Tuesday 1 July 2008

Time to get serious

I know I should probably wait a while till I post this, let the hype cool down with the whole Cool Kids thing (pun not intended but kept in), but what I'm about to share is so serious and demands your attention I think that people like Missy La and Vezzy and anyone else with an interest in the real world, not the one where you judge people on how hypebeast they are, will appreciate and it may even interest people who have no clue.

I've known about this Photojournalist for a while he goes by the name of Zoriah (beautiful name). He has been all over the world - Palestine/Iraq/Afghanistan/Kuwait and many more dangerous countries - too many to list.

Award- winning independent Photojournalist Zoriah is currently on tour in Iraq accompanying the US army on patrol. On the 26th June whilst on patrol he stumbled across the aftermath of a suicide bombing. I will not be posting any of the graphic pictures as I think most be will be offended and most would find difficult to look through and if you are really interested you will visit his website below.

He brings an uncomfortable beauty to his work without taking away any of the severity or the reality of it. And I bet all those 'photographers' out there will realise what photography is.

I do hope you all become fans and make a donation as we need independent photojournalist like him.

Please visit http://www.zoriah.com/ and http://www.zoriah.net/

And the rest of the pictures and blog from the suicide bombings:

http://www.zoriah.net/blog/suicide-bombing-in-anbar-.html?cid=120741122#comments

Truly peace in the Middle East

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

i just went on it, it is horrofic. it makes you appreciate the fact that we don't have that happening here.
may the innocent dead rest in peace, & zoriah soldier on to show us what's happening out there in the REAL world.

Secretista said...

That's scary.

Anonymous said...

reality! spread the word!

Anonymous said...

hey slobhead i thought id just post this as a message.
i thought u may find it interesting








Zorro’s Mark
Every morning I wake up to that loud sound
and it rings in my ears till night
till the moon glows and the echoes fade away
Then the sun shines into my window
the glare burns my eyes
and a new day is here.
I face it
over and over again
Wake up my dear, dear son
deal with another day
though the fear never fades away
it’s in your eyes

Can I protect you today?
Can I be your human shield?
that sound screams NO
No I cannot
(cannot cannot cannot)
My weakness repeats in my mind
and though it’s us against the world
I tell him that I can

So wake up my child
and if I walk you to school
I know you are safe for the next few steps

A step
so precious
as you hold on
to my hands and
I sort of protect you
from things that are just
completely out of my control

It’s all about control anyways
It reflects in your eyes
you rip me apart for the control
as your bombs drop on my land
MY LAND
It is not yours to take
but you control me like a puppet anyways
every step
every breathe
every move
is with the fear that rots within me
fear for my family
fear for my friends
fear for my Falasteen.

Palestine? you call it by your own name
it’s FALASTEEN
It is not your land
not your land to rename
Smug with pride you take my land
make it your own
and pronounce it like a child that can’t say all his letters properly
Damn child
plays with his toys
tiny soldiers and GI Joes
He gets his lego blocks
and builds a

W A L L W A L L W
A A
L I’m trapped L
L L
W A L L W A L L

Lego blocks made of concrete

Tell me…
When I was a kid and Elishivah and Isaac came over to play
and my Mother poured tea for their Mother
as we swam in the pool
What was wrong with that?

If it ain’t broke—don’t fix it
So it wasn’t broken
but now it is
I have broken down
and no one is here to fix me.
The only thing that remains is
misery in my eyes
because you have drained my pool
and all that remains is emptiness
emptiness caved in by concrete
You took my water
80% of the water from my land
is consumed by you
10% is used as a resource
leaving only
10% left for me
and my son
and my people
and my country…

my country?
I can’t call it mine if I have no rights in it
All I have is a small cup of water
a son to call my life
and a fear that controls it all.

Oh…and a rock
I have a rock that I threw
I threw it at you
when I saw your tank coming my way

So this is the re-mix
you take the track and change it up
kill a few of the people
replace them with someone new
put a 6-sided star on the cover
maybe white and blue
let the beat flow with the bombs
this track is no slow jam
it’s a whole lot of noise
with the lyrics all crammed

Rock the beat
Make the people
fall to your feet

Sing it loud
Now they know
you’re proud

Shake it up
change it around
till they see wassup

But this guy who makes a mess of my track
takes what I love and won’t give it back
sells his album world-wide
rips up the original song that I grew to love
and succeeds because this guy
this guy with his sly words and quick steps
has no competition
Only a fighter fights back
Well honey, this fighter is all out of ammo
All that I have left are the rocks at my feet
so I throw them at you with the remaining energy that exists.

But one day I’ll run out of rocks
and with my bare hands I’ll pick up sand
when it comes time for my baby boy
to raise a family on this land
there will be nothing left for him to call home
just a bare floor, an ounce of water, and his memory of a better time.

So Mr. Soldier of the checkpoint
I want to ask you something
How does it feel to forget what it is to smile?
The angry disgust in your eyes
and the bitter words on your tongue
speak to me as I carry my sweet son
over the checkpoint to walk him to school
How does it feel to know that my 15 minute walk is a two hour show in which I stand in line, hold my passport, and drench myself in fear because I never know what you will do once it’s my turn to face you.
Take a bite of your war food
Take a sip of your poisonous drink
Starbuck’s double shot Macchiato
McDonald’s Chicken McNuggets
Coca-Cola’s one calorie cup

Who knew food could pay for bombs?
they take the money
send it to the soldier
and supply them with armor

So my dear son
as we wait in line for our turn to be interrogated
we are reminded that it is us against the world
because the world is no longer for you and me
it’s for those who have bullets—not rocks

And though we dream of a time that things will get better
we know inside that it won’t
at least not in my lifetime
because power has corrupted
and no one is standing up against it

Because those who have the power now
are the same who were once the powerless
The tables have turned as the victims become the victimizers

those who once cried out of the smoke-chambers and screamed for God’s salvation

those who taught us of the effects of hate

those who told us the stories of violence that ripped lives apart

those who preached of love and looked down on hate

those who witnessed the disgust in the enemies eyes

those who were raped and dragged in the street naked

those who were beaten until no more blood was left to shed

those who starved as the soldiers feasted

those who cried for there mothers as they were separated

those who were ripped apart for there personal beliefs

those who were in the wrong country at the wrong time

those who were told that they do not belong

those are the people who are now taking revenge on the wrong people

They will not tell me why this child was killed
At the age of 7, he stood in front of an army tank
it rolled close to him
threatening to run him over
but this boy had nothing to lose
except this lousy excuse of a life
this huge tank, built of steel and hate
crept upon the boy who picked up the rocks and threw them at the monster
but those men inside of this tank are just as vicious as Hitler

This boy was murdered by a sniper three days later.

What crime has he committed?
Who can take responsibility for his death?
The soldier that murdered him is not responsible for his actions
every move he makes is not an idea that he has compiled
he only fights for Hitler’s agenda

Isaac and Elishivah stopped coming over
They no longer floated in the same pool as me
only 10% of it’s water is left
so I have nowhere to float
and neither does my son

I saw Isaac
one last time
but this time, he was not wearing his bathing suit
He was wearing a uniform
holding a gun
He interrogated me
I need to cross the checkpoint
He has forgotten how to smile
and his mouth reeks of Starbucks

Does he even know who he is working for?
Does he know what cause he is fighting for?
Because the Isaac that I used to know
would never work for a monster

I search within his eyes
for the boy that knew how to smile
but that boy became a man
and that man became the monster

Zorro swept through my town
calm and smooth he took over with his sword
Carved the letter “Z” in my land
but this Zorro changed his plan
He fought me when I had no defense
He did not play his role
He was supposed to tear down the evil government
to help the poor in need
he just sliced in a “Z”
and he took his lead

So these soldiers have this villain
mistaken for a man
he is not the Zorro that we hoped for
he was just Hitler taking over this land
and he did not waste time
he picks up his sword
marks his new-found sand

I gaze into my child’s eyes
tell him it will be alright
fight baby fight
because that’s all we can do
hold on to me tight
don’t let go
because the fear of losing you
is more than I can stand

Oh my love,
I cry when I think of leaving you
in a world filled with anger
where everything is
going downhill

I close my eyes and imagine you and I in our old land
where freedom was our right
and our rights were not ignored
as the glorious sun lights up your face
and the ocean brings in a breeze
I walk with you on the sand
but this place can only exist in my imagination
because it is called Never-againland

And my dear son,
I know that your thirst has grown
you wish to swim the seas of freedom
to have things that I cannot give you
And I will forever try to give you all that I can
Because, in this world of hate and anger
the only thing I have left is you

Today, Zorro got in his tank
and left blood marks on my land
========
//
//
//
//
//
//
z========ionism
My son did not come home.


By Fatemeh Shahangian

Anonymous said...

very nice ousman.

the dumb flyest. said...

crazy. i wrote the feature of him on whoresneverlearn, and didn't even realize you had it too.

just goes to show you ... real art always shines through.

Anonymous said...

i know....it's good though...he said to post it on all / any blogs to spread the word!