Spin this you fucking motherfucker jiyala's. Spin till you have no place to live. Are you any better than the spineless soldiers who never question the chain of command? You and your fucking shameless craven excuses.
Not to mention that the fucking pipplya's can't wait till that National Anthem to finish playing before they start with their goddamned craven 'jiye-bhutto' shit! I'm no fan of the pretentious "Qaumi Tarana" but for FUCK'S SAKE! Get a sense of proportion and perspective you FUCKING CRAVEN FUCKWIT SPINELESS COWARDS!
And here is Saadi Youssef's "The Jackal's Wedding'
…what are we to do about the jackal's wedding
You remember the old days:
In the cool of the evening
Under a bamboo roof
Propped on soft cushions stuffed with fine wool
We'd sip tea ( a tea I've never since tasted)
then a cackling explodes
from the long grass and date palms-
the jackal's wedding!
today isn't yesterday
(truth is as evanescent as the dream of a child)-
truth is, this time we're at their wedding reception,
yes, the jackal's wedding
you've read their invitation:
I'll go in your place
(Damascus is too far away from that secret hotel…)
I'll spit in the jackal's faces,
I'll spit on their lists,
I'll declare that we are the people of Iraq-
We are the ancestral trees of this land,
Proud beneath our modest roof of bamboo.