PML-N+PML-Q = PML
Don't say I didn't say so.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Farewell Ahmed Faraz!
so yeh javaab hai meraa meray udu kay liyay
keh mujh ko HirS-e karam hai nah Khauf-e Khamiyaazah
usay hai satwat-e shamsheer par ghummaND bahut
usay shikoh-e Qalam kaa nahiN hai andaazah
meraa Qalam naheeN kirdar us muHaafiz kaa
jo apnay shehr ko meHSoor kar kay naaz karay
meraa Qalam naheeN kaasah kisi subuk-sar kaa
jo GhaaSibooN ko QaSeedooN say sarfaraz karay
meraa Qalam naheeN auzaar us naQab-zan kaa
jo apnay ghar ki hi chat meN shigaaf Daaltaa hai
meraa Qalam naheeN us duzd-e neem shab kaa rafeeQ
jo bay charaaGh gharooN par kamaNd uchaaltaa hai
meraa Qalam naheeN meezaan aisay Aadil ki
jo apnay chehray peh dohraa niQaab rakhtaa hai
meraa Qalam naheeN tasbeeH us mubballiGh ki
jo bandagi kaa bhi har dam Hisaab rakhtaa hai
meraa Qalam to amaanat hai meray logooN ki
meraa Qalam to adaalat meray zameer ki hai
isi liyay to jo likhaa tapaak-e jaaN say likhaa
jabhi to loch kamaaN kaa, zubaan teer ki hai
so,
maiN kaT girooN keh salaamat rahooN, yaQeeN hai mujhay
keh yeh HiSaar-e sitam koie to giraa'ay gaa!
tamaam umr ki eezaa naSib'iyooN ki Qasam
meray Qalam kaa safar raa'egaaN nah jaa'ay gaa!
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Kashmir: Inside Story (Aljazeera video)
Part II (Wherein Ahmed Qureshi makes a goddamned fool of himself):
P.S. WTF Aljazeera? couldn't you find ANYONE else aside from this frucking clown? WTF!
Friday, August 22, 2008
East Pakistan Vs. Punjab (Parallels?)
Reading "War and Secession: Pakistan, India and the Creation of Bangladesh", and finding alarming and disturbing similarities in the way things unfolded in the east. The reactions (and obstinacy) of Mujib seem eerily similar to how Nawaz Sharif is steering the ship currently.
To understand Zardari's attitude better (ie; what "bibi taught him") look at this quote in that book, this is Zulfikar Bhutto speaking to an Italian writer Oriana Fallaci:
To understand Zardari's attitude better (ie; what "bibi taught him") look at this quote in that book, this is Zulfikar Bhutto speaking to an Italian writer Oriana Fallaci:
Politics is movement per se--a politician should be mobile. He should sway now to right and now to left; he should come up with contradictions, doubts. He should change continually, test things, attack from every side so as to single out his opponent's weak point and strike at it. Woe to him if he focuses immediately on his basic concept, woe if he reveals and crystallizes it. Woe if he blocks the maneuver by which to throw hi opponent on the carpet. Apparent inconsistency is the prime virtue of the intelligent man and the astute politician.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
"After Musharraf" (On Point with Tom Ashbrook)
A Podcast titled "After Musharraf" (One of the guests is Adil Najam of Pakistaniat.com fame)
Photo Courtesy: Onpoint Radio.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Welcome to Bizzarro World of BBC
BBC NEWS | South Asia | Musharraf resigns: Pakistanis react
Yes, and 5 out of 6 "Random" pakistani participants in their "random survey" just happen to seem to give mushy a handjob on his way out. Thanks BBC! I remember now why you are a bunch of manipulatin' FUCKNUTS!
Oh and a BIG FUCK YOU to all y'all! We kicked your boy out anyway! and We're going to frustrate your fucking designs.
You betta check yoself, befo you wreck yo'self! BIOTCH!
P.S. I gots one word for ya: GEORGIA!
Yes, and 5 out of 6 "Random" pakistani participants in their "random survey" just happen to seem to give mushy a handjob on his way out. Thanks BBC! I remember now why you are a bunch of manipulatin' FUCKNUTS!
Oh and a BIG FUCK YOU to all y'all! We kicked your boy out anyway! and We're going to frustrate your fucking designs.
You betta check yoself, befo you wreck yo'self! BIOTCH!
P.S. I gots one word for ya: GEORGIA!
Monday, August 18, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Long March Deniers: Look Aginn!!!
Millions of unarmed Kashmiris are marching peacefully to assert their basic human rights against the obscene and inhuman policy of the Indian government and the Hindu fanatics (just as bad as - rather worse than - the Muslim fanatics AFAIAC!)
And all this is a direct consequence of the Lawyers struggle in Pakistan and the historic long march! Look at the faces of these people. They are young men. They are risen with a new vigor.
None can stop them.
The best is yet to come, you little 'instant gratification' babies!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Musharraf ignores advice to bow out -DAWN - Top Stories; August 17, 2008
Musharraf ignores advice to bow out -DAWN - Top Stories; August 17, 2008
I knew this was going to happen as soon as every fucking asshole started to parrot the goddamned "48 hour" line.
What. In. the. Fuck. Is. It. With. These. 48hr. Deadliners. ???
This must be the forty fucking eighth time that at least one of these idiots has claimed with authority that this dickface is going to resign 'within 48 hours'.
Next time, when you hear one of these idiots repeat the 48 hour lines.. just change the channel?
I knew this was going to happen as soon as every fucking asshole started to parrot the goddamned "48 hour" line.
What. In. the. Fuck. Is. It. With. These. 48hr. Deadliners. ???
This must be the forty fucking eighth time that at least one of these idiots has claimed with authority that this dickface is going to resign 'within 48 hours'.
Next time, when you hear one of these idiots repeat the 48 hour lines.. just change the channel?
Friday, August 15, 2008
How the ChooBoys (think they) will Punish Russia ?
By manipulating the price of oil of course. But the thing is, the situation is quickly slipping out of their hands.
The Whore of Babylon may rise yet again!!! BICHIZZ!
MSN MONEY ANALYST: OIL COULD PLUNGE TO $65 A BARREL...AND HERE I WAS THINKING $50 WAS A�FANTASY... - Great Comebacks & Heartfelt Ramblings - Jollyjo
The Whore of Babylon may rise yet again!!! BICHIZZ!
MSN MONEY ANALYST: OIL COULD PLUNGE TO $65 A BARREL...AND HERE I WAS THINKING $50 WAS A�FANTASY... - Great Comebacks & Heartfelt Ramblings - Jollyjo
Not only is this fucked up, it is very very fucked up!
Being denied free hand in the caucuses and the flow of Caspian oil means one thing:
The oil is going to take the path of least resistance, and that, my friends is theVaakhan Afghanistan,FATA -OR- Balochistan,Karachi corridor.
mark my words.
Ref: Georgia: A Blow to U.S. Energy
The oil is going to take the path of least resistance, and that, my friends is the
mark my words.
Ref: Georgia: A Blow to U.S. Energy
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Why Musharraf MUST NOT BE ALLOWED to leave.
He knows a lot of state secrets and he MUST NOT be allowed to leave. If he is forgiven or even given a slap on the wrist, he MUST be kept in protective custody. Otherwise, who knows, he might sell the location of our nuclear assets to our enemies so they can 'extract' them as they please.
NO SAFE PASSAGE FOR MUSHARRAF!
I hope the idiots in our 'coalition' realize his importance as a key source for intelligence against the Pakistani state. And if anyone thinks he will not do it, they got another think comin'.
NO SAFE PASSAGE FOR MUSHARRAF!
I hope the idiots in our 'coalition' realize his importance as a key source for intelligence against the Pakistani state. And if anyone thinks he will not do it, they got another think comin'.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Ethno-Fascists show their true colors
"One must not leave a friend alone in an hour of need"
A friend in need, is a friend indeed. Now we know what this "Qaumi" movement stands for and for what "Qaum". Obviously it is not the Pakistani Qaum that they're referring to in that name.
Ref: http://www.jang.com.pk/jang/aug2008-daily/12-08-2008/up120.gif
UPDATE: So they abstained in the final showdown along with the Amin Fahim sympathizers. But it was only after Americans and the Army made a tactical retreat from supporting musharraf. (The new darling is Kayani, don't believe me? look at the lead story by flapper-mouth kamran-khan on his aug-14-2008 show.)
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Fare Well Mahmoud Darwish (and Edward Said)
Edward Said: A Contrapuntal Reading
(In a poem published in Arabi, Mahmoud Darwish bids Edward Said farewell)
------------------
New York/ November/ Fifth Avenue
The sun a plate of shredded metal
I asked myself, estranged in the shadow:
Is it Babel or Sodom?
***
There, on the doorstep of an electric abyss,
high as the sky, I met Edward,
thirty years ago,
time was less wild then...
We both said:
If the past is only an experience,
make of the future a meaning and a vision.
Let us go,
Let us go into tomorrow trusting
the candor of imagination and the miracle of grass/
***
I don't recall going together to the cinema
in the evening. Still I heard Ancient
Indians calling: Trust
neither horse, nor modernity
***
No. Victims do not ask their executioner:
Am I you? Had my sword been
bigger than my rose, would you
have asked
if I would have acted like you?
***
A question like that entices the curiosity
of a novelist,
sitting in a glass office, overlooking
lilies in the garden, where
the hand
of a hypothesis is as clear as
the conscience
of a novelist set to settle accounts
with
human instinct... There is no tomorrow
in yesterday, so let us advance/
***
Advancing could be a bridge
leading back
to Barbarism...
***
New York. Edward wakes up to
a lazy dawn. He plays
Mozart.
Runs round the university's tennis
court.
Thinks of the journey of ideas across
borders,
and over barriers. He reads the New York Times.
Writes out his furious comments. Curses an Orientalist
guiding the General to the weak point
inside the heart of an Oriental woman.
He showers. Chooses his elegant suit.
Drinks his white coffee. Shouts at the dawn:
Do not loiter.
***
On wind he walks, and in wind
he knows himself. There is no ceiling for the wind,
no home for the wind. Wind is the compass
of the stranger's North.
He says: I am from there, I am from here,
but I am neither there nor here.
I have two names which meet and part...
I have two languages, but I have long forgotten
which is the language of my dreams.
I have an English language, for writing,
with yielding phrases,
and a language in which Heaven and
Jerusalem converse, with a silver cadence,
but it does not yield to my imagination.
***
What about identity? I asked.
He said: It's self-defence...
Identity is the child of birth, but
at the end, it's self-invention, and not
an inheritance of the past. I am multiple...
Within me an ever new exterior. And
I belong to the question of the victim. Were I not
from there, I would have trained my heart
to nurture there deers of metaphor...
So carry your homeland wherever you go, and be
a narcissist if need be/
The outside world is exile,
exile is the world inside.
And what are you between the two?
***
Myself, I do not know
so that I shall not lose it. I am what I am.
I am my other, a duality
gaining resonance in between speech and gesture.
Were I to write poetry I would have said:
I am two in one,
like the wings of a swallow ,
content with bringing good omen
when spring is late.
***
He loves a country and he leaves.
[Is the impossible far off?]
He loves leaving to things unknown.
By traveling freely across cultures
those in search of the human essence
may find a space for all to sit...
Here a margin advances. Or a centre
retreats. Where East is not strictly east,
and West is not strictly west,
where identity is open onto plurality,
not a fort or a trench/
***
Metonymy was sleeping on the river's bank;
had it not been for the pollution
it could have embraced the other bank.
***
- Have you written any novels?
I tried... I tried to retrieve
my image from mirrors of distant women.
But they scampered off into their guarded night.
Saying: Our world is independent of any text.
A man cannot write a woman who is both enigma and dream.
A woman cannot write a man who is both symbol and star.
There are no two loves alike. No two nights
alike. So let us enumerate men's qualities
and laugh.
- And what did you do?
I laughed at my nonsense
and threw the novel
into the wastepaper basket/
***
The intellectual harnesses what the novelist can tell
and the philosopher interprets the bard's roses/
***
He loves a country and he leaves:
I am what I am and shall be.
I shall choose my place by myself,
and choose my exile. My exile, the backdrop
to an epic scene. I defend
the poet's need for memories and tomorrow,
I defend country and exile
in tree-clad birds,
and a moon, generous enough
to allow the writing of a love poem;
I defend an idea shattered by the frailty
of its partisans
and defend a country hijacked by myths/
***
- Will you be able to return to anything?
My ahead pulls what's behind and hastens...
There is no time left in my watch for me to scribble lines
on the sand. I can, however, visit yesterday
as strangers do when they listen
on a sad evening to a Pastorale:
"A girl by the spring filling her jar
"With clouds' tears,
"Weeping and laughing as a bee
"Stings her heart...
"Is it love that makes the water ache
"Or some sickness in the mist..."
[until the end of the song].
***
- So, nostalgia can hit you?
Nostalgia for a higher, more distant tomorrow,
far more distant. My dream leads my steps.
And my vision places my dream
on my knees
like a pet cat. It's the imaginary real,
the child of will: We can
change the inevitability of the abyss.
***
- And nostalgia for yesterday?
A sentiment not fit for an intellectual, unless
it is used to spell out the stranger's fervour
for that which negates him.
My nostalgia is a struggle
over a present which has tomorrow
by the balls.
***
- Did you not sneak into yesterday when
you went to that house, your house
in Talbiya, in Jerusalem?
I prepared myself to sleep
in my mother's bed, like a child
who's scared of his father. I tried
to recall my birth, and
to watch the Milky Way from the roof of my old
house. I tried to stroke the skin
of absence and the smell of summer
in the garden's jasmine. But the hyena that is truth
drove me away from a thief-like
nostalgia.
- Were you afraid? What frightened you?
I could not meet loss face
to face. I stood by the door like a beggar.
How could I ask permission from strangers sleeping
in my own bed... Ask them if I could visit myself
for five minutes? Should I bow in respect
to the residents of my childish dream? Would they ask:
Who is that prying foreign visitor? And how
could I talk about war and peace
among the victims and the victims' victims,
without additions, without an interjection?
And would they tell me: There is no place for two dreams
in one bedroom?
***
It is neither me nor him
who asks; it is a reader asking:
What can poetry say in a time of catastrophe?
***
Blood
and blood,
blood
in your country,
in my name and in yours, in
the almond flower, in the banana skin,
in the baby's milk, in light and shadow,
in the grain of wheat, in salt/
***
Adept snipers, hitting their target
with maximum proficiency.
Blood and blood
and blood.
This land is smaller than the blood of its children
standing on the threshold of doomsday like
sacrificial offerings. Is this land truly
blessed, or is it baptised
in blood
and blood
and blood
which neither prayer, nor sand can dry.
There is not enough justice in the Sacred Book
to make martyrs rejoice in their freedom
to walk on cloud. Blood in daylight,
blood in darkness. Blood in speech.
***
He says: The poem could host
loss, a thread of light shining
at the heart of a guitar; or a Christ
on a horse pierced through with beautiful metaphors. For
the aesthetic is but the presence of the real
in form/
In a world without a sky, the earth
becomes an abyss. The poem,
a consolation, an attribute
of the wind, southern or northern.
Do not describe what the camera can see
of your wounds. And scream that you may hear yourself,
and scream that you may know you're still alive,
and alive, and that life on this earth is
possible. Invent a hope for speech,
invent a direction, a mirage to extend hope.
And sing, for the aesthetic is freedom/
***
I say: The life which cannot be defined
except by death is not a life.
***
He says: We shall live.
So let us be masters of words which
make their readers immortal -- as your friend
Ritsos said.
***
He also said: If I die before you,
my will is the impossible.
I asked: Is the impossible far off?
He said: A generation away.
I asked: And if I die before you?
He said: I shall pay my condolences to Mount Galilee,
and write, "The aesthetic is to reach
poise." And now, don't forget:
If I die before you, my will is the impossible.
***
When I last visited him in New Sodom,
in the year Two Thousand and Two, he was battling off
the war of Sodom on the people of Babel...
and cancer. He was like the last epic hero
defending the right of Troy
to share the narrative.
***
An eagle soaring higher and higher
bidding farewell to his height,
for dwelling on Olympus
and over heights
is tiresome.
***
Farewell,
farewell poetry of pain.
(In a poem published in Arabi, Mahmoud Darwish bids Edward Said farewell)
New York/ November/ Fifth Avenue
The sun a plate of shredded metal
I asked myself, estranged in the shadow:
Is it Babel or Sodom?
***
There, on the doorstep of an electric abyss,
high as the sky, I met Edward,
thirty years ago,
time was less wild then...
We both said:
If the past is only an experience,
make of the future a meaning and a vision.
Let us go,
Let us go into tomorrow trusting
the candor of imagination and the miracle of grass/
***
I don't recall going together to the cinema
in the evening. Still I heard Ancient
Indians calling: Trust
neither horse, nor modernity
***
No. Victims do not ask their executioner:
Am I you? Had my sword been
bigger than my rose, would you
have asked
if I would have acted like you?
***
A question like that entices the curiosity
of a novelist,
sitting in a glass office, overlooking
lilies in the garden, where
the hand
of a hypothesis is as clear as
the conscience
of a novelist set to settle accounts
with
human instinct... There is no tomorrow
in yesterday, so let us advance/
***
Advancing could be a bridge
leading back
to Barbarism...
***
New York. Edward wakes up to
a lazy dawn. He plays
Mozart.
Runs round the university's tennis
court.
Thinks of the journey of ideas across
borders,
and over barriers. He reads the New York Times.
Writes out his furious comments. Curses an Orientalist
guiding the General to the weak point
inside the heart of an Oriental woman.
He showers. Chooses his elegant suit.
Drinks his white coffee. Shouts at the dawn:
Do not loiter.
***
On wind he walks, and in wind
he knows himself. There is no ceiling for the wind,
no home for the wind. Wind is the compass
of the stranger's North.
He says: I am from there, I am from here,
but I am neither there nor here.
I have two names which meet and part...
I have two languages, but I have long forgotten
which is the language of my dreams.
I have an English language, for writing,
with yielding phrases,
and a language in which Heaven and
Jerusalem converse, with a silver cadence,
but it does not yield to my imagination.
***
What about identity? I asked.
He said: It's self-defence...
Identity is the child of birth, but
at the end, it's self-invention, and not
an inheritance of the past. I am multiple...
Within me an ever new exterior. And
I belong to the question of the victim. Were I not
from there, I would have trained my heart
to nurture there deers of metaphor...
So carry your homeland wherever you go, and be
a narcissist if need be/
The outside world is exile,
exile is the world inside.
And what are you between the two?
***
Myself, I do not know
so that I shall not lose it. I am what I am.
I am my other, a duality
gaining resonance in between speech and gesture.
Were I to write poetry I would have said:
I am two in one,
like the wings of a swallow ,
content with bringing good omen
when spring is late.
***
He loves a country and he leaves.
[Is the impossible far off?]
He loves leaving to things unknown.
By traveling freely across cultures
those in search of the human essence
may find a space for all to sit...
Here a margin advances. Or a centre
retreats. Where East is not strictly east,
and West is not strictly west,
where identity is open onto plurality,
not a fort or a trench/
***
Metonymy was sleeping on the river's bank;
had it not been for the pollution
it could have embraced the other bank.
***
- Have you written any novels?
I tried... I tried to retrieve
my image from mirrors of distant women.
But they scampered off into their guarded night.
Saying: Our world is independent of any text.
A man cannot write a woman who is both enigma and dream.
A woman cannot write a man who is both symbol and star.
There are no two loves alike. No two nights
alike. So let us enumerate men's qualities
and laugh.
- And what did you do?
I laughed at my nonsense
and threw the novel
into the wastepaper basket/
***
The intellectual harnesses what the novelist can tell
and the philosopher interprets the bard's roses/
***
He loves a country and he leaves:
I am what I am and shall be.
I shall choose my place by myself,
and choose my exile. My exile, the backdrop
to an epic scene. I defend
the poet's need for memories and tomorrow,
I defend country and exile
in tree-clad birds,
and a moon, generous enough
to allow the writing of a love poem;
I defend an idea shattered by the frailty
of its partisans
and defend a country hijacked by myths/
***
- Will you be able to return to anything?
My ahead pulls what's behind and hastens...
There is no time left in my watch for me to scribble lines
on the sand. I can, however, visit yesterday
as strangers do when they listen
on a sad evening to a Pastorale:
"A girl by the spring filling her jar
"With clouds' tears,
"Weeping and laughing as a bee
"Stings her heart...
"Is it love that makes the water ache
"Or some sickness in the mist..."
[until the end of the song].
***
- So, nostalgia can hit you?
Nostalgia for a higher, more distant tomorrow,
far more distant. My dream leads my steps.
And my vision places my dream
on my knees
like a pet cat. It's the imaginary real,
the child of will: We can
change the inevitability of the abyss.
***
- And nostalgia for yesterday?
A sentiment not fit for an intellectual, unless
it is used to spell out the stranger's fervour
for that which negates him.
My nostalgia is a struggle
over a present which has tomorrow
by the balls.
***
- Did you not sneak into yesterday when
you went to that house, your house
in Talbiya, in Jerusalem?
I prepared myself to sleep
in my mother's bed, like a child
who's scared of his father. I tried
to recall my birth, and
to watch the Milky Way from the roof of my old
house. I tried to stroke the skin
of absence and the smell of summer
in the garden's jasmine. But the hyena that is truth
drove me away from a thief-like
nostalgia.
- Were you afraid? What frightened you?
I could not meet loss face
to face. I stood by the door like a beggar.
How could I ask permission from strangers sleeping
in my own bed... Ask them if I could visit myself
for five minutes? Should I bow in respect
to the residents of my childish dream? Would they ask:
Who is that prying foreign visitor? And how
could I talk about war and peace
among the victims and the victims' victims,
without additions, without an interjection?
And would they tell me: There is no place for two dreams
in one bedroom?
***
It is neither me nor him
who asks; it is a reader asking:
What can poetry say in a time of catastrophe?
***
Blood
and blood,
blood
in your country,
in my name and in yours, in
the almond flower, in the banana skin,
in the baby's milk, in light and shadow,
in the grain of wheat, in salt/
***
Adept snipers, hitting their target
with maximum proficiency.
Blood and blood
and blood.
This land is smaller than the blood of its children
standing on the threshold of doomsday like
sacrificial offerings. Is this land truly
blessed, or is it baptised
in blood
and blood
and blood
which neither prayer, nor sand can dry.
There is not enough justice in the Sacred Book
to make martyrs rejoice in their freedom
to walk on cloud. Blood in daylight,
blood in darkness. Blood in speech.
***
He says: The poem could host
loss, a thread of light shining
at the heart of a guitar; or a Christ
on a horse pierced through with beautiful metaphors. For
the aesthetic is but the presence of the real
in form/
In a world without a sky, the earth
becomes an abyss. The poem,
a consolation, an attribute
of the wind, southern or northern.
Do not describe what the camera can see
of your wounds. And scream that you may hear yourself,
and scream that you may know you're still alive,
and alive, and that life on this earth is
possible. Invent a hope for speech,
invent a direction, a mirage to extend hope.
And sing, for the aesthetic is freedom/
***
I say: The life which cannot be defined
except by death is not a life.
***
He says: We shall live.
So let us be masters of words which
make their readers immortal -- as your friend
Ritsos said.
***
He also said: If I die before you,
my will is the impossible.
I asked: Is the impossible far off?
He said: A generation away.
I asked: And if I die before you?
He said: I shall pay my condolences to Mount Galilee,
and write, "The aesthetic is to reach
poise." And now, don't forget:
If I die before you, my will is the impossible.
***
When I last visited him in New Sodom,
in the year Two Thousand and Two, he was battling off
the war of Sodom on the people of Babel...
and cancer. He was like the last epic hero
defending the right of Troy
to share the narrative.
***
An eagle soaring higher and higher
bidding farewell to his height,
for dwelling on Olympus
and over heights
is tiresome.
***
Farewell,
farewell poetry of pain.
Dear Georgia, The "Sixth Fleet" is on its way!
Time for America's new bitches to learn a lesson from the old whore on the block:
America will NEVER help you in your hour of need, even though you whore yourselves to them for generations.
*
“What the Russians just did is, for the first time since the fall of the Soviet Union, they have taken a decisive military action and imposed a military reality,” said George Friedman, chief executive of Stratfor, a geopolitical analysis and intelligence company. “They’ve done it unilaterally, and all of the countries that have been looking to the West to intimidate the Russians are now forced into a position to consider what just happened.”
And Bush administration officials acknowledged that the outside world, and the United States in particular, had little leverage over Russian actions.
“There is no possibility of drawing NATO or the international community into this,” said a senior State Department official in a conference call with reporters.
That, I suppose, is "The Way of the World" as it were.
*NYT: Membership maybe required
Saturday, August 9, 2008
FUCK YOU "Telegraph" !!!!
Analysis: President Pervez Musharraf's last gasp shows how West has failed - Telegraph:
And the douchebag goes on to chide the Army Chief for "staying neutral" further confirming my suspicions that Europe only understands the language of a FOOT firmly planted in it's rear. Everything and everyone else they use as a disposable mean to their own god-damned fucked up ends.
the "kicker":
"Last year, Mr Musharraf embarked on a series of hubris-driven, auto- destructive blunders that included sacking the chief justice and imposing a state of emergency.
The deal's other chief protagonist, Benazir Bhutto, was assassinated, as was widely predicted would happen, in December. Since then Mr Musharraf and Ms Bhutto's distrusted and discredited widower and political successor, Asif Zardari, have failed to reach agreement on how to govern."
And the douchebag goes on to chide the Army Chief for "staying neutral" further confirming my suspicions that Europe only understands the language of a FOOT firmly planted in it's rear. Everything and everyone else they use as a disposable mean to their own god-damned fucked up ends.
the "kicker":
The focus is now on the chief of army staff, General Ashfaq Kayani, who has made the well-intentioned, but perhaps ill-fated, statement that he will keep the army out of politics.
This is what happens when you get used to beating up unarmed civilians.
8 Policemen were slaughtered in FATA. The Taliban threatened to attack them with a suicide bomber (who was apparently with the attacking party) so the policmen promptly gave themselves up.
The taliban shot them all in the head. returned bodies to the relatives.
What I fail to understand is, how exactly the fuck do you threaten a police force of 8 ppl with a suicide bomber? Does our police know ANY FUCKING THING aside from raping rape victims, killing unarmed burglers in 'encounters' and beating up unarmed citizens asking for democratic rights?
This is the Pakistani state? drop their arms at the first indication of a whiff of power by the criminals? (which I think these beardo's are).
Thank you Musharraf and the callous, apathetic, GREEDy elite of hte Paki army for bringing us to this.
You really protected the physical and ideological frontiers of Pakistan. YOU GODDAMNED INCOMPETENT, MEDDLING, DUMB COCKSUCKING MOTHERFUCKERS. I hope your fat daughters have to whore themselves on the streets of Islamabad and Lahore and Karachi like the daughters of Iraqi "establishment" now have to do.
YOU FUCKING COWARDS! YOU SOLD OUR DREAM!
The taliban shot them all in the head. returned bodies to the relatives.
What I fail to understand is, how exactly the fuck do you threaten a police force of 8 ppl with a suicide bomber? Does our police know ANY FUCKING THING aside from raping rape victims, killing unarmed burglers in 'encounters' and beating up unarmed citizens asking for democratic rights?
This is the Pakistani state? drop their arms at the first indication of a whiff of power by the criminals? (which I think these beardo's are).
Thank you Musharraf and the callous, apathetic, GREEDy elite of hte Paki army for bringing us to this.
You really protected the physical and ideological frontiers of Pakistan. YOU GODDAMNED INCOMPETENT, MEDDLING, DUMB COCKSUCKING MOTHERFUCKERS. I hope your fat daughters have to whore themselves on the streets of Islamabad and Lahore and Karachi like the daughters of Iraqi "establishment" now have to do.
YOU FUCKING COWARDS! YOU SOLD OUR DREAM!
"Citizens" (aka "LaunDa's") install checkposts in Karachi.
Islamo-Fascists, BAD.
Ethno-Fascists, GOOD?
So, let me get this straight. When the "beardo's" set up checkpoints in the tribal areas, they are challenging the 'writ of the state' but when ethno-chauvanist-supremacists do the VERY SAME, they are "concerned citizens" ???
WTF? Where is Pakistan Army now?
Ethno-Fascists, GOOD?
So, let me get this straight. When the "beardo's" set up checkpoints in the tribal areas, they are challenging the 'writ of the state' but when ethno-chauvanist-supremacists do the VERY SAME, they are "concerned citizens" ???
WTF? Where is Pakistan Army now?
Friday, August 8, 2008
Impeachment? woohoo? Not so fast!
I don't know why Asif Zardari was trying to sound like a horrible copy of a discovery channel narrator in his bad English and all...
But I wouldn't get too excited about this 'muaakhaza' thing. I'm with Aitezaz on this, and not only that, this will probably mean that Zardari plus Musharraf camp will innoculate against Musharraf leaving and they will neutralize Nawaz Sharif in the process too.
maiN naa manooN kiraaRi kaa naam Ghulaam Fatima.
I'll believe it when Musharraf's ass is on the street. Until then, Mr. Zardari is on the 'watch list' as it were.
But I wouldn't get too excited about this 'muaakhaza' thing. I'm with Aitezaz on this, and not only that, this will probably mean that Zardari plus Musharraf camp will innoculate against Musharraf leaving and they will neutralize Nawaz Sharif in the process too.
maiN naa manooN kiraaRi kaa naam Ghulaam Fatima.
I'll believe it when Musharraf's ass is on the street. Until then, Mr. Zardari is on the 'watch list' as it were.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Hey Dharna crowd! ARE YOU LISSENNING????
Well, the "chore" commander meeting is underway. There might be another coup against the democracy.
Where the fuck are all you goddamned bitches who wanted to storm the parliament at the end of a historic, peaceful march for upholding the rule of law ????
You wanted action right? Well the action is here. The Triple Vulture brigade is getting ready to FUCK YOU IN THE ASS one more time. Are you bay-ghairat a$$holes ready to defend your honor and defend democracy with your lives and give at least token resistance to the fucking vultures?
Don't bother making up a lame excuse for your shameless existence!
I already know the answer, YOU FUCKING COWARDS!
Bravo A$$HOLES!
another Muthlim nation become's Europe's BITCH!
In the name of national security and BULL FUCKING SHIT of course.
Another Muslim military, sells its mother fucking mother out to the foreigner. Oh, and the democracy loving Europe, feigning ignorance is threatening to reduce aid. Oh Wow! Europe! You're so fucking innocent aren't you?
In the name of national security and BULL FUCKING SHIT of course.
Another Muslim military, sells its mother fucking mother out to the foreigner. Oh, and the democracy loving Europe, feigning ignorance is threatening to reduce aid. Oh Wow! Europe! You're so fucking innocent aren't you?
Fucking Awesome!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
The growing list of ambassadors at-large
The growing list of ambassadors at-large
And btw, who is this Hamid Kidwai? Any relations to Mr. Khalid Kidwai? the guy incharge of (and incidentally aware of the locations of) Pakistan's nukes?
I guess they would have called me cray-zee in 1982 had I told some NITWITS that Serbs seemed to be in control of all the important strategic civil/military positions in the "Hunky Dory People's Republic of Yugoslavia" ??
Till recently, there was only one ambassador at-large, Sharifuddin Pirzada, who was appointed more than a decade ago and still continuing, but after the commencement of the present regime, the number of such appointees has reached 10. This category of appointment has become a kind of new tier in the Foreign Office.This explains why Javed Malik was acting like such a goddamned spineless grovel-boy when it came to Zardari and PPP's point of view. All his programs contained defense of PPP positions. Obviously, my concerns on this count were dismissed by god-damned fuck-nut mental midgets who can't tell their fucking faces from their asses, but find it suitable to opine on every goddamned well considered opinion presented on a public forum.
Besides Pirzada, ambassadors at-large, include Khalil Ahmad, who is also chairman of the Task Force on Recruitment, Kareem Khan Agha, Salman Farooqi, who is also deputy chairman Planning Commission; Hussain Haqqani, who is currently serving as Pakistan's ambassador to the US; Nasir Ali Khan, Hamid A Kidwai, Zia Isphahani, Dr Akbar Khwaja, and Anchor Javed Malik of the ARY Television.
And btw, who is this Hamid Kidwai? Any relations to Mr. Khalid Kidwai? the guy incharge of (and incidentally aware of the locations of) Pakistan's nukes?
I guess they would have called me cray-zee in 1982 had I told some NITWITS that Serbs seemed to be in control of all the important strategic civil/military positions in the "Hunky Dory People's Republic of Yugoslavia" ??
Sunday, August 3, 2008
We're doomed!
I think out of all the "anchor"/"Journalists" in the new fucking media Javed "Choad"ry is quite possibly the MOST STUPID, IDIOTIC, ULLU-KA-PATTHA, IMBECILE!!! that I have EVER seen on the fucking TV.
Like Butthead said, Just look at this guy, in the latest interview with Hamid Gul, this GOAT-BRAIN just DOES NOT FUCKING GET IT!
Listen for yourself. (if you know where to look)
Friday, August 1, 2008
Washington disappointed by new face of Pak democracy
Washington disappointed by new face of Pak democracy (By Shaheen Sehbai)
some excerpts:
Indeed I'm wondering too as to who exactly forced this visit on him? My guess? Zardari and his idiot friends. And who did all the "torpedoeing" ?? Zardari and his friends. And who engineered the ISI humiliation? .... Zardari and his friends.
The three main characters along with a coeterie of musharraffites was: Zardari, Haqqani and Malik.
some excerpts:
What they found lacking was the depth of understanding and vision in dealing with complex international and security issues, articulation to comprehend and project Pakistani policies in a clear and candid way, more so on public places than in closed door meetings. They did not find the will and the capacity in the prime minister to grasp the importance of issues, take control of matters and make decisions which he could sustain.
The one issue which damaged Gilani’s credibility as a potentially serious leader and policy-maker was the brutally botched up ISI fiasco. Whoever did this to Gilani actually torpedoed his US visit, which turned into a non-starter the moment the ISI notification was withdrawn. It was beyond Gilani to stand by his order for more than a few hours and Washingtonians got the message that they were dealing with a non-entity and should not take him seriously.
On top of this image, the prime minister personally did not do anything to help himself. Whenever Gilani read from a written script, he was coherent, articulate and looked like a man who knew what he was talking about. But the moment the script was over and he had to answer questions, the level of discourse and understanding came crashing down to earth. The contrast was so stark and embarrassing it discounted both the images Gilani presented and made him look like artificial and someone who was being remote-controlled.
Washington was not ready for such a visit and whoever forced it on Gilani did a great disservice to the man, to the party he represents and to Pakistan’s infant democracy. At a time of great internal political, administrative, security, economic and social turmoil, packing him off to Washington as a showpiece, so early in office, could at best be described as a deep conspiracy of sorts.
Indeed I'm wondering too as to who exactly forced this visit on him? My guess? Zardari and his idiot friends. And who did all the "torpedoeing" ?? Zardari and his friends. And who engineered the ISI humiliation? .... Zardari and his friends.
The three main characters along with a coeterie of musharraffites was: Zardari, Haqqani and Malik.
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