means we're bouncing into graceland
and i see losing love
is like a window in your heart
everybody sees you're blown apart
everybody feels the wind blow

in graceland, in graceland
i'm going to graceland
for reasons i cannot explain
there's some part of me wants to see
graceland
and i may be obliged to defend
every love, every ending
or maybe there's no obligations now
maybe i've a reason to believe
we all will be received
in Graceland.

~paul simon

[ from Anarchy's Adventures in Europe. ]












PS: to avoid confusion, Illinois is not in Europe. that was a friend getting bored in A-level Math class.

PPS: this post looks lovely in Firefox, iExplorer users are bound to run into problems. i have news. if you're still using iexplorer, you deserve shitty-looking webpages :)

PPPS: Firefox is working!! thanks, sheen :D

we have a new word for pretentious, wannabe-omniscient, condescending, superiority-complexed, patronizing Social Science majors.

Miguelomaniacs.




xD



all due credit to Doc Sadia for this one :)

the single most disturbing thing i've heard in a while:

"there are few things sexier than a girl crying."



there are some real assholes out there, eh? finding suffering attractive.. thats pretty twisted, nahin?





..jeez.

readjusting. fuck off.

i have a song.


on the 30th of november my backpack has for me:

10 strips of tablets
9 layers of clothing
8 forms of cold cream
7 pairs of undees
6 bars of candy

5... warm... socks....

4 woolen sweaters
3 sports bras
2 little beanies

and a partridge in a pear treeee

:D


good grief. i need writing pads. and toilet roll. and hand sanitizer.

and i need to go. bye, all :)

[ pick of the day ]


www.pms.com

100th blogpost.

Somalia – the humanitarian imperative on display in 1992. A US Marine stands guard as a media circus descends on starving children. Photo: Paul Lowe / Panos Pictures


http://www.newint.org/issue383/keynote.htm

&

The return of the poster child

[ and unbelievably romantic song ]

childhood living is easy to do
the things you wanted i bought them for you
graceless lady you know who i am

you know i can’t let you slide through my hands

wild horses couldn’t drag me away
wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away

i watched you suffer a dull aching pain
now you decided to show me the same
no sweeping exits or offstage lines
could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

wild horses couldn’t drag me away
wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away

i know i dreamed you a sin and a lie
i have my freedom but i don’t have much time
faith has been broken, tears must be cried
let’s do some living
after we die

wild horses couldn’t drag me away
wild, wild horses, we’ll ride them some day

wild horses couldn’t drag me away
wild, wild, wild horses,

we will ride them some day

~Bush, Wild Horses. RS cover.

reasons why CS/Math/Econ/Accounts majors should be FORCED to take social sciences.

#3241

"but miss, can't we argue that slaves were better off in America? i mean, they were unemployed in Africa..."





its right up there with #2343

"feminism is crap. most women enjoy being raped, right?"










...

just... yeah.

[ ends ]

im trying to put an email together. asking people to visit hospitals during eid, visit kids, take toys. there are people to whom you will be the only "family" they'll get to see on eid. dont just go there, make a big noise and swoop down with fancy toys and gifts. even just sitting and talking to them would be nice. the adults are worried about family and friends back home. maybe this will help, i dont know. i know, in some small way, what its like being alone on eid when everyone else is home and warm with their families.

what does it take to motivate people? what could i possibly say that would make you go? i think thats my biggest, worst burnout. trying to get people to work. if anyone's here for eid, and if you think you can, please go. get in touch with me or sadaf aziz, and we'll hook you up with the hospitals. it would mean a lot, honestly.


oh yeah, and if you can compose a mail to this effect, please do so and mail it to me, so i can forward it to everyone. spread the word. we need every single one of you, i swear.

come up to meet you, tell you i’m sorry,
you don’t know how lovely you are.

i had to find you, tell you i need you
tell you i set you apart
tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions
oh lets go back to the start
running in circles, coming up tails
heads on a silence apart

nobody said it was easy
oh it’s such a shame for us to part
nobody said it was easy
no one ever said that it would be this hard
oh take me back to the start

i was just guessing at numbers and figures
pulling your puzzles apart
questions of science, science and progress
do not speak as loud as my heart
tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
oh and i rush to the start
running in circles, chasing our tails
coming back as we are

nobody said it was easy
oh it’s such a shame for us to part
nobody said it was easy
no one ever said it would be so hard
i’m going back to the start.

one would think that the other dukh zamaney mein muhabbat key siwaa would be enough to keep you occupied. at the end of the day, wars do not defeat us, our inability to be honest with ourselves, with everyone else... that will leave us beaten.

really interesting. kudos to LDRF for the forward.

Myths and realities in disaster situations

Myth: Dead bodies pose a health risk and cadavers are responsible for epidemic in natural disasters

Reality: Contrary to popular belief, dead bodies pose no more risk of disease outbreak in the aftermath of a natural disaster than survivors.

Myth: Epidemics and plagues are inevitable after every disaster.

Reality: Epidemics do not spontaneously occur after a disaster and dead bodies will not lead to catastrophic outbreaks of exotic diseases. The key to preventing disease is to improve sanitary conditions and educate the public.

Myth: The fastest way to dispose of bodies and avoid the spread of disease is through mass burials or cremations. This can help create a sense of relief among survivors.

Reality: Survivors will feel more at peace and manage their sense of loss better if they are allowed to follow their beliefs and religious practices and if they are able to identify and recover the remains of their loved ones. Source: WHO/PAHO Myths and Realities in the Management of Dead Bodies.

Myth: It is impossible to identify a large number of bodies after a tragedy.

Reality: Conditions always exist that allow for the identification of bodies or body parts. Source: WHO/PAHO Myths and Realities in the Management of Dead Bodies.

Myth: DNA techniques for identifying bodies is not available in most countries due to its high cost and technological requirements.

Reality: This technology is rapidly becoming accessible to all countries. Furthermore, in the case of major disasters, most countries can count on external financial and technological support including DNA technology. Source: WHO/PAHO Myths and Realities in the Management of Dead Bodies.

Myth: Foreign medical volunteers with any kind of medical background are needed.

Reality: The local population almost always covers immediate lifesaving needs. Only medical personnel with skills that are not available in the affected country may be needed.

Myth: Any kind of international assistance is needed, and it's needed now!

Reality: A hasty response that is not based on an impartial evaluation only contributes to the chaos. It is better to wait until genuine needs have been assessed.

Myth: Disasters bring out the worst in human behaviour.

Reality: Although isolated cases of antisocial behaviour exist, the majority of people respond spontaneously and generously.

Myth: The affected population is too shocked and helpless to take responsibility for their own survival.

Reality: On the contrary, many find new strength during an emergency, as evidenced by the thousands of volunteers who spontaneously unite to sift through the rubble in search of victims after an earthquake.

Myth: Disasters are random killers.

Reality: Disasters strike hardest at the most vulnerable group, the poor -- especially women, children and the elderly.

Myth: Locating disaster victims in temporary settlements is the best alternative.

Reality: It should be the last alternative. Many agencies use funds normally spent for tents to purchase building materials, tools, and other construction-related support in the affected country.

Myth: Things are back to normal within a few weeks.

Reality: The effects of a disaster last a long time. Disaster-affected countries deplete much of their financial and material resources in the immediate post-impact phase. Successful relief programs gear their operations to the fact that international interest wanes as needs and shortages become more pressing.

Myth: Starving people can eat anything

Reality: It is widely held that people who are starving will be very hungry and eat any food that can be supplied. This attitude is inhumane and incorrect. Even if hungry initially, people often do not consume adequate quantities of unvaried and unfamiliar foods for long enough. More importantly, the starving people are often ill and may not have a good appetite. They will therefore languish in an emaciated state or get even sicker. Even someone well-nourished would fail to thrive on the monotonous diets of three or so commodities (e.g. wheat, beans and oil) that is all that is available, month in, month out, to many refugees and displaced people. And this is aside from the micro-nutrient deficiencies that often develop. This misconception starts, in part, from a failure to agree on explict objectives for food assistance -- which should surely be to provide for health, welfare, and a reasonably decent existence and help in attaining and acceptable state of self-reliance and self-respect. Source: Lancet, Vol. 340, Nov 28, 1992

Myth: Children with diarrhoea should not be intensively fed

Reality: A view from many years ago, and from non-emergency situations, sometimes persists -- namely, that children must be rehydrated (and diarrhoea prevented) before re-feeding. This policy is incorrect and, with severely malnourished children, it can be fatal. Any child with diarrhoea must be fed, if necessary with a liquid diet by nasogastric tube, at the same time as additional fluids are given. Even if the diarrhoea is profuse, some nutrients are absorbed and can start the recovery process. To begin feeding after rehydration will often be too late. Source: Lancet, Vol. 340, Nov 28, 1992

Myth: Refugees can manage with less.

Reality: This misconception dehumanizes the refugee. It implies that, once uprooted, he or she no longer has the basic human rights to food, shelter and care - that these are now offered as charitable acts and that refugees can (or should) make do on much less than non-refugees. In fact they will often need more than their normal food requirement at first if they have become malnourished and sick before arrival at a camp and need rehabilitation; and may suffer exposure from inadequate shelter. If the only food source is provided by camp organizers, these rations have to be adequate in all nutrients. This requires a mixed food basket, including fruits and vegetables. If this cannot be ensured then trading may have to be encouraged if refugees are not to become undernourished and deficient in micro-nutrients. The fact that some foods may be traded, to add variety to the diet, is no grounds for reducing the ration. Source: Lancet, Vol. 340, Nov 28, 1992

Myth: Trading foods indicates that people do not need all of the rations.

Reality: If the only food source is provided by camp organizers, these rations have to be adequate in all nutrients. This requires a mixed food basket, including fruits and vegetables. If this cannot be ensured then trading may have to be encouraged if refugees are not to become undernourished and deficient in micro-nutrients. The fact that some foods may be traded, to add variety to the diet, is no grounds for reducing the ration. Source: Lancet, Vol. 340, Nov 28, 1992

Myth: A standard ration is suitable for all populations.

Reality: The recommended per caput calorie output for a refugee population should vary according to demographic composition, nutritional and health status of the population (allowing for an extra "catch-up" allowance where people are malnourished), the activity level the intake is intended to support, environmental temperature, and likely wastage in the chain from supply of food in a country to its consumption by individuals. In other words there is a range of requirements for dietary energy, which will depend on the circumstances, and use of a single figure is likely to lead to either deficit or wastage. The figure of 1900 kcal (commonly assumed to be of general application) often underestimates what is needed. Source: Lancet, Vol. 340, Nov 28, 1992

Myth: Energy adequacy means nutritional adequacy.

Reality: The diet needs to be adequate in both quantity and quality, meeting requirements for calories, protein, and micro-nutrients. Where refugees are completely dependent on the ration provided -- for example, in the early stages of an emergency or in closed camps, where trading for diversity cannot be ensured -- the ration must be designed to meet the requirements of all nutrients in full. Often, a ration is designed to meet minimum energy requirements and micro-nutrients are left to look after themselves. How micro-nutrient needs are to be met must be made explicit, especially when the ration provided is calculated on the basis of fully meeting energy needs. Foods should be diverse and palatable, and the special needs of weaning children must be met.

Myth: Disasters cause deaths at random.

Reality: Disasters tend to take a higher toll on the most vulnerable geographic areas (high-risk areas), generally those settled by the poorest people. Source: WHO/PAHO Myths and Realities in the Management of Dead Bodies.

Myth: It is best to limit information on the magnitude of the tragedy.

Reality: Restricting access to information creates a lack of confidence in the population, which can lead to misconduct and even violence. Source: WHO/PAHO Myths and Realities in the Management of Dead Bodies.

http://www.who.int/hac/techguidance/ems/myths/en/index.html

mangroves

when someone mentions mangroves, shore birds, turtle hatchlings, i swear it feels like theyre talking about extended family, distant cousins who've settled in other oceans, far away..

The failed rescue of ‘Emma’

MUZAFFARABAD, Oct 14: They had nicknamed her Emma. Found miraculously alive under the rubble on Wednesday, rescue workers toiled delicately for hours to pull her out. But an aftershock made the team leave and when they returned for one more effort on Thursday morning, Emma was dead.

The Turkish and British rescue workers in Muzaffarabad, the earthquake-ravaged capital of Pakistani Kashmir, run the series of events over and over again in their heads.

Distraught, they wrestle with questions about guilt, duty and danger and wonder what they could have done differently.

But, they repeat to themselves, they had no choice. At 1:24 am on Thursday, a new earthquake of 5.6 on the Richter scale left the collapsed house too dangerous to work on.

It was around noon on Wednesday when, against all odds, dogs from Turkey and Germany spotted the 22-year-old woman, a full five days after the massive Earthquake.

The dogs barked at two places, signalling life under the rubble. But the crumbled building in Muzaffarabad’s old city risked being crushed to the ground by a 20-ton piece of cement roof hovering above.

The British volunteers were overjoyed. The dogs had pinpointed the exact point where she was.

“We were confident. The night before we had found someone else alive in the old city, a 74-year-old man, who had been there for four days and escaped without injury,” said Geoff Parkinson, a 38-year-old farmer who is part of the Search and Rescue Assistance in Disasters group.

For hours they meticulously scraped their way into the rubble to find a safe way to get Emma out. With some wood they held up the roof that threatened the whole structure. And they gave her an English nickname.

“Emma! Emma!” they cried out, knocking on the cement in hopes she would respond.

And then, the new quake.

“It came as a shock as we were just about to reach her. We left the site for 10 minutes then came back. But the structure had begun to crumble a little bit when the team left — it was clear that the house was falling down and had become dangerous,” Mr Parkinson said.

The next decision was agonizing.

“We worked hard but the site had become too dangerous so we had to leave it,” said team member Daniel Davis, a 20-year-old student. “It was terrible, as if we had abandoned her.”

As they returned to their camp they cried. When they returned on Thursday morning they didn’t utter a word to one another. All that was on everyone’s mind was the hope that Emma was still alive.

But within 15 minutes, the dogs gave their verdict — they no longer barked. The odour of a decomposing body provided confirmation. Shortly afterward, the corpse was found. As the team had expected, the cement had collapsed overnight. She died underneath it.

On the site, there was silence.

“I don’t know anymore what I felt ... guilt. But we did everything we could,” said Davis, who was on an earthquake site for the first time.

“She was alive and now she’s dead,” said Fahri Akdemir, a 24-year-old Turkish rescuer. “Maybe it’s our fault, or maybe it’s someone else’s or the aftershock’s.”

Parkinson’s thoughts keep going back to the events of that night.

“We tried to see if we could have done something differently. But the only thing we could do was to leave. If not the team would have been injured or killed,” he said.

“There wasn’t any choice. But if the earthquake came six hours later, the story could have ended differently.”—AFP http://dawn.com/2005/10/15/top4.htm

my throat is killing me, i can feel my lungs rasping, i cant breathe. white guilt.
at 4 pm i was lying on anita's bed, on the pretty colourful bedspread with the warm sunlight streaming in through my window, the postcards twirling in the soft whooshing fan-air, the pc playing something nice and soothing... thinking how lucky i am, to have this sun in my eyes, this warm, safe bed, to have enough food security to be able to go without it from sunrise to sunset. my biological cycle is sound, i am fairly healthy, in ten years i will have a stable job, healthy children and a secure future. and that is privilege.

dad might be going to AK and/or Abbotabad. that shook me, more than anything.. it takes a lot to tear my father away from his work, steady job, family-first... to go to a remote area, help people who are neither kith nor kin, just help because.. i dont know. why do we? because it means something? because this place is home?

i feel sorry for people in the US right now. im getting frustrated in my bubble, and im in LUMS, lahore. u guys over there must be killing yourself over this... i find it hard to go out and have a good time, watch a movie, just spend a little time laughing with friends... how the heck are you guys keeping up over there? it must all seem so shallow and meaningless...

spent some time talking to sara z ... its almost serendipity that i met her when i did, i was in really bad shape. ironically, the pressure-release model has some truth.. we were sitting on a freaking time bomb here... the disconnect, the apathy, elitism... and we just sat there for half an hour wondering... why dont more people give a fuck? why is life going on? stop it, now... clear up this mess, this freaking crisis you've created. people tell me about lootings, hoardings, profiteering so nonchalantly im wondering... doesnt it bother you? you're just saying it as if... "oh well, that was going to happen".. all i need now is someone to tell me- this is the Third World. deal with it.

ill tell you one thing, ladies. for all you assholes out there who are sitting and pointing fingers. its naive to not know about something. it is not naive to want to change something. that takes fucking guts, fuckloads of courage.. courage that you and i will never fucking have, not in a million years, because thats how flabby our elite white asses are. for gods sake, have some shame, if you dont have the balls to stick your neck out, put your ass on the line, to just try.... at least, at the very least, respect those who do.

Dear Students

We have recieved the details of monetary collections LVS made.The total collection from and through the students of LUMS is Rs. 1,147,895 (1.147 million)

The split for this amount is:

Days Rupees

Sunday (2 hours of collection) : 36,700

Monday, Oct 10 2005: 212,600

Tuesday, Oct 11 2005: 405,020

Wedneday, Oct 12 2005: 227,455

Thursday, Oct 13 2005: 237,696

Friday, Oct 14 2005: 88,388

Total 1,147,859

We really appreciate the time, energy and money that Luminites have put into this relief effort. We would also like to thank LVS and their volunteers who collected this huge amount.

We are open to suggestions that might generate funds for the victims of the quake. If you have ideas, please do not hesitate to contact us.

Thankyou everyone.

LUMS Disaster Relief Fund

From:	Zahoor Hassan	Sent:	Wed 10/12/2005 1:46 PM
To:	Faculty; Staff; 'a&vfaculty@lums.edu.pk'; STUDENTS
Cc:
Subject:	IMPORTANT DECISION REGARDING LUMS DISASTER RELIEF FUND (LDRF)

IMPORTANT DECISION REGARDING LUMS DISASTER RELIEF FUND (LDRF)

Dear Students, Faculty & Staff:

Based on careful discussion and deliberation, we have decided to ask faculty, staff and students to voluntarily contribute certain minimum amount to the LUMS Disaster Relief Fund (LDRF), to be deducted from/charged to their accounts (details given below).

With every passing hour it is becoming tragically obvious that we are facing one of the worst humanitarian crises *insert more official schpeil on the matter here*

Yesterday, we had announced a LUMS Disaster Relief Fund (LDRF) Target of Rs.10 Million to be reached by the end of this week. Many from the LUMS community have already stepped forward and contributed generously to the LDRF. However, before we look to our outside links and contacts, we have to clearly demonstrate and set the example that we who really constitute and make LUMS, have genuine empathy and a generous heart. We, as an institution have to show reliance on our own resources and commitment and lead from the front. We have to show that we can raise Rs. 10 Million on our own and once we do so many others will be much more galvanized to further contribute to this effort. In order to get to our target of Rs. 10 Million, after long and careful discussion and deliberation we have decided ask faculty, staff and students to voluntarily contribute the following minimum amount to LDRF, to be deducted from/charged to their accounts.:

All LUMS Faculty will contribute the equivalent of their two-days salary, every month for the next three months.

All LUMS Staff (with a salary over Rs. 25,000 per month) will contribute the equivalent of their two-days salary, every month for the next three months.

All Students will contribute Rs. 3500 (i.e. the equivalent of One Unit of education at LUMS).

LUMS will make deductions from the faculty and staff salaries (starting next month onwards) and bill the students for their contribution in their fee cards.

If a faculty or staff member is unwilling to make this contribution or feels that he or she does not have the financial capacity to make this contribution, they should inform the Dean of their respective school by email.

Students who are not willing or able to make this contribution should inform Ms. Samina Hafeez, Deputy Manager, Admissions and Student Services, (E.Mail: samina@lums.edu.pk)), by sending an email with their name, father’s name and roll number.

If at all you fall in the category of people who do not or cannot make this contribution, please send the aforementioned intimations by 12.00 noon on Friday, October 14.

We are sure that many of you are already making contributions to this very worthy cause in many other ways and through various other avenues. This, however, is an opportunity to do something through the common bond, avenue and institution that holds us together and gives us the identity of being associated with LUMS.

We will be keeping you posted on a daily basis as to the decisions and actions that have been taken pertaining to usage of LDRF. Last night a team of five experienced LUMS trekkers left for some remote villages of Bagh in NWFP under the superviison of Dr. Sohaib Khan and they were carrying Rs. 200,000 from LDRF for purchase of food items for people in the area as well as Rs. 60,000 worth of medicines and equipment. We will continue to collect cash, medicines and other provisions. The collections will be rapidly disbursed primarily through 1) Islamic Relief, and 2) Edhi Trust. Some funds will also be utilized to provide direct immediate support. At the same time, ideas for long-term contribution towards rehabilitation are also being discussed by committees constituting of faculty, staff and students and at the moment adoption of certain badly hit areas for constructing and sustaining tent villages and helping the local school and education system are being streamlined, in collaboration with local partners.

We, therefore, strongly urge and request you to support the spirit of this endeavour and contribute.

With best regards

Dr. Syed Zahoor Hassan
(Vice Chancellor)

Dr. Jawaid Ghani
(Dean - Suleman Dawood School of Business)

Dr. Anwar Khurshid
(Dean - School of Arts & Sciences)

some thoughts on the issue of institutionalized charity.

1) in our community (Ismaili, for those of you who dont know that about me yet) we dont give zakat. we fill out zakat waiver forms which are frankly a pain in the ass but ill get to that later. we are expected to contribute 12.5% of our salary every year in what we call dasond. no one reminds you to give dasond. no one offers to remove it from your paycheck, your bank account or assets. im not sure if theres even a fixed date by which you have to give it.
im sure there are people out there who dont pay dasond. im sure there are people who give less than theyre supposed to. but i can safely say that the majority of people take it out, all by themselves, whenever they can- end of the fiscal year, during eid, whatever- sometimes giving a fraction less, sometimes giving significantly more. they sit and calculate 12.5% all by themselves. take the initiative to go to the bank/atm and withdraw money. curse the bank/atm for being closed/not functioning/out to lunch. go back the next day. bother to find out WHERE to give the money, WHO to give it to. but somehow, by some miracle, people believe in that 12.5 strongly enough to go and do it all by themselves.

2) it annoys me when people create convenient loopholes for themselves. a clean, surgical, hassle-free removal of money from your bank account. given that your assets and reserves are revalued, devalued, go up and down all the time, i doubt it makes a difference. the act of parting with cash you earned is lost. the act of being motivated enough to go out of your way to give, Give... is lost.

3) if people arent giving, its NOT completely a lack of morals on their part. thats too easy. the cold, miserly, tightfisted Scrooge who doesnt care. the majority of people who dont give part of their money are NOT, by and large, Scrooges. theyre disconnected. targeting a lack of funds in the zakat pool (or the LDRF, for this matter) is TOO EASY- just take it out of their accounts. actually getting people to feel, to think, to give... make them feel part of a community, feel some responsibility is difficult. its cowardice to avoid that challenge. to critically look at society and think- where are we screwing up? where is the love, anyway? thats much more difficult than a couple of swift accounting measures.



im sorry guys... but as much as i try to love people in econ and accounts, theres always this one little thing, little slip... it can be a mental block when trying to comprehend concepts of NON-PROFIT-MOTIVATION or ambivalence/apathy towards the various ills of the world... they cant think beyond that, at the end of the day.. no matter how genuine their intentions are. sometimes some people go beyond that block. they are currently seriously questioning their choice of major/career.


finally... that little bit... "This, however, is an opportunity to do something through the common bond, avenue and institution that holds us together and gives us the identity of being associated with LUMS" we did that... all of yesterday, and the day before, and today... sacrificed mids, term papers, food, sleep, time, energy... and we'll be doing it for the next week, inshallah, if the need be. you are welcome to join us. you are welcome to be part of that. Give a little. do yourself the inconvenience... its not that bad.

day 2

11pm, storm. need we say any more? temperatures dropped to an easy 21 in Lahore, god alone knows whats happening Pindi and beyond.
heartwarming turnout today, feeling a lot better about humanity in general and luminites in particular. LAS boys on their way to Bagh in this crazy weather. six hours to pindi, and onwards from there. how the hell those people up north are going to survive in this weather for another night is beyond me.
at least now i know that there are a decent 100-200 people out there who will show up for these things, come rain or shine. and there are people who will give everything they can, and then some. hope our efforts end up making some small difference in the end.
at the end of the day, im just exhausted. and theres a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that our efforts seem so small, in the grander scheme of things. that truck we loaded looked tiny against the flashing sky and billowing clouds of dust. men shouting, tarpaulin snapping, gunny bags and jerry cans piled high... somehow its still not enough. all this, and we still need a miracle.

so much to do. come on now, they're counting on us. for we have promises to keep, and miles to go before we sleep, and miles to go before...

thank god ibad came up to me last night and said "fuck, dude, i dont know why im doing this anymore"- waving a sheaf of linear algebra notes in my face. yeah, i know. ghotki was the same. fucks you in the head, so many people gone like that.
last night i ran back to the dorms to get the blanket and sweater i had left in the room. shandana had told me to get people from the dorms to help pack the stuff, but there were very few people in the dorm. since most were out on campus, i assumed there would be tons of volunteers at the collection-packing thing too. i was pretty surprised to see only a handful... made me wonder what everyone else was doing. bhai bethey they, guppay maar rahey they... you couldve just come n helped. people did show up later.. and i realise several of them were with the blood camp.
also cheered me considerably to see so much stuff... people have really given from their hearts. top quality LAS jackets, blankets, clothes. well, maybe not sooo much, but a lot. and i know more will come, i know there are great people out there. those who will step up and donate blood without a second thought, help in any small way they can. trying to push disappointment out of my mind and believe that we have what it takes to come together as a community. disappointment like salma saying "aww.. this sweater is too cute to be worn by a kashmiri kid" and disappointment like the religious society not lifting a finger, a freaking finger to help any of us. they hold prayers. oh god. trust God to come into everything and FUCK peoples minds over. you'll sit for three goddamn hours in that mosque for fucking tarawih and feel self-righteous, but you wont come and pack some clothes up so that the people actually helping these people have an easier time. disappointment like compo and writing today- thought sara was going to break down, but i could feel her frustration. ma'am, i think one i reminded through these things of Gods supremecy.... and miss, i know people can help themselves... i mean, theyre already so poor, they cant need much aid, can they? wiasey, dude, where ARE the 09's? bhainchod nazar hi nahin aarahey, except for the odd one or two. i KNOW 5-fucking-hundred of you were admitted... is this not cool enough for you?

you find yourself working with all sorts of ideas and politics you never thought you would. you have the sense to keep your reservations to yourself. and just do it. let what happened affect you, realize that very little else matters, at this point.

[ Stoppard. ]

[Guildenstern is pretending to be Hamlet]
Rosencrantz: Let me get it straight. Your father was king. You were his only son. Your father dies. You are of age. Your uncle becomes king.
Guildenstern: Yes.
Rosencrantz: Unusual.
Guildenstern: Undid me.
Rosencrantz: Undeniably.
Guildenstern: He slipped in.
Rosencrantz: Which reminds me...
Guildenstern: Well, it would.
Rosencrantz: I don't want to be personal.
Guildenstern: Common knowledge.
Rosencrantz: Your mother's marriage.
Guildenstern: He slipped in.
Rosencrantz: His body was still warm!
Guildenstern: So was hers.
Rosencrantz: Extraordinarily...
Guildenstern: Indecent.
Rosencrantz: Hasty.
Guildenstern: Suspicious.
Rosencrantz: Makes you think.
Guildenstern: Don't think I haven't.
Rosencrantz: And with her husband's brother!
Guildenstern: They were close.
Rosencrantz: She went to him...
Guildenstern: Too close.
Rosencrantz: For comfort.
Guildenstern: It looks bad.
Rosencrantz: Adds up.
Guildenstern: Incest to adultery.
Rosencrantz: Would you go so far?
Guildenstern: Never!
Rosencrantz: To sum up: your father, whom you love, dies. You are his heir. You come back to find that hardly was the corpse cold before his young brother pops onto his throne and into his sheets, thereby offending both legal and natural practice. Now... why exactly are you behaving in this extraordinary manner?
Guildenstern: I can't imagine.

All your life you live so close to truth it becomes a permanent blur in the corner of your eye. And when something nudges it into outline, it's like being ambushed by a grotesque.

.....
...
..
.


-Shouldn't we be doing something... constructive?



-What did you have in mind? A short, blunt human pyramid?

[ john lennon lovers, burn in hell. ]

let's talk of peace....

sounds so cliche
a
novelty,
catch phrase of the day
middle, index,
sign of the time
just as complex,
as water to ...

someone said

give peace a chance

and, that's all that we're saying

while we're sitting
on the fence

pretending,
our hearts are in the right place
but, your face
shows a trace of

hypocrisy.

~Extreme




thankoo, x :p

well, i dreamed i saw the knights
in armor coming,
saying something about a queen.
there were peasants singing and
drummers drumming
and the archer split the tree.
there was a fanfare blowing
to the sun
that was floating on the breeze.
look at Mother Nature on the run
in the nineteen seventies.
look at Mother Nature on the run
in the nineteen seventies.

i was lying in a burned out basement
with the full moon in my eyes.
i was hoping for replacement
when the sun burst thru the sky.
there was a band playing in my head
and i felt like getting high.
i was thinking about what a
friend had said
i was hoping it was a lie.
thinking about what a
friend had said
i was hoping it was a lie.

well, i dreamed i saw the silver
space ships flying
in the yellow haze of the sun,
there were children crying
and colors flying
all around the chosen ones.
all in a dream, all in a dream
the loading had begun.

flying Mother Nature's
silver seed to a new home in the sun.

flying Mother Nature's
silver seed to a new home...


..just.. nice :)

[ discovering the americas, for anarchy. ]

dark and silent late last night, i think i might have heard the highway calling

~Carolina in my Mind. Indigo Girls, James Taylor cover.

IF A MAN TELLS YOU THAT HIS FAVORITE MOVIE IS FORREST GUMP, HE WANTS TO GET INTO YOUR PANTS.







this Public Service Message has been brought to you by People Who Care.

to look life in the face

always

to look life in the face

and to know it, for what it is

at last, to know it.

to love it, for what it is.

and then,

to put it away.


leonard

always the years between us

always the years

always

the love

always


the hours.

[ Janis ]

Janis Joplin was absolutely a barnstormer and a complete groundbreaker. She wasn't just a great woman in rock -- at the time she was the woman in rock. Janis really created this whole world of possibility for women in music: Without Janis Joplin, there would be no Melissa Etheridge. Without Janis, there would be no Chrissie Hynde, no Gwen Stefani. There would be no one.
I was a freshman or sophomore in high school when Janis first connected with me. Pearl was the first record I bought. I remember that I was kind of scared. I think that if Joni Mitchell gave me the idea that a woman could write about her life in a public forum, Janis gave me the idea that a woman could live a wild life and put that out there in a public forum, too. At the time, I was this very proper Catholic girl, and Janis was a frightening presence. But being scared didn't stop me from buying Janis' records, and it didn't stop me from wearing a black armband to school the day she died.

It's hard to imagine now the extent to which Janis was so completely shocking at the time. There had been blues singers who were wild and unrestrained -- but even they tended to be a little more buttoned-down than Janis. She always seemed on the verge of being totally out of control. Last summer, I watched the Monterey Pop Festival film for the first time in ages, and I was absolutely stunned by Janis. She had this focus that was relentless. She was a spectacle, like some kind of nuclear being bearing down on the crowd. In the film, you see Mama Cass at the end of Janis' performance just shaking her head, standing up and applauding, like, "Oh, my God, what just happened?" She had an unshakable commitment to her own truth, no matter how destructive, how weird or how bad. Nothing else seemed to matter. She was such an individual in the way she dressed, the way she sang, the way she lived. She loved her whiskey and made no bones about it. This was a full-blown one-of-a-kind woman -- no stylist, no publicist, no image-maker. It was just Janis.

The beauty and the power of Janis Joplin as a singer is her complete lack of fear. She held nothing back. She went to the edge every time she opened her mouth. She sang from her toes and from her soul. She could also destroy you when she got vulnerable, like on "Me and Bobby McGee," where you saw the little girl underneath. But through it all, Janis never lightened up. She didn't live long enough to lighten up. She was a very fierce, very beautiful bright light that burned out way, way too quickly.

~Rosanne Cash




for the boy who irretrievablely, irreversiblely brought music into my life. thank you- i will always love you, if only for that.

[ gems. ]

KARACHI, July 20: The benefits of market economy through healthy competition have started trickling down...


lol. they sound so relieved, the poor bastards. Yes!! Mankiw and Freidman are Gods! The Free Market liiiiiiveeeesss!!!! :D


for all interested, the rest of the article from http://dawn.com/2005/07/21/local14.htm:


Calling cards facing tough competition

KARACHI, July 20: The benefits of market economy through healthy competition have started trickling down to the common man in several sectors, and the telecommunication sector is one where the cost of various services is constantly declining and, as a result, users are getting services on cheaper rates. An official of a major company in the telecommunication sector, while talking to the APP, said though there was no even playing field for various players within the telecommunication sector, there was still a tough competition going on.It would become tougher, he said, as more players enter the market forcing basic changes to be brought about and make money through economy of scale instead of skimming the market.He said the calling card business was loosing fascination and charm with which these had been launched in the beginning since most of the telecom service providers were offering long distance and international calling services at competitive rates as package and value added deals on their own networks.Responding to a query, he said, the first wireless phone working on the WLL was offering 99 paisas per minute as charges on nationwide and Rs4.99 per minute for international calls.Call charges within the country on the same net was already lowest at 40 paisas per minute, he said, adding that it would force others to bring down their rates to the same level.When asked if the said company had any hidden costs, he said the long distance and international (LDI) and wireless local loop (WLL) licenses had made it possible to offer such rates and make money from a broader clientele.Substantiating his statement, he said various players in the telecom sector were now focusing on widening their network so they could catch the leftover or the dry market.One such company, he said had planned to have 200,000 public call offices (PCO) by the end of the year at competitive rates, adding it would be a final nail in the coffin for calling card companies. Eventually, the PTCL would also have to reduce its calling rates, he observed.He said there was tremendous demand for new business and residential telephone services in many developing countries.More operators were looking to wireless technologies to rapidly provide thousands of new subscribers with high-quality telephone service at a reasonable price.Furthermore, new service providers could quickly deploy non-traditional WLL solutions to rapidly meet the community’s telephone needs.He said advanced technology had seriously challenged the monopoly of the state-owned entity, which was now entering the private sector and would be made to work according to market forces and competition.The arrival of the WLL in the country was playing an important role in the country’s social and economic development.The WLL-based phones, he explained, eliminated the need to put in place expensive copper wires and, therefore, could be installed in any locality.In fact, some analysts were of the view that the WLL was the ideal alternate to fixed line telephones.—APP



dedicated to Tina ;)

one night. one am. one car. three tipsy women and a nida. there's something bout khi :)

why do you build me up [build me up] buttercup, baby just to let me down let me down and mess me around and then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby when you say you will {say you will} but I love you still i need you - i need you - more than anyone, darlin' you know that i have from the start so build me up (build me up) Buttercup, don't break my hearrrttt...

There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made.

~The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien

In the beginning there was a river. The river became a road and the road branched out to the whole world. And because the road was once a river it was always hungry.

~the famished road, Ben Okri

[ karhi. ]

1/4 tsp. rye
1/4 tsp. zeera
1/2 tsp. lassan
karhi patta (about 5-6 leaves)
1 green chilly (fat, uncut, stemmed: the non-"chilly" variety.)
1/2 tsp. haldi
1/4 tsp. red chilly powder
oil
salt

Batter
1/2 cup dahi*
3/4 cup besan
1 tsp. salt

*preferably just a little tangy, borderline sour. the kind which can cause a bit of a tingle in that area at the back of your mouth.. the space between the ear and the jaw bone... where it is always nice to kiss and be kissed.
put the ingredients for the batter into a mixing bowl and add two cups of water. process the mixture anyway you like- fork, spoons, whisks, electric beaters, food processor- as long as you've got the lumps out.

heat oil in pan. considering you're going to be pouring in a good three four cups of water, make sure the pan is large. and make sure its hot. and make sure the oil is just the right amount, at just the right temperature. three-four tablespoons at medium heat for five mins should do it.
at this point, you reach a crucial juncture in family history. my mother only likes onions in moderation. my father was weaned on them. so my dadi would always throw in half a small chopped onion at this point until it turns from coral-pink-white to transparent-honey. in my opinion onions add great texture to just about anything, but if you dont agree, proceed to the next step.
toss in the rye and zeera. the flame should be low at this point, so as not to burn the stuff. add lassan paste. stir for a bit, then throw in the fat chilly. at this point something or the other is almost always burning, so add a bit of water. add red chilly powder and haldi, and then pour the contents of the batter while stirring. add another cup of water.
and then we add the karhi patta.
if you live in some far flung corner of the world that does not have karhi patta growing just about everywhere, youre going to have to settle for a dried/fried variety. drying and frying, while both excellent ways of preserving flavour, cannot compare to fresh karhi patta plucked from your (or the neighbour's) garden. unfortunately, this is where instructions cannot guide you anymore. to know how much karhi patta it will take to make the perfect karhi, you have to rely on intuition. does it smell powerful, potent- does the scent rub off on your fingers? does it kiss the back of your throat? then three or four big leaves will suffice. do you have to lean in, close your eyes, open your mouth and inhale before you can taste that faraway flavour of heat, lemon and spice? then you should throw in at least 6 leaves. it all depends.
stir the karhi for a minute. then leave it on a slow fire to cook, covered. check after five-ten minutes, it should thicken. check for salt, and then leave to cook for another twenty minutes. serve with rice, khichri* or eat plain, with bits of bread.

*for best results, scoop khichri into a mound on your plate. very carefully create a hole in the centre of the mound, to make a well. pour karhi into the well. and then mash the whole thing up.
while it is uncertain whether this does anything for the taste, two 3-year-olds (now 20) will testify that it does enhance the experience.

Satellite

ending,

beginning- the

sum of parts and the whole

leave; enter, fight

escape. Blend, mix

dance and play and

hurt each other, so gently

that they laugh in

astonishment. No tears.

tears are for flavoring kisses

of farewell, so sweet but

so incomplete without

that sad, salty trickle of

fear… transit room boarding

passes loading space shuttles

flying off into the great unknown

and both of us remain

here but I’m still alone

without you, spinning

satellite. more moving

more pushing shoving

take no luggage,

leave no bags

of love, and

sorrow

all the memories of

walking down empty

morning beaches, finally

figuring it out… memories

of the times we never

had.

[ if you haven't, go hear it already. ]

Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It’s not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know

What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn’t make things new
Just by saying I love you

Now I’ve tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close don’t ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know

What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn’t make things new
Just by saying I love you

~Extreme

in the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade and he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him ’til he cried out in his anger and his shame i am leaving, i am leaving, but the fighter still remains... yes he still remains.


li la li, li lalala li la li, li la li, li lalala li la li, lalalala li, li lalala li la li, li la li, li lalala li la li, lalalala li, li lalala li la li, li la li, li lalala li la li, lalalala li, li lalala li la li, li la li, li lalala li la li, lalalala li, li lalala li la li, li la li, li lalala li la li, lalalala li, li lalala li la li, li la li, li lalala li la li, lalalala li, li lalala li la li, li la li, li lalala li la li, lalalala li, li lalala li la li, li la li, li lalala li la li, lalalala li....

[ forgive me a cruel chuckle. ]

who'dda thunk i'd be endorsing F-16s.
i guess i know how they felt when women could finally smoke in public. its terrible, it shouldn't be done, but if it means thumbing the patriarchal system, i guess you'll get a grin out of me.
so, while hello kitty and the like have apoplectic fits, allow me to introduce you to the new face of the Pakistan Air Force ...

Saba Khan
'Equals'

The air force academy is still male-dominated, and it's not clear what the real feelings of the male cadets have been to the induction of women onto the fighter pilot programme.

Officially, most have welcomed the move.

But when one male cadet said the women should be shown compassion, female cadet Saman Ahmed was swift to say they were there to compete on equal terms.
"We don't expect compassion, we don't get compassion, and we don't want compassion," she said.
And this confidence is not without reason for Cadet Ahmed has already won praise in her engineering studies, beating both men and women.
Her excellence is not confined to the classroom, either.
During a rifle exercise, I watched as she shot all five bullets right in the bull's eye.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/4533367.stm

so from the thousands of women who cradled their babies in one arm and their kalashnikovs in the other and faced the men in their war machines, we now have women flying the war machines. historically, wars have meant greater participation for women.. but so have revolutions. and its great (i guess) that women are now, "finally" part of this whole mad war, but they've been part of the revolution for so many more years...
in reterospect, the last thing we need is die-hard feminists going like "yay, we can be fighter pilots now, patriarchy's finally dying out, pakistan's finally become more moderate".. for god's sake, no its not. hatch as many "conspiracy" stories you want (musharraf wants the army to be looked upon as "liberal," theyre making a few concessions to the west, its just affirmative action, whatever)... ultimately, stuff like this just distracts us from the real battle.

roger dat, houston. over and out ;)

[ a corporate story. ]

so one morning in good old lums, we open our eyes and see this



and this



and this



and this



now, naturally, those of us who
a) know that advertising, selling or endorsing tobacco within 5 miles of a university campus is explicitly prohibited by law
b) dont like a bunch of ugly men with puppoo sideburns and shiny white teeth staring at us
were obviously very, very annoyed. and many of us are smokers, however we know that at the end of the day tobacco is tobacco (a carcinogenic drug, not a pretty little plant), PTC is big tobacco (affiliated with the British-American Tobacco company), and the only reason THEY still have a business is because of their advertising, governement pay-offs, and our dedicated chain smokers. so lets be honest. if PTC wants recruits to sell, manage, manufacture and advertise their tobacco, we'll give em something better. many many very very happy happy SMOKERS!!!! :D

at the end of the day, it was just a move to slam the hypocrisy of our administration in their face. for those of us who know lums history and the babar ali foundation, we know that this joint was established as a manufacturing plant for yuppies. in the 80's big business needed dedicated young managers in their outlets in pakistan, and the Lahore University of Management Sciences was set up to provide just that. for those of us who study here, it is becoming increasingly obvious that the highest bidder owns the walls, pillers, arches, and any other sqaure foot of advertising space in this uni- no questions asked- while our societies scrimp and struggle to get a single banner or poster up to advertise a sports tourney, or a mela... and even those are confined to specific softboards. this isnt the first incidence of corporatization of this campus: PnG, unilever, Nestle are in our faces twenty-four/seven. and you might argue that- well, what do you expect- a business is a business. yes, but then people's power is people's power. moreover, while some people might not be aware of the creepy underbelly of happy-happy brands like Nestle and PnG that own everything from your butter to your toothpaste, the tobacco issue is blatant.





thanks.. adeel, emad, izhar... good work :D

i made the poster in the labs at about 12. qasim and i got it signed by azmatullah (it says "SUPPORT British-American Tobacco," after all) at 1, and by 1:30 there were thirty of these all over the place. at 3:00 ammara decides that confining ourselves to softboards is useless, and slaps one on one of those standing banners that you see there. very effective. you know where it said "you know who you are, but who do you want to be?".. she took a piece of paper and wrote in huge letters "CANCER PATIENT", and stuck it at the bottom :D
twenty minutes later, a huge suited booted guy comes around, does a double take at the poster and rips it off, shaking his head, muttering "this is such bad publicity.."
twenty minutes later, the posters mysteriously reappear... :P

by 5 pm, everyones confused. who put these up? who keeps putting these up? qasim and i go around and meet the PTC guys... salaam, shake hands, take pics etc :P
azmatullah came running up at that point, with a bunch of torn down posters in his hands. apparently, some MBA faculty member had FINALLY gotten it, and called azmatuallah up and asked him to take them down.... beychaara, he was obviously very confused and kept asking us.. iss mey kuch ghalat to nahin likha hai?

the next day, at 6:30 we meet the vice chancellor (they still dont know we did it, we went voluntarily). he informs us that sending such confusing messages was unethical on the part of the miscreants.. that some society should have endorsed it.. and that "if you have an anti-smoking campaign, ill be right behind you!" they LOVE the idea of these little channels of communication ... they wont support dissent, but they'll loudly tell us to "voice your opinion". dont have protests... have debates, have little little petitions with lots of nice signatures. they wont answer straight... there was no mention of responsibility of the admin to the students, no.. "the students can start a program where you make one smoker into a non smoker everyday!!" ohh goody gumdrops i feel so much better knowing that its so freaking easy getting hard smokers to quit gee whiz thank you for your ignorance, sir...

hassan j and qasim kept their cool and decided that the green light to "express any opinion" is all we really needed. and we will start an awareness campaign about smoking. however, i still maintain that there was no time, during this whole process, to make our point in any way other than what we did. we went in with the explicit purpose of embarrassing and slamming both the PTC (for sheer audacity, if nothing else,) and the LUMS admin (who probably thought no one would notice, that no one would care...). and we'll take your debates, and your petitions, and we'll make you honor them, no less.. all in good time.
but this was just sneaky. touche. :)


nausheen... thanks so much for the pics :)

[ mmm.. ]

there's something about the

look in your eyes

something i noticed when the light was

just right

it reminded me twice that i was alive

and it reminded me that

you're so worth the fight

im beginning to notice how much this feels like a waking limb, pins and needles

adecadeago, i neverthoughtiwouldbe, atwentythree, onthevergeofspontaneouscombustionWoe-is-me.But iguess thatitcomeswiththeterritory; anominouslandscape ofnever ending calamityI need you to hear, I need you to see that I havehad all I can take andexploding seemslikea

so pardon me while i

could you show me, dear?

killthequeenandcrushthehive

[ this funk the feelin that you stay for ]

Fellas, I'm ready to get up and do my thing... I wanta get into it, man, you know.. Like a, like a sex machine, man, movin' and doin' it, you know... Can I count it off?

One, two, three, four!

Get up, (get on up) get up, (get on up) stay on the scene, (get on up), like a sex machine, (get on up) get up, (get on up) get up, (get on up) stay on the scene, (get on up), like a sex machine, (get on up) get up, (get on up) stay on the scene, (get on up), like a sex machine, (get on up)

Wait a minute!
Shake your arm, then use your form
Stay on the scene like a sex machine
You got to have the feeling sure as you're born
Get it together, right on, right on.

Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)

Hah!

Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)

You said, you said you got the,
You said the feeling,
You said the feeling you got to get
You give me the fever 'n' a cold sweat.
The way i like, it is the way it is,
I got mine 'n' don't worry 'bout his

Get up, (get on up) stay on the scene, (get on up), like a sex machine, (get on up) get up, (get on up) get up, (get on up)

Bobby! Should I take 'em to the bridge?
(Go Ahead!)
Take 'em on to the bridge!
(Take em to the bridge!)
Should I take 'em to the bridge?
(Yeah!)
Take 'em to the bridge?
(Go Ahead!)
Hit me now!

Come on!

Stay on the scene, like a sex machine!
The way I like it is, is the way it is
I got mine, (dig it!), he got his

Stay on the scene, like a lovin' machine
Stay on the scene, like a lovin' machine
Stay on the scene

I wanna count it off one more time now
(Go ahead!)
You wanna hear it like it did on the top fellas?
(Yeah!)
Hear it like it did on the top?
(Yeah!)
Hit it now!

Get on up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)
Get on up, (get on up)

Stay on the scene, (get on up), like a lovin' machine, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)

Taste, (get on up)
Bein', (get on up)
Taste, (get on up)
Bein', (get on up)

Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)
Stay on the scene, (get on up), like a sex machine, (get on up)

You gotta have the feelin, (get on up)
Sure as you're born, (get on up)

Get it together, right on, right on
right on, right on, (right on, right on)
right on, right on, (right on, right on)
right on, right on, (right on, right on)

Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)

And then, shake your money maker,
Shake your money maker, shake your money maker, shake your money maker, shake your money maker, shake your money maker, shake your money maker

Get up, (get on up)... get up, (get on up)... get up, (get on up)... get up, (get on up)... get up, (get on up)

Huh!

Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)
Get up, (get on up)

Can we hit it like we did one more time, from the top
Can we hit like that one more time
(One more time!)
One more time!
Let's hit it and quit! (Go ahead!)
Can we hit it and quit? (Yeah!)
Can we hit it and quit? (Yeah!)
Can we hit it and quit? (Yeah!)
Hit it!

~ James im-black-n-im-PROUD! Brown

“
One of the (sub)-themes running through Woolf's [A Room of One's Own] is the "convention... that publicity in women is detestable." As a result, "anonymity run's in [women's] blood. The desire to be veiled still possesses them."
”

~Kofi Owusu

remember once.. i had asked you.. if were alright for me to cover myself (as i often do, when going to the market, when stepping into public spaces) and we agreed, that yes, i can and i may...
but you must detest it. as much as they detest your presence in their public. and by THEM yes, i mean men, and women who agree to live by Man's religion and Man's economy and Man's rules... made by that Man-God, the Tyrant...

[ opp. sector u, dha, lhr. ]

And the women tug their hair
Like they’re trying to prove it won’t fall out
And all the men are gargoyles
Dipped long in irish stout

The whole place is pickled
The people are pickles for sure
And no-one knows if they’ve done more here
Than they ever would do in a jar

This could be rotterdam or anywhere
Liverpool or rome
’cause rotterdam is anywhere
Anywhere alone
Anywhere alone

And everyone is blonde
And everyone is beautiful
And when blondes and beautiful are multiple
They become so dull and dutiful

And when faced with dull and dutiful
They fire red warning flares
Battle-khaki personality
With red underwear

This could be rotterdam or anywhere
Liverpool or rome
’cause rotterdam is anywhere
Anywhere alone
Anywhere alone

The whole place is pickled
The people are pickles for sure
And no-one knows if they’ve done more here
Than they ever would do in a jar

This could be rotterdam or anywhere
Liverpool or rome
’cause rotterdam is anywhere
Anywhere alone

This could be rotterdam or anywhere
Liverpool or rome
’cause rotterdam is anywhere
Anywhere alone

~beautiful south

the bullet hit the back of her at the exact instant the coffee cup touched her lips. in all honesty it was absolutely fascinating, the way it seared through her skull so that you could almost hear it straining against the metal, bone and flesh and carving another door at the end, smashing straight into the unsipped-first-sip of gently steaming coffee.

and i do believe she heard the explosion as it happened. and that if you reassembled her face, stuck it back with elfy you'd see that her lips were twisted into the first smile in a long, long time. and if you'd known her for many, many years before, you'd realise that the only way you could possibly know whats inside her mind was by putting a bullet through her head. i peered inside, half expecting to see the hard, heavy locks and bolts she used to keep everything to herself. half expecting to see a mind undergoing metamorphosis, struggling to become more resiliant, more insensitive, more... 'male'.

i dont think she ever realised that there was a paradox in her ardent misogynism. she wasnt the profound sort. she probably didnt even realise that she was battling aganst her femininty to get ahead, snapping out ideas, flaring at the slightest provocation. rage is a wonderful thing. only the truly violent can understand the rush of irrational anger, the exquisite, trembling fear of having gone too far- it feels like running off a cliff. it feels like the air would, if there were only air around you. then you fall, of course, but you'll be surprised at how thick skinned some professional violents can be. she found herself addicted to this game; her addiction grew with the number of people who began to fear her moods, respect her dedication... loathe her acerbic tongue. and because we still live in the real, un-politically-correct world and prejdices are woven into the fabric of our skin, these traits were seen as, if not completely male, then definately less female. ruthless. thats the word. thats what she was going for- ruthless. minimum family, spartan living conditions, no husband-kids-and-a-dog, and yet people in movies always handled it so much better. the charred fragments of her brain revealed nothing of the hunger and fatigue every day, every night. they told nothing of the fact that no matter how far you went in this world, you would always only be second-best. and that you could never possibly excel at a game in which they tailor to their own suiting, and make their own rules. and if there was a fuel to this fire, it would be the rage she felt evertime someone felt sorry for her. or helped her. or said "dont push yourself so hard"... they might as well have said "you cant handle it".

but, she reflected, none of this would be revealed by a bullet. or an axe. or anyother weapon designed by man to spilt her head into half. gentler, subtler, much more powerful forces of love, compassion, friendship were left undiscovered by her and those around her.

the coffee cup left her lips and was set carefully on the table. two strong arms folded firmly before her as she leaned closer, fixing the man in front of her with a peircing, cool glare.

".... i refuse to compromise on this..."

so much blood i'm starting to drown
runs from cold to colder
time to time the sky's come down
to help me lose my way
tears and lies for answers
you and open veins, god knows i'm gone
girl i just want you to
come on down
lord it's a storm and i'm heading to fall
these sins are mine and i've done wrong, oh babe
come on down

long gone day
mmmm, who ever said
we wash away with the rain

see you all from time to time
isn't it so strange
how far away we all are now
am i the only one who remembers that summer
oh, i remember
everyday each time the place was saved
the music that we made
the wind has carried all of that away

long gone day
mmmm, who ever said
we wash away with the rain

so many tears i'm starting to drown
the rain in heaven's all come down
silver spoons affix the crown
the luckless ones are broken
fears and lies for answers
you and open flames
god knows i'm gone
and i just want you to
come on down, hmmm

lord it's a storm and i'm heading to fall
these sins are mine and i've done wrong
i want you to, oh, i just want you to
come on down

i fear again, like then, i've lost my way
and shout to god to bring my sunny day

~mad season