Tuesday, March 30, 2004
"A man hooked on drugs and alcohol while living in Florida". We thought Mohammed Atta wae reading Qoran when he did not noticed the World Trad Center and crashed into it. You see he was drunk baby. Police should put some control over drunk pailots, I do believe.
Fuck NATO! We can't wait till 2010! We gotta use those bloody submarines; We pay tax for it. So we're gonna make war in Sahara and send our submarines to keep peace down there.
اتو بوس ها دربه در ِ ایستگاه هایند.
Labels: شعر
Monday, March 29, 2004
I guess my generation at least, has only heard of "night watchmen" in the fairy tales. But strange enough there is at least one left right here in Copenhagen. He knows songs which indicate the time and he would go walking around or may be still does, singing those songs just to wake people to tell the it's not time to get up yet; Sleep tight!
Although I fucking hate the little tiny heritages of our glorious past, yet this guy is funny. He seems quite cool.
دهان ِ دریده ی ِ دروازه را
مچاله می کنم
تا که در چاله ی ِ دهانم
دری به تخته بخورد
و دهان دره
در ِ دهانم را
به خود وانهد.
مچاله می کنم
تا که در چاله ی ِ دهانم
دری به تخته بخورد
و دهان دره
در ِ دهانم را
به خود وانهد.
Labels: شعر
"The [Danish] government should not be requesting asylum seekers to go home on a voluntary basis", says the High Commission for Refugees.
This HCF sounds fucking stupid. It's not "on a voluntary basis"; We are nice people, we just force them to leave.
Ireland associates pubs, doesn't it? Pubs associate beer and smoke, right? "Anyone caught smoking illegally in pubs, restaurants and other enclosed workplaces across Ireland will now face fines of 3,000 euros ($3,650)". Can any one believe this shit? Are they out of their fucking mind?
Thursday, March 25, 2004
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
I found the link to these photos in a pornographic web site! Some of the pix are pure madness of art. Fir instance check this out. The confusion may be due to the nudity that made the porno guy link this page into his web site.
Monday, March 22, 2004
In a terroristic attack the founder and spiritual leader of terrorist militant group Hamas was assassinated. Palestinians have somehow threaten which somewhat will result some more terrorism that in itself would be responded by some other terror! I'm just thinking of George's anti-terrorism war which is in a way including the whole world. Who says that George is not a prophet? He's coming from heaven to rid us from terrorism; to rid us from ourselves! Men are all terrorist, aren't they?
Sunday, March 21, 2004
از عین تا قاف
قرابت ِ غربت
مقبره ی ِ غربال شده ای ست
از غبار؛
خاک ِ مرده ای
بر خاستگاه ِ خواهش و اختیار
دریده تر از دره ی ِ دهان ِ دیوانه ای
دربه در ِ دالان ِ دریوزگی.
مقبره ی ِ غربال شده ای ست
از غبار؛
خاک ِ مرده ای
بر خاستگاه ِ خواهش و اختیار
دریده تر از دره ی ِ دهان ِ دیوانه ای
دربه در ِ دالان ِ دریوزگی.
Labels: شعر
After so many years I was reading Carlos Fuentes' Aura again. Now the French currency had been changed to Euro and it felt as if the story belonged to another eara, different than the one where we are living and the story was written in. It was as strange feeling as the odd story itself.
Denis de Rougemont who is know by his famous book Love in the Western World, has another book which-to my knowledge-is not translated to English. It's called Les mythes de l'amour. I don't speak French, so I borrowed the Persian translation اسطوره های ِ عشق from the Danish public library which has many Persian books most of which of course bought by no comprehensive measure.
Anyway, it was funny to have a chat with a friend about the book who missed reading this book because he couldn't speak French, nor could he speak Persian. There we were talking about how comes that in a country like Iran where "the taxis are camels and people live in the tents, supporting terrorists" this book is translated whereas it's not even available in English, not mentioning the Danish!
It was just funny. Even though I wasn't so Happy reading that awkward translation. The translator, Jalal Satari has such an awesome "style" that make it so hard to understand what the writer meant.
Saturday, March 20, 2004
These days the mailman has ringed my door bell several times. It made me realize that I don't ever hear my door bell, simply because nobody rings it! It sounds good though. It's nice to live alone in one's own apartment where a door separates it from the rest of the fucking world, but it may result that on forgets how one's door bell sounds; as I did. So I thought to myself, it could go so far as one day I might not notice one is ringing my door bell since I don't know how it sounds or I have forgotten it. So I got up, opened my door, pushed the black, round button and rang the bell. It said "bling...blingggg". I said "cool". Yeah it's good to know how it sounds.
The IRIB has made a page called the Persian grammar (دستور زبان فارسی) that-despite of reducing it's language style-is just a copy of Khanlary's grammar method. Of course the IRIB possess everything in the world and who gives a fuck about the Copy Right. I just wonder why they just don't copy the text correctly and spare us their creativity by adding bullshit into Khanlary's text or omitting it.
Friday, March 19, 2004
Copenhagen police says that "so long as there are buyers there will also be pushers because the rewards in the hash world are extremely high." In the other hand "every year some 500 million kroner’s worth of hash is sold on Pusher Street in Christiania. " It simply means that a big majority of people in the small city of Copenhagen are buying hash. So what's it that police gonna do? Arrest everybody?
Thursday, March 18, 2004
I don't believe the prophets, but I believe in prophecy.
Labels: Poem
یک مشت اسکناس ِ تانخورده ی ِ زِبر
در جیب ِ دهانم
در انتظار ِ سخنان ِ گران سنگ
خیس می خورد؛
من لال شده ام.
در جیب ِ دهانم
در انتظار ِ سخنان ِ گران سنگ
خیس می خورد؛
من لال شده ام.
Labels: شعر
Monday, March 15, 2004
خاطرات ِ من دفتر ِ نانوشته ای ست از آرزو، برگ برگ گمشده در لابه لای ِ روزهای ِ معطل ِ بی حساب.
Labels: شعر
