Essays, But Not Like Those When You Were A Kid

Various diatribes by an expat in Cairo. One essay a day until I stop. Expect daily expat entries.

[marksmasressays]

Essay 333 - Final Essay

A few images

And two poems from days spent

Writing Masry things

Well dear audience, for the last three hundred and thirty three days I've written some sort of essay every single day, come rain or shine or revolution. I hope that these essays have been a good chronicle of my last year in Egypt, and that some of you learned some new stuff about that country and about whatever random topics I spouted off on. I hope that if you didn't learn anything, you were at least entertained by my wacky and/or goofy writings. Yet it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that this will be the last daily post from Mark's Masr Essays, as I am no longer in Egypt to write essays about that country. Sadly, I must temporarily move on down the road:

I have to admit that while I still feel like a passenger on the subway watching the walls blur together as the train picks up speed, I am ready for a change:

So without further ado, here is a final poem and a brief mention of what's coming next from this intrepid travelloger. Enjoy!

Masr Musing

Land of sand

Place of ancient spaces

Held captive by a past massive

Known for presidents overthrown

And for people defiant not compliant

People proud and loud

Yet sometimes lost by revolution's cost

But so kind as if designed

To be nicer than those human cyphers

We often find in this life's bind

Through turmoil and toil

In happenstance and plain chance

Masr has stood strong and long

With both disciplined citizens

And those prone to groan

At decay and society's disarray

Together through bad weather

When Egypt is gripped by violence

They may live day to day

But hope is not just for dopes

In this sunny lovely country

Of laughter and banter

Although I won't be posting in this blog daily anymore, have no fear dear audience, I shall continue writing daily! I plan to launch Project Denver, something of a self-improvement / detox / creativity blog that I'll be posting to daily sometime soon. Until that project gets going, please send me any questions in the "Ask me..." link about anything on this blog or my upcoming projects, and as always, tahya Masr (long live Egypt)!

MWV 8/19/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 332 - Leaving Masr

With so little sleep

After days with early morns

Travel passes fast

Well dear audience, after five years of living in Masr (Egypt), I've finally made the big move and left to pursue a more financially lucrative career in the Arabian Gulf. My contract ends in two years, but I'm sure I'll be returning to Egypt before then. After all, I spent the entirety of my early-and-mid-twenties in Egypt and thus its people and culture have left numerous indelible impressions on my character. Unfortunately, this impact has made it a rough couple of days for me personally, even as Egypt went through a rough patch of its own. Sadly, many ordinarily reasonable people have gone temporarily fascistic, in the words of their own countrymen. But despite all of the insanity portrayed by local and international media, life did go on as normal in much of the country even as all this violence was going on. And no matter their politics, everyone in Egypt (well, everyone except my Italian countrymen in Sharm El Sheikh) were equally effected by that most intrusive and ominous of civil strife phenomena, the couvre feu (in French) or hathar attagowl (in Arabic) - the curfew. Of course, not everyone obeys such things (like back in 2011):

However, with the curfew ending at 6 am and my flight leaving at 9 am, I needed to really hustle to get to the airport this morning. This was not an easy task, considering my lack of sleep over the last few nights. Even though I prepared pretty well for my trip, the anxiety of Cairo's crisis and of my imminent departure kept my awake. That's not to say I didn't have some nice moments. Last night I spent some time with my mother reading old children's books that my roommate's fiance had brought back from the states:

Anyway, I called a trusted taxi driver to make sure I could get to the airport this morning, and everything actually went miraculously smoothly. The driver arrived a bit after 6:30 am and we took the 6th of October Bridge across Cairo to the airport. I was a little worried as we approached Ramses Square (the area of the most recent clashes that had left hundreds injured or dead) and the traffic began to slow down. Even though it was still early, I wondered what we would find when we got near the square. However, at that hour there was no one about, not even any kind of police or military presence. The traffic was due to the bridge being reduced to one lane by debris left on the highway. We drove slowly past a few burned-out light posts and the twisted remains of some sort of barricade, and then we zoomed off. I made it to the airport without incident, and here I am in Kuwait with all my belongings and sanity mostly intact. My mother leaves Cairo the day after tomorrow, and hopefully she will have just as easy a trip as I did. And to conclude today's essay, I'll paraphrase my taxi driver's thoughts on the current situation:

Everyone's acting crazy, why can't they just live together and disagree? Who cares if they think something different, as long as you can live your life and care for your family. What's the matter with that?

MWV 8/18/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 331 - Three Scenes and Two Sticky-Tack Statues From My Last Day in Cairo

With packing complete

Mental stresses of travel

Rear their ugly heads

This morning I got up early to help my roommate and his fiance move back into our apartment. They arrived yesterday but got stuck at a friend's house overnight due to the closing of the bridges leading to our neighborhood and the latest round of clashes yesterday in Cairo. As a result of my lack of sleep, I was pretty worn-out this whole morning because of my nerves and the stress of my upcoming journey. I did venture outside to my neighborhood once today in order to buy some credit and some gargeer (arugula) for my roommate's fiance. Even though the streets were mostly deserted and many of the shops were shuttered, it seemed pretty normal. However, my nostalgic mood caused me to see some things around my neighborhood in a new light. So for today's essay (and my last entry from Egypt for awhile), here are five things around my neighborhood that I've recreated artistically into three images and two sticky-tack sculptures, along with some commentary. Enjoy!

The Truth Is Right There

I spied this bumper sticker around the corner from my apartment - a dark grey alien pointing at something off the corner of the windshield mischievously. You know things are getting interesting in Cairo when even the aliens think there's something more important that you should be looking at.

Tic Tac Toe

Some graffiti vandal and a friend got bored, and this bank pillar was a good spot to kill some time, I guess.

Religion and Politics

In the main square by my house this large sticker was plastered on the walls of some building. I thought it was odd that this sticker was executed very poorly, bilingually speaking. Perhaps there were translations in both English and Arabic on this sticker, but they must have been too small for me to notice.

Embassy Guard Checking Smartphone

This embassy guard had found himself a reclining roller-chair and a coffee table and decided to take a break outside his guard booth. I came upon him checking his smartphone in his body armor while lounging in the chair like any other twenty-something in the world.

Chicken Cones For Sale

I have seen this contraption several times in my neighborhood, but I still have no idea what this chicken-shaped-cart peddles. All I know is that whatever the food item this cart serves, that food item comes in a cone. Out of a chicken hand-cart.

MWV 8/17/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 330 - Final Packing and This Too Shall Pass

So many items

Do we collect in our wake

Sailing through this life

Well dear audience, just about a day and a half left in Cairo before I head out to my new life in Kuwait and I am surprisingly packed at this point. For almost every other trip I've made, whether from the US to Egypt or Italy or wherever, I've always been packing right up to the last possible minute. However, I'm pleased to report that my most recent packing efforts have been exemplary. First, I sorted out those possessions (a butload of papers and a large number of holey socks) that should be thrown away:

I then said goodbye to some of my soon-to-be-donated clothing, destined for some refugees in need of fashionably ripped jeans and worn-down button-up shirts. I also set aside some paperbacks to be thrown away and/or resold:

After this sorting process, in a flurry of competence I managed to pack my total belongings in about two hours. I ended up with three checked bags (albeit very, very overweight bags):

And two carry-on bags, my laptop bag and a backpack:

Thus, on Sunday morning I plan to embark at dawn with my five bags for the Cairo airport and self-deport myself. But now that I'm packed physically, I find myself having some difficulty with packing mentally, as I'm still processing my imminent move out of Egypt. For now, I'll try to relax my nerves before I leave and take it one day at a time. Or at least take it one curfew day (6 am to 7 pm) at a time.

It's been another pretty violent day here in Cairo, with gun fights erupting at various locations around the city and tanks in the streets:

And as the death toll rises, there is a pervasive sense of despair and fear in the city. You can't meet a person in public without seeing the worry on their face like extra wrinkles around their eyes, as if everybody in the country didn't get enough sleep last night. And for those Americans brave or foolish enough to remain in the country, the only certain thing is that every side hates their nationality at the moment. But to paraphrase Virgil, even this shall pass. Behold the span of human history since the birth of civilization in one chart:

You may have to zoom in on your page or visit the original to see how history is broken down by century, but this chart is amazing. Obviously all civilizations rise and fall (or in this case bulge and shrink like snakes with indigestion), but it's pretty amazing to see it represented like this. Now if you look close enough, you may notice I inserted a picture of an olinguito where Egypt would be in the present, civilizationally speaking. The current crisis facing Egypt (if represented in years) would span an area smaller than the pupil of the eye of that hyper-cute olinguito. I suppose that when you look at all of history it's easy to see how brief and insignificant our time on this planet can be, but I prefer to see the bigger picture. Or in this case, the smaller picture inside of the bigger picture that reminds me of the metaphorical bigger picture. Phew. Anyway, if you're in Egypt, stay safe and keep your head down, and let's get through this together the way we always do. Waiting it out.

MWV 8/16/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 329 - My Foolishness on "Black Wednesday"

Close to traveling

You ignore thoughts of safety

When stuff still happens

Yesterday was a pretty bad day for Egyptians, no matter their political affiliation. Things started heating up around dawn, when security forces moved in to clear the Muslim Brotherhood sit-ins in Nasr City and Giza. However, I had no idea that any of this was going on when I got up around seven to catch a bus to the American University in Cairo. I needed to return some books my mother had checked out from the library, as I'm leaving for Kuwait in just three days. Looking back, I probably could have given those books to a friend to turn back in for me, but I didn't predict it would be too difficult to turn them in myself that morning.

Anyway, I hit the street around seven thirty and noticed how quiet it was, and how still things were for that time in the morning. I was running a bit late, so by the time I got to Tahrir Street the bus was pulling up in front of the Russian Cultural Center, the last stop on my route. I broke into an undignified jog and managed to catch the bus, which was full of people despite the university being on holiday. My first inkling that something major was going on came immediately after I boarded the bus. The bus went down Tahrir Street about a block in the direction of the cornice and both highways that lead to campus, but then it started turning around. I looked out the windshield and saw a line of soldiers closing the street ahead with a few rolls of barbed wire, and that's when I knew something serious was happening.

After going through another neighborhood, our bus reached the 6th of October Bridge and after about an hour I got to campus without incident around 9 am. I turned in my books and checked the bus schedule - the only bus before 4 pm was scheduled to leave for downtown Cairo at 11:30. I spent the next few hours reading news stories on library computers, finding out second-hand how bad it was getting in some areas of the city. Come 11:30, I headed to the bus area along with about fifteen other people ready to ride the bus out of there. However, these people just milled around outside the bus waiting. One slightly rotund man with a normal-sized black beard wearing a blue and grey striped polo suddenly started screaming profanities at the army in a burst of passion. The drivers hemmed and hawed and declared every road leading to the city ma'fool or closed. I sat on the bus listening to the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar (the main national religious Sunni Muslim authority of Egypt) giving a statement on Radio Masr. Finally, I convinced myself that there was no hope of leaving before four and headed back to the library, where I waited. And waited.

Around 3:15, I received a phone call from a professor and dear family friend who wanted to let me know that all the buses were leaving at 3:30, as AUC had entered crisis mode. As a result, I promptly hopped on a bus I knew would take me straight to a subway stop in Maadi, a relatively secure expatriate suburb of the city. Rumors were flying that the streets were unsafe and there was no way to get to my side of the Nile, but once again I was saved by public transportation. Hence, I rode a near empty train to my neighborhood stop (an extremely rare experience for those who live in Cairo):

I hadn't been on the subway in a few days, and was a bit shocked by the anti-military graffiti plastered everywhere in my home station, reading "Sisi (or CC for those vandals with limited time and limitless ingenuity) is a traitor":

When I exited the station the streets were nearly empty, as a curfew from 7 pm to 6 am had just been declared. There were no cars driving through the streets of my neighborhood, and the major thoroughfare of Tahrir Street was deserted. I walked home and passed no-one but one or two preoccupied residents and a few stray dogs and cats. Most stores were shuttered, and the front door to my building was shut. I rode the elevator up to our apartment and joined my mother to await the fall of the curfew. So to sum up: after traversing Cairo and back on this bloodiest of days via bus, train, and my own two feet, I encountered no violence or danger. Blessed by my lucky stars again, I suppose. Let's hope my luck holds in Kuwait!

MWV 8/15/13 

[marksmasressays]

Essay 328 - Mimodramatic Inspiration Part 2

All revolutions

Start as a dropped rock's ripples

Moving through water

In case you didn't read Part 1 of my children's play about the Egyptian January 25, 2011 Revolution, go ahead and do that before reading today's essay. As I mentioned yesterday, I was originally inspired to write this two-part slightly mimodramatic (i.e. sans dialogue-ish) play thanks to a short-yet-brilliant work by Albert Camus. However, I've had a lot of trouble concentrating on today's essay with the events going on in Egypt today. For those of you outside Egypt, you've no doubt been cherry-picking various cable news updates that make it seem like the entire country has caught fire. Even though the majority of the country has been calm and peaceful today, hundreds of people did tragically die today thanks to government action and human stupidity, always a terrible mix. I was quite lucky in managing to return home this afternoon after idiotically going to the outskirts of the city to return some library books, and for now my mother and I are safely waiting out the curfew in my apartment. Anyway, here is the second half of my mimodramatic play, working title:

5 Kalaam - Talk

Lights come up on a woman selling stacks of magazines and newspapers on a street corner. Several children play around her. A man comes onstage and picks up a newspaper, leaving a coin with the vendor. He walks a bit off from her and starts reading the newspaper. Another man enters and buys a different paper, walking to the opposite side of the stage from the first man. Several other men enter, buy newspapers, and start reading them on the street. The children laugh as they play a game around the woman. Suddenly a man grows agitated by something in the paper. He opens his mouth and the sound of drumbeats emerges in staccato bursts. One of the children runs up to him and reaches up to the man's mouth. She pulls a red streamer from his mouth and pulls it back with her towards the woman selling papers. Other men let loose drum beats of incredulity at their papers and have their red mouth streamers similarly pulled out by other children, though now some streamers are white and others are black. When at last all the children have brought their streamers back to the center making a kind of maypole arrangement, a popping drum beat starts playing as the men and children begin to spin. The streamers revolve faster and faster as the dancing music volume grows until it cuts off suddenly as the children release their streamers and the whole streamer structure collapses. Blackout.

6 Khof - Fear

Sequence of blackouts of five men and three boys at a legna shaa3bia (popular committee) at night gathering firewood, drinking tea, and fixing their barricades. Throughout all these activities the members of this neighborhood watch wear black blindfolds, yet are unaware of the fact that they are blind. A few men light cigarettes and lights come up on them lounging on lawn chairs and half-broken stools on one side of the stage. One man tells a story about a monster. The men laugh but the three boys inch closer to the group, away from the darkened offstage area. The men get in an argument over the worst problem facing Egypt. One man argues it is Ignorance, another that it is Poverty, and a third that is truly Indolence that is at fault. A man hears a sound and the committee takes battle positions, with some clutching walking sticks or umbrellas or other items as weapons. The boys whisper about the monster to each other. A cat's meow is heard offstage in the darkness. Ignorance exclaims that it is the poor people coming to lop off their heads at last. Poverty shushes him and whispers it is the police here to arrest them all. Indolence feels the three boys scrunching closer and believes he is being attacked. He lashes out with his umbrella and hits Poverty with a yell. The boys scream that the monster has come as Poverty punches Ignorance in the face in retaliation. The other men begin to grapple with one another and there is chaos for a moment until a mobile phone goes off, freezing everyone in place. One of the three boys answers it and speaks to his mother. She is frightened and wants him home right away where he'll be safe from thugs. The boy resists, but a loud burst of sound from the phone interrupts him, and the boy shivers and makes a frightened face. He agrees to come home. Blackout.

7 Amal - Hope

Lights come up on a classroom scene. A teacher stands in front of several rows of desks filled with children. The teacher is giving a lesson about ancient Egyptian pharaohs. On the blackboard, a map of the country of Egypt is drawn in the shape of an evil-eye talisman hand, with the pinkie and thumb peeking out. Suddenly a man dressed all in red bursts into the room. He yells that the people and army are one hand and spray-paints the hand-map red. The teacher tries to continue the lesson as a man dressed all in black bursts in, yelling that the people and democracy are one hand. He pushes the man in red aside and paints the entire hand-map black, making sure to get rid of every bit of red paint. The teacher begs for them to leave so that he can continue his lesson, but then a man in white barges in yelling that the people and the police are one hand. He pushes the other men aside and paints the hand-map white. The man in red points out that there should be a golden bird on the white map and the other two men insist it has escaped. To the teacher's despair the three colored men begin to try to search the classroom by climbing around the desks and students and generally being loony. But throughout all these disruptions and the entire scene, the students are reading books, finishing some and beginning others, as if the teacher and men didn't exist. After a few moments of the men looking for the golden bird, one child should stand up and begin to sing the Egyptian national anthem, slowly joined by the other children who continue to ignore the adults. The lights grow brighter as the children sing and the teacher shouts that he can see the golden bird at last. Blackout.

MWV 8/14/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 327 - Mimodramatic Inspiration Part 1

Amidst my packing

My thoughts turn to new projects

Instead of moving

Late last night as I was struggling to get moving-jitters off my mind, I discovered this wonderful translation of a short play by Albert Camus (take a few minutes and read it, that play is really something). Anyway, I fell in love with his style of "mimodrama", in which the actors mime their dialogue and strange sounds are played instead of the actors talking. For some time now I've been meaning to get moving on writing a children's play about Egypt's January 25, 2011 Revolution. So for today's essay, here are the mimodramatic outlines of the first half of that play, working title:

1 Zalma - Darkness

Curtain opens on a soccer game being played in the dark. Dim lights come on for brief intervals showing snapshots of Egyptian fans (a mix of adults and children) celebrating winning the African cup. A few children dressed as ballplayers pass the soccer ball back and forth in the darkness. Snippets of music fade in and out from the last thirty years, and fragments of the Egyptian national anthem begin to appear more and more frequently. Finally the anthem overpowers the other songs, and lights come up on the soccer fans joining in the singing while praising a child in a suit holding an African Cup Trophy. The music reaches a crescendo and the lights go out.

2 Bikya - Old Stuff

In the darkness, a voice calls out "bikya, bikya" (old stuff! bring me your old stuff!). Another female voice asks a question from somewhere stage left. Onstage a man with a cart lights a cigarette and a dull orange glow rests on him and his wooden-donkey-led contraption. The man begins to haggle over a rare and precious item with the second voice that's still in darkness. The bikya man promises to fix the item up and a bargain is struck for what is revealed to be that voice's rights, taking the form of a cone of glitter. The bikya man then pours those rights into jars labeled things like "free speech", "right to assemble" and so on and so forth. The voice from offstage has sellers' remorse and asks to buy them back, but the bikya man explains why he can't do that, citing the price of bread, the lack of social justice, and her infringement on his rights that her request would provoke. But the man magnanimously gives the voice a treasure chest labeled "security" as her payment. The man gives the wooden donkey a smack and says it's time to move on and the lights begin to dim. As they fade to black the voice offstage faintly yells a final complaint about the treasure chest's lock being broken. 

3 Hurreyya - Freedom

The lights come up on a bunch of children sitting in a circle around a smaller circle of adults who are sitting or leaning or lying in the middle of the stage. The adults look really distressed, or bored, or angry. The children in the circle around them are smiling and some are giggling. One child whispers something to another, who laughs and passes it on until there is a soft hum of whispering coming from the entire circle of children. When the last child hears a whisper, he laughs aloud and jumps up from the circle, heading towards the adults. The child gently but persistently nudges some lounging adults aside from a flag that they were lying on and starts to wave the flag. The other children get up and start to softly chant the word hurreyya (freedom) in unison. They also take flags from the recumbent adults and begin to wave them as the chants get louder. When the chants grow loud even the adults start to perk up, joining in with the children in amazement as the company begins to yell hurreyya together. The chant stops as a screen at the rear of the stage lights up, showing a subtitled Vice President Omar Suleiman's speech announcing Mubarak stepping down, then videos of celebrating crowds throughout Egypt. After awhile, the sound cuts out until it is just images of the crowds cheering noiselessly as the light fades to black around the screen. After a few more seconds of silent footage, blackout.

4 Agendaat - Agendas

A music starts to play a bit like a merry-go-round tune, but with a distinctly shaabi (popular Egyptian music) beat. The lights come up on a carnival-like scene: a crowd of children is deciding which attractions to pursue. There are vendors dressed as Uncle Sam, other Arab countries, and political factions, each selling a different kind of confection or amusement ride (i.e. the Muslim Brotherhood Power Roller-coaster or the SCAF Whack-A-Terrorist). The children are slightly repulsed by the enthusiasm of these political carnies but each vendor strives to be louder than his fellows until all the carnies start getting in a brawl. The fight stops when the children hold up ballot boxes. The vendors then rush to distract each child holding a box while stuffing it with voting slips on the sly. The chaos intensifies until one child begins crying in the middle of the stage, seated on the floor. Prerecorded sounds of crying grow until the vendors are silenced. Everyone except for the child freezes as the lights dim and the sounds lower in volume, until it is just the child crying silently amidst the chaos. Blackout.

Catch Part 2 tomorrow, dear audience!

MWV 8/13/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 326 - Vodafone Woes and the View From the Citadel

How quickly time flies

When you struggle with issues

Of technology

Less than a week until I'm on a plane to Kuwait, dear audience, and time is starting to slip through my fingers. Today I got up a bit later than usual and started trying to figure out how to email images and videos from my phone to my computer. I have this huge backlog of photos and recordings from the original Egyptian revolution on January 25, 2011 that I need to preserve in a more secure place than in the memory of my crappy Samsung candy-bar-style phone. Today I attempted to activate the Internet settings manually because of a false sense of confidence generated by my three months of employment at a Vodafone Australia call center in 6th of October City, in this wonderfully fauxronic building (from the front it looked like Luxor, I swear):

Anyways, I punched things into my phone while Googling the specs and various technical details necessary for the process with no results. I finally looked up blearily from the phone to find that two hours had passed mysteriously while I concentrated, two hours that I probably will never get back. My mom then helpfully suggested I just go to the actual Vodafone store where someone currently employed by the company could probably assist me. At the store, I waited while some French girl purchased a phone and a few locals bought products way too expensive for my pocketbook until it was my turn to be served. The man at the counter shook his head after I explained my predicament with a rather incredulous expression on his face. It turns out my phone is too old / too primitive to send email directly. Luckily the man also pointed out my phone has some sort of memory card reader, so I suppose I'll have to pursue that avenue of inquiry to retrieve my files. But overall, it was quite a frustrating afternoon dealing with Vodafone and my oh-so-obsolete phone.

For the rest of today's essay, I thought I'd share some pictures of Cairo I took yesterday at the Citadel of Saladin. Before I took my mother out there, I thought I should brush up on some history of the place, so I looked it up online. My favorite detail was the legend that Saladin chose the location of his citadel based on the results of hanging fresh meat around Cairo. Apparently, after a day all the pieces of meat had spoiled except for one hung at the location of the citadel where the air was "freshest". I'm not sure if it's true, but I like the story. Anyway, here are my photos along with some commentary. Enjoy!

A pigeon surveys the city from a window high up on the mosque of Mohammad Ali Pasha.

Those Mameluke rulers of Egypt left their mark all over "Islamic" Cairo, with tombs and mosques aplenty. I love the moon crescents that barely touch together at the top of these minarets.

Modern Cairo meets ancient Egypt as the three pyramids of Giza float on the edges of the city. Off to to the left you could also make out Saqqara and Dashour on the horizon, the first pyramids ever built by man.

In other parts of the city, great big white plumes of smoke rose soon to be swept away by the afternoon breeze. I'm mostly certain that someone was burning trash, but I still hope against hope that this smoke was not tear gas flowing through some street or square somewhere. But in Cairo these days you never know.

MWV 8/12/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 325 - Ten Collaborative Designs

A group of strangers

Brought together in Texas

Bonded over this

In exactly a week, dear audience, I will be boarding a plane for Kuwait to begin my new job in a new country! As I've mentioned in a few essays recently, I'm still struggling with organizing my life here in Egypt and somehow moving it over to Kuwait. In other words, I have too much stuff, and I got to throw most of it out before I can move. However, I have discovered some lost treasures amidst all of my clutter, and today was no exception. I was going through a senior-year notebook and discovered a bunch of drawings made by me and my cohorts at a national camp school in southern Texas back in the summer of 2009. I was at a week-long training school in the wilds of a dry county a few hours from Fort Worth to learn the fundamentals of "program directing". My class was composed of two other guys my age, a couple of wizened Scouters, and a few young district executives (professional Boy Scouts). In the heat and humidity of the gator-and-wild-hog-filled wilderness, we set about learning the basics of leadership and creativity required to become cult figures at our respective camps. Anyway, we used to spend our free time at meals and out at the nearby Applebee's restaurant playing a simple game - one person would doodle on a page until his pen left the paper, then another person would take over doodling, and so on and so forth. So for today's essay, I photographed the ten illustrations we made over the course of that week and have presented them here with witty titles for your amusement. Enjoy!

Upside-down Peace

Wombat Mountains

Hippy Banana

Snail Abduction

Applebee's Crayon

The House of Pepe

Boredom of the Hand

Boy Themes

Hail, the Gang's All Here

Softly Falling

MWV 8/11/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 324 - Tech Wonders, Nile Pleasures, and the Cotton Candy Man

In just four hours

Future man will span the globe

In a real fast ship

Today I read a few articles about some new technological developments that really blew my mind. As my haiku points out, in as little as ten years all distances in world travel may be crossed in less than four hours, thanks to efforts finally developing "Concorde's Cousins" - new ultra-fast rocket vehicles. Well, more like hyped up jet planes, as pure travel-by-rocket is still something of a science fiction dream. But still, think about only being four hours away from anywhere on earth! Seems almost like magic for those of us nowadays who have to spend two days in transit just to appear at any family gatherings (ah the expat lament). Another pretty wondrous piece of news was the efforts of researchers to create touch-screens made out of water. Apparently, with the Kinect and touch-screen technology we have today, it was only a matter of time until someone figured out how to finally switch our keyboards from solid to liquid. Imagine an architect able to design a building by merely splashing around with his hands, or an artist using his liquid-screen to create new shapes or colors. Still not sold? Check out this video game adaptation:

Yep, that's a person making a fireball with their hands and shooting it at a target, with the water reacting appropriately. Fireballs shooting at will from your hands? Now that's a future I can get behind.

Last night I took my mother out on a felucca (a type of Nile sailboat) at sunset to celebrate the end of Ramadan. We walked along the bridge from Zamalek to catch the boat close to Midan Tahrir, and it seemed like the entire city was in the streets celebrating the holiday. And if they weren't in the streets, they were out on the water:

With almost a week left to go in Cairo, I started to get a little bit maudlin about Egypt while in the boat, since going out on a felucca is one of the most beautiful and peaceful things you can do in this country:

Even though I'm soon departing for new and drier pastures in Kuwait, I know that I'll never forget the obnoxious motor boats that run year-round up and down the Nile. These brightly-lit vessels cruise out from shore with a couple of occupants, usually blaring shaabi music as loud as they can:

Still, those boats add to the waterfront's charm, I suppose. But as tempting as it might look, never drink the water:

You never know where it's been.

I'd like to finish up today's essay by describing a brief encounter I had last night with a cotton candy vendor outside a local koshary (a kind of pasta/rice/lentil/chickpea dish)place in my neighborhood. During the holidays in Egypt, people sell a huge medley of foodstuffs on the street at night, from roast nuts to cactus fruit. But this particular vendor was carrying so many clear bags of pink cotton candy that he was completely invisible beneath their fluffy weight:

That was a picture of him from behind I tried to take surreptitiously (which means "blurry mode" according to my camera). As you can see, there is a ghostly hint of legs underneath that pink mass. Here he is from the front:

Um, you'll have to trust me that this picture wouldn't show much besides cotton candy even if it was in focus. Anyway, I loved this encounter because it was a dash of magical realism in the otherwise boring realism-heavy reality of Cairo. And if there's one thing I believe, it's that we all need a little magical realism in our lives. Right?

MWV 8/10/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 323 - A Few Excerpts From My Senior Year Notebook

Translation and school

And a rough dating record

Led to these writings

As I begin the process of packing for Kuwait, I've had to clean out an entire closet's worth of belongings from my last five years or so of living in Egypt. Today I finally cleared out the top shelf of the closet, a space where I've been dumping all my paperwork since 2010 or so. I pulled out all of the old newspapers and notebooks I've been squirreling away for the past three years, and I discovered this old notebook I used during my senior year at Georgetown:

I found a lot of interesting notes and ideas, and for today's essay I decided to share some of the stranger ones with you, dear audience, along with a little context. Enjoy!

The Critical Moment Summary

Back in 2009, I was hard at work on my senior thesis, a comparison between two plays by the Egyptian playwright Yusuf Idris. In a nutshell, I read the plays in their original Arabic then picked several passages to write about that illuminated the author's changing views on Egyptian society. Apparently I took notes on a page-by-page basis to try to capture some of the overall themes in each work (as you can see in the illustration above). I enjoyed reading these notes today because they sound like a fragmented story told by a crazy person. Here is my summary for The Critical Moment, a play about an Egyptian family's reaction to the British invasion of the Suez Canal in 1956:

Sa'id stuck in room

"Break it if you're a man"

"Our country carrying?"

People are fleeing

Doors broken - does Sa'id know?

People die from bullets not hunger

Mosa'id returns

Question of Nasr to Mosa'id

His two sons are his keys

Firdows repents

Why angry?

Speech of the officer

Words like Sa'id

In us are who killer

Hides his clothes

Sa'id thinks to hide

Nasr does not understand why he is shot

George goes back to repetition

Shirley asks for forgiveness

Sadma (shock) = George

It opens without a key

Science Fiction Story Idea

On one entire page of my notebook, scrawled in large lettering that ignored the narrow confines of the ruled page, I found the following:

Science fic story idea -

Group of stars in cluster - each "star" colony group pushed out by earth in pulses/waves from moon or Mars or diff vectors

Story - how communicate - each star has AIs (artificial intelligences)

I'm not sure where that was going, other than as a scrappy little cautionary tale about the perils of social networking in the future. Any takers?

GRE Poetry 

Quite a few pages in my notebook were covered with these short declarative sentences that I could not at first explain. If there was one dominant theme throughout, it was that I was going through a pretty rough time romantically-speaking. It was only on closer inspection that I realized I had written these sentences as a way of studying for the vocabulary section of the GRE exam, in order to get their meaning memorized. I kind of like these sentences because of their nonsensical poeticness and because of their obvious hints about my senior despair. Anyway, here is one page (from words beginning with the letter 'c' to those beginning with the letter 'p') for your amusement:

His cogent argument made sense.

I hate her complaisance to her bf.

My statement on squirrels was contentious.

I was quite contrite after yelling at her.

I was culpable after yelling too.

I hate the dearth of sex in my life.

I demurred her demand for an apology.

My p.o. video is didactic.

His discretion with my secret was nice.

I was disinterested in Frank's dining.

Louisa's dogmatic faith disturbed me.

Aaron's ebullience gets him in trouble.

His eclectic taste was varied.

His elegy praised Terrence.

The emollient healed my cracks.

The empirical observation made sense.

His enigmatic behavior was because of his mom.

I had an ephemeral relationship with a redhead.

My esoteric ammeyaa (dialect) terms are popular with friends.

His eulogy of Terrence was stirring.

That testimony exonerated him.

His facetious comment made me laugh.

The fallacy was in his beliefs.

Her furtive flirting infuriated me.

I was gregarious at parties once.

He harangued the gathering.

His worship was heretical.

My hyperbole impressed the Arabs.

I live constantly impecunious.

The incipient threat is Iran.

My love life is inert.

I made an innocuous comment.

He inveigled the present from me.

I am sometimes morose.

He has odious b.o.

He has opaque sunglasses.

Juror 12 had oscillations in his ideas.

Scrooge was penurious and irascible.

There you go! At least I've figured out how to solve the "constantly impecunious" thing in the years since 2009. Now if only I could be gregarious at parties once again...

MWV 8/9/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 322 - The Truth About Obama and Egypt

What is the real truth

When public opinion rules

And rumor is king

Happy Eid everyone! Today marks the end of Ramadan, the long month of fasting practiced throughout the Muslim world. Unfortunately, this holiday has not so far improved the prospects for political reconciliation here in Egypt. While everyone appears to be celebrating the holiday peacefully at the moment, rumors about impending violence that have swirled for weeks are finally reaching a feverish pitch. The efforts of international envoys have failed to achieve an agreement between the anti-new-government and pro-new-government factions, but there is one ray of hope: Egyptians are increasingly united in hating America (or at least its rulers). I read a marvelously uncited piece today that explains why the American government seems to be plotting to intentionally screw over the Egyptian people. So for today's essay, here is my satiric response, complete with actual photo/video/link evidence of America's nefariousness. Enjoy!

America's Plan For Egypt

Ramadan is over and the Egyptian people have spoken - they are not Syria! Every Egyptian who could walk on their own two feet (over 30 million according to people who report numbers) came out on June 30th. They successfully deposed Muslim Brotherhood President Mohammed Morsi, who was arrogantly driving Egypt to bankruptcy and foreign indebtedness.

But why was the Muslim Brotherhood so arrogant? Because it had the support of the United States every step of the way from the day Mubarak stepped down. The main agent of this Muslim Brotherhood / US government relationship was former US President Jimmy Carter, here seen meeting with the Supreme Guide of the Muslim Brotherhood as recently as last year:

Why are they smiling? Everyone knows that politicians do not simply smile like normal humans. Undoubtedly they were laughing about the Muslim Brotherhood selling the Sinai to the US for 8 billion dollars, as clearly revealed by this totally-legitimate-news-website. But Carter has always been a clear supporter of the Muslim Brotherhood, like in his remarks that last year's presidential results were fair as far as his team had observed. As far as his team observed? They must have been too busy stuffing ballots with pro-Morsi votes. I mean, let's do some basic political math here:

Jimmy Carter = American

Plus (+)

Carter Foundation supports election = Morsi elected President

Equals (=)

America rigged the election

Pretty basic math. I mean, it's not as if Carter was meeting with the Muslim Brotherhood leaders just to solicit players for his All Star Anti-American Little League games, right?

No matter. General Abdel-Fattah al-Sisi saw through all of this American maneuvering and foiled the plan to sell Sinai off to the Palestinians by deposing Morsi. The general knew all about Washington's close relationship with former President Morsi, as documented in this photo:

Look at those two laughing, probably over US plans to partition Sinai into a Palestinian state! The American government did everything in its power to preserve Muslim Brotherhood rule in Egypt, according to some sources that I happen to have as a respected journalist. These sources have confirmed that the day before the planned Tamarod protests, Obama summoned Hillary Clinton to the White House to discuss how to save Morsi and the MB government at a lunch officially about "friendship":

See how Obama is now laughing, just like Morsi in the above photo? This is part of the mounting evidence that Obama only laughs at the problems of the Egyptian people, undeniable proof of American interference in Egypt's affairs. Has Obama criticized the sit-ins of the Muslim Brotherhood for disrupting traffic in Cairo? No. Did Obama call General Sisi to congratulate him on not killing Muslim Brotherhood protestors for a whole week? No. This all adds up to a pretty obvious conspiracy for anyone with eyes, paranoia, and abundant free time. But everyone knows that Obama himself must answer to other interests, so who is really behind the unrest in Egypt? The answer lies in this totally-not-altered image:

Kentucky Fried Chicken. That's right. This has all been a conspiracy by the global food chain to replace all Cairo coffee shops with Kentucky stores, right after the Sinai becomes a new animal-rights-free-zone for producing KFC products, according to trusted sources (they know the Colonel personally). So what are Egyptians to do? Turning to Russia would have made sense in 1980...so how about China? Maybe it's time to replace all the KFCs in Egypt with Country Style Cooking Restaurant Chain (a major Chinese competitor). After all, it's not like the Chinese President has any kind of secret agreement with the Muslim Brotherhood, right?

Damn.

MWV 8/8/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 321 - Packing Woes, I'm a SLIder, and Waiting For Godzilla

Years of life's debris

Once hidden away from sight

Demand decisions

I now have about eleven days before I move to Kuwait, and here's a look at how my packing progress is going currently:

Rough, I know. As you can see, I'm pretty close to being undone by my love of books, with five years' worth of paperbacks and Arabic textbooks largely complicating my packing process. So far I've managed to take down all the posters and decorations in my room along with the contents of my bookshelves, but I've yet to make any sort of executive decisions about what to save. I'm also starting to regret my habit of keeping every notebook from grad school. But I guess that's one of the benefits of moving, in that you have to streamline your possessions to actually make your journey successful (i.e. getting everything you own to your new abode in one piece). I think that's why I've really been dragging my feet about getting down to the nitty-gritty business of putting things in suitcases: I'm still hesitant to go through with that throw-it-or-keep-it process. Maybe it's because throwing things away always seems so final to me. But really, that's a load of poo. I think we like to forget that our trash lives on even after we throw it away, so maybe I'm really just adverse to thinking someone else might enjoy my slightly-torn-up jeans or other former belonging. Time to forget such concerns and just get to it, right? I'll get right on that, starting tomorrow...

I used to think that I had a unique super power - the ability to unconsciously switch off street lights when I approach them. You see, it's pretty common for me to be walking down the street at night and have street lights turn off just as I pass by, but I've never had any sort of control over the power. As a result, I used to jokingly label it my "useless super power" (unlike my ability to read books in moving vehicles like cars and buses, which I have classified as "quite useful"). However, today while I was following one of those bizarre link-chains on the Internet, I discovered that I am not alone in my streetlamp-extinguishing power. Apparently, I suffer from common Streetlamp Interference (SLI) experiences, though unlike the individuals in that article (called SLIders), I've never correlated my experiences with weird stress or arousal. However, it's humbling to know I share something in common with many people who can disrupt electronics with their minds (usually accidentally, cause we SLIders have more static electric or something science-y like that). Now if only I could fix my apartment's broken PS3 with these powers, then I could leave Cairo a satisfied man.

I'd like to finish up today's essay by mentioning the bad news coming out of Japan's crippled Fukushima nuclear plant. The damaged plant has been steadily leaking about 300 tonnes of radioactive water into the ocean every day. My question is: Where is Godzilla? I don't mean to make light of this environmental catastrophe that has an undeniable cost in human lives and happiness, but 300 tonnes of radioactive water a day? That should at least result in the plot of the worst Godzilla movie ever (that has the most inconsistent version of the monster interacting with freaking Matthew Broderick, for the love of Pete):

Even though the planet has seen all these storms and natural disasters lately, humanity is still not getting the message. Mother Nature, you got to step up your game if you want us to take global warming seriously! So how about a giant nuclear iguana? Or a giant one of those whales that the Japanese fleets always hunt (think of the symbolism)? After all, stranger things have happened:

Right?

MWV 8/7/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 320 - Egyptian Versus Italian Concrete

With a certain hue

Concrete in my home country

Calls forth many ghosts

Well dear audience, I have slightly less than two weeks left in Cairo before I move to Kuwait to begin a new job, and I'm starting to get nostalgic about the little things. In particular, I find myself waxing nostalgic about the strangest things in my neighborhood - who would ever have thought I'd start to like the dirty yellow color that buildings get painted with by Cairo's setting sun? I've always enjoyed being a pedestrian in this city, so it's going to be a major change for me when I start commuting everywhere by car in Kuwait. I was looking through some old pictures recently and my photos reminded me just how much concrete has gone into making Cairo the modern city that it is today. This made me remember my trip to Italy last month, when every time I saw concrete in the southern province of Calabria, I was flooded with memories of my childhood. For some reason, the concrete in Italy fades to a certain color and consistency that I've come to associate with my childhood and with Italian history and culture in general. So for today's essay, I decided to compare a few photos of concrete I took during my last Italy trip with some photos of concrete I took during this last year in Egypt. Hopefully it will be more interesting than that sentence makes it sound. Enjoy!

Windows and Doors

A window by my apartment in Dokki, Giza:

An enoteca (wine bar) doorway in Gerace, southern Italy:

Comparison: Now I'm sure it doesn't help that my Egyptian example is rather out of focus, but you'll notice there is a distinct difference between the concrete in these two photos. Maybe it's just a trick of the desert light, but concrete in Egypt always has a certain dusty warm look to it. Italian concrete, on the other hand, looks old. But more on that in a moment.

Sidewalks and Store Fronts

A street corner in Alexandria (once again, slightly out of focus):

A post office on a corner in Calabria:

Comparison: Although these two street corners are both technically by the Mediterranean Sea, you'll notice that the color scheme of the concrete is actually reversed. In other words, in the Alexandria example the mold/dirt/aging coloration goes from the top down, with street level being slightly lighter colored. But in Calabria, the dirt starts at street level on the concrete and gradually vanishes higher up the face of the building. Also, is it just me or is the Italian concrete more crumbly-looking? Just saying.

Painted Concrete

A fence by the Al Zahraa subway stop in Cairo:

A chapel wall in Calabria:

Comparison: Once again, you can really see how flaky Italian concrete gets (even though this concrete is probably at least half a century old, so it figures).  However, you have to give the Egyptians mad props at their wall-painting skills (considering they've been at it for 5,000 years). You also have to admit that this Egyptian example is a pretty damn impressive graffito, even if it is just a glorified advertisement for French education. But you'll also note that the Egyptian concrete seems to be holding up a lot better under the stress of painting than in the Italian example...

Cats By Concrete

A cat on a chair next to a concrete stoop in Cairo:

A cat on a wall next to a concrete-covered medieval wall in Italy:

Comparison: All mention of relative cat-cuteness aside, you can really see the differences between Egyptian and Italian concrete in these photos. Behold the curved Egyptian concrete, perhaps sand-swept into green-brown smoothness, while the Italian variety coats that medieval wall like a stony pockmarked sponge. Maybe the concrete in Egypt is just newer than that in Italy, but it's as if the elements are way harsher to concrete in Italy than in Egypt. Additionally, the blue-green-black mold that grows on Italian concrete is very rare in Egypt, probably thanks to the low moisture here. In short, Italian concrete has a rougher time of it, making it look like some Roman laid a coat down a few thousand years ago and promptly forgot about maintenance.

Summing up my analysis of concrete in these two countries, I want to say that Egyptian concrete holds up better. But the only thing I can definitively say is that Egyptian concrete is generally "warmer" looking than Italian concrete, and that Italian concrete is more weathered. That's it, I guess. So thanks for reading to the end, dear audience!

MWV 8/6/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 319 - Egyptian Anti-Americanism and Car-Living Withdrawl

Way to go US

Hesitation leads to strife

Hatred from all sides

In case you haven't been reading my blog lately or you just hate learning about the outside world, you may be unaware that Egypt is going through a tense political crisis right now. The image of the United States has taken a nosedive since this crisis began about a month ago, with all political sides unanimously hating on the US government. To make a long story short, this hatred has stemmed from the US Embassy in Cairo's vacillating stance on the protests that took down the rather-undemocratic-yet-democratically-elected Egyptian President Muhammad Morsi. With no clear position on this uprising/coup, the US managed to alienate both the supporters and opponents of that president, and the US is now pretty much universally mistrusted. This has led to a plethora of anti-US posters appearing around the area of downtown Cairo, with most of the ire directed against US ambassador Anne Patterson or President Obama. As a half-Italian-half-American citizen living here, I'm taking it all in stride (though I'm definitely playing up my Italianness lately, if you know what I mean). Anyway, today a friend directed me to an awesome newly-released viral video that supremely insults Obama and the US government, so let me take you through some of my favorite moments! Throughout the song, singer Sama Elmasry loves to praise the Egyptian military, usually with some rather odd shots of soldiers possibly taken from a Playstation game:

Then she criticizes President Obama for his support of radical Islamist parties, using the worst insult in Egyptian Arabic (shortened here in the subtitles but referring to base sexual practices of your parents, essentially):

And borrowing a page from the US Republican Party (and possibly their Photoshop image library), Sama goes on to really call out Obama for his perceived support for conservative Islamists:

But my favorite part of the video by far is her wonderfully low-budget threatening of the US president:

I'm glad comedy needs no translation, right? Anyway, the video concludes with Sama calling out all the nations that still support the former Muslim Brotherhood President, with increasing levels of distaste:

Israel and America? Duh, easy target.

Turkey? Even grosser in her opinion. Just shut up, Mr. I-Have-A-Competent-Islamist-Government-President-Erdogan!

But Qatar is the real target of her displeasure. Looks like she really, really doesn't like Al Jazeera coverage of recent events, right? Sama finishes the video by reminding the viewer (in wonderful Egyptianized English) that Egypt is a civilization, so respect, yo:

You'll notice that not once in this video does Sama criticize Americans themselves or their admittedly crappy corporate lifestyles, and her blend of humor and insult is wonderfully Egyptian. After all, Egyptians still love Americans - they just hate our politicians, as do so many patriotic Americans. So I guess I'll have to agree with Sama (and the Republicans, though I never thought I'd see the day) that President Obama needs to be doing a better job in terms of Middle East policy. Or, as Sama puts it in one last helpful message for American politicians and diplomats:

Indeed.

I read a great article today about a young and desperate entrepreneur who lived in his car for three months to raise money for his Silicon Valle startup. I could sympathize with his situation as I used to live out of my car for a couple of months every summer back when I was working at Boy Scout Camp. My parents had moved to Kentucky, so I would spend those Colorado nights when I wasn't working at camp or crashing at a friend's house asleep in a Mexican restaurant parking lot, in this baby:

Ah my Mazda Navajo, a wonderful blue-black SUV that miraculously made it to San Fransisco and back to Colorado in 2009 and currently resides at my parents' house in Kentucky. I learned today that my dad just had it plated, so I'm looking forward to the day when I can drive my home-away-from-home once more. Those fuzzy seats were really quite comfortable. And to those who say that sleeping in a car somehow demeans you, I say don't knock it until you try it. Just make sure the car is parked someplace first. Nobody likes a sleeping driver. But that's a story for another essay...

MWV 8/5/13

[marksmasressays]

Essay 318 - Six English Text T-Shirts Around Cairo

For a foreign place

English so often appears

On people's clothing

This morning I rose pretty early to take my mother to the Egyptian Museum located near Cairo's iconic Midan Tahrir (aka Liberation Square). I had planned to drop off my mother then head back home to go back to sleep, so on the journey to the museum I was only half-awake. However, I couldn't help noticing this Egyptian teenager we passed on the way to the metro who was sporting a particularly flashy ironic t-shirt, reading something like "Don't worry about disturbing me, I'm already disturbed" in English. I didn't take much notice of the shirt at the time, but after dropping my mother off, I started noticing the abundance of English-language clothing out on the streets of Cairo. So for today's essay, I've redrawn from memory six examples of shirts with English text that I saw on the street today, along with some explanatory commentary. Enjoy!

Work Polo

A thirty-something man in my neighborhood metro station was wearing this polo tee, and I was struck by how closely it resembled my old Boy Scout Camp activity uniform. I'm not sure what Evertron refers to but that's how my mind interpreted the logo's text on his shirt. Maybe this?

Eff This Vest

Outside the station in my neighborhood, a rather classy-dressed veiled woman was sporting this vest/blouse number with the controversial UK brand FCUK plastered all over it. Her outfit was undoubtedly at the height of modern fashion, yet it still slightly reminded me negatively of the way Louis Vuitton designers make purses (or their knockoffs in this part of the world) with the initials "LV" stuck all over the product and call it original. 

Greek To Me

Another young Egyptian male was spotting this shirt on my subway train on the way to pick up my mother. At first I thought it was some kind of fraternity shirt, but after surreptitiously sneaking another peek, I was just left feeling confused. The Greek initials faded down into a strange prism-like mix of colors amid a company name of something like "Pulsar Systems" or "Pulsar Technologies". The only Google results for those initials led me to online gaming forums for something called the "War of the Roses", which seems unrelated to whatever company would name itself after a rotating neutron star. I guess this one's a stumper.

Never Forgetting

A rather serious young man entered my subway train car wearing this shirt, a plain white tee with some interesting architectural outlines on it in black ink along with the English words "We will never forget Al Aqsa". "Al Aqsa" refers of course to Jerusalem, that eternally-contested city and holy-of-holies. Symbolically, the slightly spray-painted nature of the Dome of the Rock depiction on this t-shirt was surprisingly effective in its simplicity of form.

Raise Your Glass

Standing only about a foot away from the youth with the "Al Aqsa" t-shirt was another young Egyptian man wearing this t-shirt. Now I've seen countless "Simpsons" t-shirts in my years living in Cairo, but this was definitely one of the most blatantly-irreligious examples of the genre I've seen so far. Around the circle surrounding Homer, the shirt spelled out in small print: "The cause and solution to all of life's problems". Maybe not too appropriate culturally right now, but definitely appropriate for what's been going on lately, as this political crisis would drive any temperate man to drink.

I Heart...Whatever

In the Sadat metro station by the museum I passed another young man wearing this t-shirt. This design was no doubt dreamed up by an innovative factory owner in some distant country, eager to capitalize on the popularity of the New York advertising campaign but possessing limited printing material. This shirt works anywhere you go, I suppose. With t-shirts turning 100 this year, it makes sense that we're almost out of ideas for designs. But I guess there will always be SpongeBob to turn to...

MWV 8/4/`3

[marksmasressays]

Essay 317 - Head Bumps and Horrorism

With a sharp quick jolt

I create another bump

On my weird-shaped skull

Yesterday I had one of those accidents that you never seem to outgrow: the classic banging-the-head-on-an-unseen-open-window-pane-or-cupboard-door-after-reaching-down-to-pick-up-something injury. I received a tender lump on an area next to the crown of my head, and it still hurts today. That swollen area got me thinking, however. I've heard about phrenology (the pseudoscience of determining your personality by the lumps on your head) before, but I wondered what effect my lump would have on my personality according to a phrenologist:

It turns out that I now have a pronounced "firmness" lump, indicating I should be exhibiting some sort of willfulness or obstinacy as a result of my injury. Other than a certain stubbornness towards my mother about the usefulness of my piece-o-crap living room air conditioner, I got to say that it doesn't look like there's much truth to the theory of a lump-induced personality shift. But hey, you never know. If I was a zombie the effects could have been much worse:

That lump would make me one seriously aggressive zombie! But smacking your head into something makes you pretty aggressive anyway (towards the furniture, towards the house, towards whoever left it open), at least in my experience.

I'd like to conclude today's essay by arguing for implementing the concept of horrorism over the much more widely used concept terrorism. Granted, terrorism has been in use to describe despicable deeds for over two-hundred years. But what with the US closing embassies in over twenty-two countries today because of an unspecified and ambiguous terrorist threat warning, I felt such situations would better be labeled as horrorism. Horrorism does not refer to the supernatural type of horror that sometimes pranks the world:

No, horrorism refers to that emotion produced by terrorism and terrorist threats in those who are in no way affected directly by those acts. Those not-even-bystanders, strangers of different nationalities and beliefs or even fellow citizens who shudder at the news, horrified by the actions of a crazy few and the crazy reactions by those in authority. Those are the people who must cancel travel plans, shaking at the horrors of trying to refund tickets from cold electronic bureaucracies or trying to justify to upset relatives the change in plans. Horrorism is the instilling of this horror in others, and unfortunately, it occurs no matter what side is "winning" the War On Terror at the moment. They say cowards die a thousand tiny deaths, but so do those who suffer from horrorist attacks. They are scared by countless new fears spawned by what they know and what they don't know. I'm looking at you, media, as the source of this panicky meme. So, knock it off!

MWV 8/3/13