Suits
Gollum is my favorite character in the Lord of the Rings movies. For one thing, he in neither with the evil side nor with good side, he has no quest, no mission, he is simply looking out for his own interests. He is neither with us nor against us, he is himself. He neither wishes to destroy planet earth nor liberate it from itself, all he wants, is to exist in a dark quiet corner and stroke his precious …. is that so bad? Of all the characters in the trilogy I found him to be the most compelling. His face transformed from sinister to angelic within seconds. Frodo the goodie two shoes and Sam the wimp got on my nerves. Aragon is handsome and brave and all that but he falls in love with a woman with pointy ears ….. something must be not right with him. Gandalf is wise and smart and has lots of experience but he talks the talk and let others walk the walk for him. Gollum, on the other hand is a naturalist, he doesn’t attempt to wear clothes or disguise his true nature in any way. He lives in harmony with his surroundings and his own ghosts. Let us not forget that it is Gollum who gets the ring into the pit. If all that wasn’t enough to convince you to like Gollum, it is enough for me that he has good taste in food. Sushi is my favorite food in the world, maybe Gollum is not pretty but at least he has taste with regards to food, non of the disgusting looking elfin bread …. yuck!
I have a secret to share with you. My last name when written in English and pronounced by English speakers sounds lots like the Gollum only the spelling is different.
Alright!
Now back to my trip to Washington, In the previous post I told you about how I spent my first day in Washington, Now here is how the second day went.
Turns out that even the geeks dress in suits in Washington, I discovered much to my chagrin. I went to attend the first talk at the conference to find out that I was grossly underdressed in my jeans, t-shirt and a baseball cap. Luckily I arrived early and had plenty of time to run back into my hotel room and change quickly into more suitable attire. The geeks were still geeky, which I found comforting. They still walk around with their laptops, two pocket PCs, the blue tooth ear peace and all, but in Washington they wear fancy suits. Must be an east coast thing. Luckily I always bring a variety of clothing with me just in case and my husband always complains as I am packing “Why do you need to carry that much clothing with you”. “You never know what you might encounter while on a trip” I always answer. And this time I was glad I was prepared for the emergency.
I was determined to avoid discussing politics at any price. I thought that an Iraqi visiting Washington shortly after the war better keep her thoughts to herself. I tried very very hard to chat with people about things not political.
“So what is it like to live in Washington?” I asked one lady attending the conference. I thought this was the perfect question for light non political safe small talk.
“It is so hard being a single woman in Washington, all the men are too important and don’t have time” the woman responded. Then she went on a rant about how all men are assholes in Washington and that reminded her that George Bush is an asshole too and then she went on rant about how much she hates and despises Bush.
So much for the light small talk.
I thought I would try my luck again
“What is it like to live in Washington?” I asked a young man at the conference. After I ditched my first small talk encounter.
“Living in Washington sucks big time, all the women are gold diggers who expect to be wined and dined all the time” The man responded. Then he went on a rant how everybody he knows wants to become a lawyer and then they become corrupt self centered human beings, then he told me how much he hates the Washington Post because of its friendly stand on Bush and the war and then he went on a rant about how Bush and his administration is the source of all evil in the world.
I was tempted to introduce the man to the woman I was talking to earlier since they were both complaining about the hardships of being single in Washington, but then I thought it might get me into trouble. I might be accused of participating in the Iraqi conspiracy to confuse single Americans with weapons of wrongful match making.
I think I better change my opening question to people. I wasn’t trying to ask loaded questions but it was getting me into loaded answers.
For lunch I went to a nearby restaurant and ordered something called Cob Salad, it sounded healthy. Holy Molly what a feast. Imagine a salad topped with strips of bacon, sliced steak and chicken breast smothered in blue cheese dressing. I proceeded to have Cob Salad for lunch every single day for the duration of my stay. My only complain is that it shouldn’t be called a salad, it should be called heart attack with greens on the side. Good thing I don’t live in Washington because I would have to eat heart attack with greens of the side for the rest of my life and I would look like a whale. If you are planning a visit to Washington please have a Cob Salad at least once.
Washington is very different from all other American cities I have visited. People are generally friendly and polite, everybody was wearing a fancy suit, there is sense of history of culture in the city and everybody I met would somehow mention how much they despise George Bush regardless of how hard I tried to steer away from the subject. I almost felt like I was in Europe. If you took away the bit about friendly polite people you could almost imagine that you were in Europe. Down to the art galleries.
I opened the entertainment newspaper trying to see if there is something going in the city that might grab my attention in the evening. Madeline Albright was giving a talk that night. The thought of hearing Ms. “Killing 500,000 Iraqi children during sanctions was a worth while price to pay” made my stomach churn. There were other important politicians talking at different venues, part of me felt that I wanted to soak in the Washington experience but the other part remembered events of the previous day and I thought I better avoid any politicians of any sorts, it hard enough dealing with the average Washingtonians who all feel compelled to express every political idea they ever had within 5 minutes of meeting me. So I decided to go to an art gallery instead. I always liked art galleries, I ended up going Freer Gallery of Art. I didn’t expect much from an art gallery in the US having visited plenty of art galleries in Europe; but I was in for a shocking surprise.
I was enjoying the interesting exhibit there until I walked into the Peacock Room. A dining room designed by American Artist named James McNeill Whistler, whose name I never heard before. I was stunned, awestruck, flabbergasted and transformed.
I stood there for 30 minutes in awe admiring the perfection of what is called “Harmony in Blue and Gold”. I was not prepared to view that day an object of such beauty and such perfection that my whole existence would be transformed by it. As I left the dining room I was in tears. I have no doubt that I had come face to face with a work of art that had a touch of divine inspiration. I felt sorrow. I wish I could create something so perfect and so beautiful in my life. I might never do. If I could do one thing in my life, just one thing that is as beautiful as the peacock room I would die a happy woman. There was a sense of deep yearning, yet I felt spiritually uplifted. I can’t describe how I felt at that moment. It was similar to the feeling of falling in love, delicious yet terrifying at the same time.
As I walked outside the dining room I could see a homeless man sitting on one of the benches of the gallery, he was hunched over, head down. He must have gotten past the security guards somehow, he looked like he just wanted a peaceful refuge for a little while. As I passed him, the thought crossed my mind that I might never be able to create a work if art as inspiring as the peacock room but I might be able to make the day for a single homeless man. I walked up to the hunched over man an tapped his shoulder. He looked up at me. I realized that this was barely a man, he looked like a 16 year old boy, he was merely a kid. A slew of questions passed through my brain “Why are you on the streets? Where is your mom and dad? Don’t you have any relatives that could help you?” But I didn’t ask any of them. In the distance I could hear a the security guards marching towards us, mumbling incomprehensible codes on their walkie-talkies, they were coming to shoo this kid away, to tell him that he didn’t belong in this posh gallery. There wasn’t much time. I handed him 20 dollars. He looked at me, perhaps he had a whole bunch of questions for me as well “Why are you giving this to me? What are you doing in this snotty place? Don’t you find all this art work boring?” but he didn’t say anything. He smiled. A beautiful smile that revealed a set of white teeth that shined like a string of pearls
We parted in silence, no exchange of words, only a 20 dollar bill changed hands.
I returned to my hotel room, exhausted and drained yet again, but this time it was a different kind of exhausted.
I have a secret to share with you. My last name when written in English and pronounced by English speakers sounds lots like the Gollum only the spelling is different.
Alright!
Now back to my trip to Washington, In the previous post I told you about how I spent my first day in Washington, Now here is how the second day went.
Turns out that even the geeks dress in suits in Washington, I discovered much to my chagrin. I went to attend the first talk at the conference to find out that I was grossly underdressed in my jeans, t-shirt and a baseball cap. Luckily I arrived early and had plenty of time to run back into my hotel room and change quickly into more suitable attire. The geeks were still geeky, which I found comforting. They still walk around with their laptops, two pocket PCs, the blue tooth ear peace and all, but in Washington they wear fancy suits. Must be an east coast thing. Luckily I always bring a variety of clothing with me just in case and my husband always complains as I am packing “Why do you need to carry that much clothing with you”. “You never know what you might encounter while on a trip” I always answer. And this time I was glad I was prepared for the emergency.
I was determined to avoid discussing politics at any price. I thought that an Iraqi visiting Washington shortly after the war better keep her thoughts to herself. I tried very very hard to chat with people about things not political.
“So what is it like to live in Washington?” I asked one lady attending the conference. I thought this was the perfect question for light non political safe small talk.
“It is so hard being a single woman in Washington, all the men are too important and don’t have time” the woman responded. Then she went on a rant about how all men are assholes in Washington and that reminded her that George Bush is an asshole too and then she went on rant about how much she hates and despises Bush.
So much for the light small talk.
I thought I would try my luck again
“What is it like to live in Washington?” I asked a young man at the conference. After I ditched my first small talk encounter.
“Living in Washington sucks big time, all the women are gold diggers who expect to be wined and dined all the time” The man responded. Then he went on a rant how everybody he knows wants to become a lawyer and then they become corrupt self centered human beings, then he told me how much he hates the Washington Post because of its friendly stand on Bush and the war and then he went on a rant about how Bush and his administration is the source of all evil in the world.
I was tempted to introduce the man to the woman I was talking to earlier since they were both complaining about the hardships of being single in Washington, but then I thought it might get me into trouble. I might be accused of participating in the Iraqi conspiracy to confuse single Americans with weapons of wrongful match making.
I think I better change my opening question to people. I wasn’t trying to ask loaded questions but it was getting me into loaded answers.
For lunch I went to a nearby restaurant and ordered something called Cob Salad, it sounded healthy. Holy Molly what a feast. Imagine a salad topped with strips of bacon, sliced steak and chicken breast smothered in blue cheese dressing. I proceeded to have Cob Salad for lunch every single day for the duration of my stay. My only complain is that it shouldn’t be called a salad, it should be called heart attack with greens on the side. Good thing I don’t live in Washington because I would have to eat heart attack with greens of the side for the rest of my life and I would look like a whale. If you are planning a visit to Washington please have a Cob Salad at least once.
Washington is very different from all other American cities I have visited. People are generally friendly and polite, everybody was wearing a fancy suit, there is sense of history of culture in the city and everybody I met would somehow mention how much they despise George Bush regardless of how hard I tried to steer away from the subject. I almost felt like I was in Europe. If you took away the bit about friendly polite people you could almost imagine that you were in Europe. Down to the art galleries.
I opened the entertainment newspaper trying to see if there is something going in the city that might grab my attention in the evening. Madeline Albright was giving a talk that night. The thought of hearing Ms. “Killing 500,000 Iraqi children during sanctions was a worth while price to pay” made my stomach churn. There were other important politicians talking at different venues, part of me felt that I wanted to soak in the Washington experience but the other part remembered events of the previous day and I thought I better avoid any politicians of any sorts, it hard enough dealing with the average Washingtonians who all feel compelled to express every political idea they ever had within 5 minutes of meeting me. So I decided to go to an art gallery instead. I always liked art galleries, I ended up going Freer Gallery of Art. I didn’t expect much from an art gallery in the US having visited plenty of art galleries in Europe; but I was in for a shocking surprise.
I was enjoying the interesting exhibit there until I walked into the Peacock Room. A dining room designed by American Artist named James McNeill Whistler, whose name I never heard before. I was stunned, awestruck, flabbergasted and transformed.
I stood there for 30 minutes in awe admiring the perfection of what is called “Harmony in Blue and Gold”. I was not prepared to view that day an object of such beauty and such perfection that my whole existence would be transformed by it. As I left the dining room I was in tears. I have no doubt that I had come face to face with a work of art that had a touch of divine inspiration. I felt sorrow. I wish I could create something so perfect and so beautiful in my life. I might never do. If I could do one thing in my life, just one thing that is as beautiful as the peacock room I would die a happy woman. There was a sense of deep yearning, yet I felt spiritually uplifted. I can’t describe how I felt at that moment. It was similar to the feeling of falling in love, delicious yet terrifying at the same time.
As I walked outside the dining room I could see a homeless man sitting on one of the benches of the gallery, he was hunched over, head down. He must have gotten past the security guards somehow, he looked like he just wanted a peaceful refuge for a little while. As I passed him, the thought crossed my mind that I might never be able to create a work if art as inspiring as the peacock room but I might be able to make the day for a single homeless man. I walked up to the hunched over man an tapped his shoulder. He looked up at me. I realized that this was barely a man, he looked like a 16 year old boy, he was merely a kid. A slew of questions passed through my brain “Why are you on the streets? Where is your mom and dad? Don’t you have any relatives that could help you?” But I didn’t ask any of them. In the distance I could hear a the security guards marching towards us, mumbling incomprehensible codes on their walkie-talkies, they were coming to shoo this kid away, to tell him that he didn’t belong in this posh gallery. There wasn’t much time. I handed him 20 dollars. He looked at me, perhaps he had a whole bunch of questions for me as well “Why are you giving this to me? What are you doing in this snotty place? Don’t you find all this art work boring?” but he didn’t say anything. He smiled. A beautiful smile that revealed a set of white teeth that shined like a string of pearls
We parted in silence, no exchange of words, only a 20 dollar bill changed hands.
I returned to my hotel room, exhausted and drained yet again, but this time it was a different kind of exhausted.
There is a way between voice and presence where information flows.
In disciplined silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes. .... Rumi
6:20 AM"Overheard on a Salt Marsh" ~ Harold Munro
(and I can't believe you passed up the opportunity to introduce those two Bush dissidents. they could have had lots of little not-bush voters. now what will we do, the population plan is under quota and Sauron's son has the ring.)
10:05 AM
Ihath, you amaze me, and without the prior comment by Emigre, I would not have seen what amazes me. Sometimes the angle is as important as the lighting. Told to look up, one sees a bird, another a plane, and, well you know what I see . . . On a separate point, one to which I hope you take no offense, you aren't really a very good agnostic, or on second thought, maybe you really are.
(Debate within self: You should not post this comment, far too cryptic and susceptible to misinterpretation. Well, who is it for? She will know, and if she doesn't, what is the harm? Ok, then why not say it plainly? Because you believe that you are "right" and fear being proven "wrong." Then, you should not post it. No, neither fear nor being "right" has anything to do with it. Well, what is it really that moves you to post? You found something, or some things, on your second time through the story that you missed the first time through and you want to encourage others to read each word, from beginning to end, to see if they see the same or similar things. If that is truly the case, then you should post. But what about the author? Its her work. Yeah, but its our reading. Post it.)
10:55 AM
;-)
9:02 PM
Yow. One of your very best. It will stick for quite a while, starting with the image of the Cob salad. I may have to try to incarnate it myself, or SLT.
Did you vote?
11:48 PM
what a fantastic story. you went to DC and "everyone" you talked you told you how much they despise bush. how could anyone have doubted the truth in that? i love the story at the end where you see the 16 y/o boy that is homeless. i enjoyed how you managed to give him some money just before those hearthless capitalist security guards were going to toss him out on the street. an arab giving money to a homeless american? what a sense of poetic justice. way to take sympathy on the infidels. actually, what a bias, piece of garbage story. i cant remember the last time i heard some propaganda and garbage from someone. as a writer, you have an ethical responsibilty but i guess you dont believe in ethics. im surprised the story didnt end with the homeless boy being converted to islam and denouncing american foreign policy and appologizing to you for the death of so many iraqis. my god how i hate you. my hate for you is so deep its hard to imagine.
5:21 AM
The previous anonymous poster popped the balloon of my desire to make some witty comment. oddly, i feel as if I should, not so much apologize for him or her, but simply meet you eye to eye, knowing that you are wise enough to realize that his stupidity is his own only.
But i was reminded, in your piece, of an incident from my childhood in a small town in pennsylvania, where, you might be surprised to learn, people were friendly and most adults wore suits unless they were working on cars.
A man in tattered clothing was going door to door bemoaning his plight, asking for a quarter. (A quarter could buy you a hamburger in those days.) Eventuaolly, someone contacted the town cop (we had but one), who eventually pinched him for panhandling. he was about to charge him for vagrancy, but found that the man had $95 in various deep pockets in his tattered coat, almost all of it in quarters.
He further found that the man had a room at the local motel (there was but one), having arrived the noight before. He protrayed himself as a hard working man, who plied his trade 6-8 hours a day. He was quite angry to be stopped after a mere four hours, and short of his usual haul. Seems that he expected to make $150 a day when the average worker was making considerably less than $100 a week.
A check of his motel room found, along with a couple of other tattered "costumes," new and rather expensive clothes, and his automobile was late model.
An example of good old, American go-get-'em.
--Averroes
8:24 PM
Wow. Noone has ever hated me with a hate so deep it was hard to imagine. :-( Maybe I should go to the Freer Gallery more often. Very impressive, ihath.
Michael
6:35 AM
Hey, wait a minute, Sam was no wimp! In Return of the King, he was the bravest and strongest of them all. Without him, Frodo would not have made it. Sam, the man. :)
12:21 PM
hey ihath, it is none of my business, but you probably should lodge a complaint against anon.. or at least publish an IP address. Especially if it's the same anon who said he/she would like to put a bullet through ure head in the previous post. Disagreeing is one thing but this is pure hate.
4:16 PM
i make a post telling the anon hater to grow up and i get deleted?!?! how can that post remain, but mine was deleted? i dont understand the reason behind that.
12:17 PM
this is not the blog of reason. This is not the blog of sanity. This is not an enlightened blogger either. Expect wacky things to happen any time and for no logical reason at all.
8:12 AM
Its a chick blog. :}
1:16 PM
Marhaba y'uni Ihath
I had your blog sitting in my favorites for months... finally I had a read tonight.. Love the observations and zany thoughts.. Very Iraqi;-)
As a little present for your efforts here is a link to a Baghdadi Radio stations I discovered lately... try to catch one of the late night shows (around 10pm onwards Iraq Time) where they have phone ins.. You will pick up a few more stories for your blog from there. I promise you.
Keep em coming
Abu Hadi
1:30 PM
Oooops sorry... here it is http://www.radiodijla.com/index.shtml
7:37 AM
I think someone may be trying to muscle in on our subversity by pinching a few of our key words. If John Lennon were to read the last line of Anon at 9:02PM he'd be mortified, as am I.
You may say I'm a dreamer... and you'd probably be quite right.
10:57 AM
too bad lennon is dead emigre
4:11 AM
Great ideas surpass mortality, Anon. Einstein is dead too, but we still have the theory of relativity. Do you think the web will cease to exist when Bill Gates passes on?
1:31 PM
emigre, you make some of the most bizarre and meaningless posts of anyone i know. what exactly are you trying to say sometimes? what language are you speaking? are you even attempting to make sense, or are you posting in some sort of medieval code?
4:12 AM
richsanter
And this is where some of us enjoy running "rings" around some others. Either we gets poetry, or we doesn't. "If you have to ask, you'll never know".
The Elves (not Gollum)
8:04 AM
Purity of heart is required to understand Emigre.
5:12 AM
True ihath, in some instances.
Unfortunately, very few people have pure hearts. Fortunately, sometimes purity comes when one can admit ones heart is dirtied. Poetry is a messy business.
10:40 AM
Even a small amount of contamination can pollute the whole well, and I don't think that I have ever tasted truly pure ground water, free from any compound but H2O. Sometimes the contaminant is easily discerned, whether through taste, color or smell. Other times, the contaminant is present in such low concentration that it is not detected by human sensory perception. The latter (eg TCE) can be extremely hazardous to one's health even in realatively slight concentration, while the former (eg Tannins) may offend the senses but be entirely safe to consume. Info here Recognition of the contamination, in my view, is an essential first step in assessing and addressing the problem. Some problems, like tannins, may not be of sufficient concern to merit the expense of the remedy, while others are sufficiently hazardous that only a fool would continue drawing from the same well. Any expense, even the drilling of a different, deeper well, or of obtaining your water from another source, is worth the cost when measured against the harm.
While I agree with the statement that, "We either gets it or we doesn't," I do not agree with the statement that, "If you have to ask, you'll never know." I would say that if you don't know and don't ask, you will never get it. And if you don't get it after asking, the person to whom the question is being asked is probably using special equipment to measure otherwise imperceptible levels of tannins in your well, and you never really needed to know. Debates over intelligence or perception are a bit like bragging rights over who has the deeper well, when what counts is the purity of the water, and after a point, relative purity yields no appreciable gain. Feigned incomprehension and ridicule directed towards another are oftentimes the result of knowing that one's own well is contaminated and desiring to obscure that fact from the perception of others. Unfortunately, success is usually achieved only with the owner of the well who now believes his own words and no longer feels that, relatively speaking, there is a problem with his own water. Hate in measured doses, is like a pesticide, useful for eradicating pests but never good to ingest oneself. Hate, especially the hard to imagine kind, corrupts the whole well, and even seeks to migrate to the wells of others. So toxic, even the vapor can cause one to lose conscience as well as consciousness. Remediation is a long and expensive endeavor, requiring numerous monitoring wells to track the plume of migration. Bottled water is usually necessary for the whole community whilst the professionals do their work, and even then, completion may only represent containment.
If you notice a slight smell of sulpher in my water, or the telltale stain of iron in my sink, know that I also see them. While not aesthetically pleasing, they are symptoms of conditions that are not truly hazardous to our health. You may also notice any number of what some would consider pests, but after having experienced the misery of ingesting pesticide, I no longer view them as pests and have no need for pesticide. Unfortunately, no well stays pure on its own and can be corrupted by contamination of many forms from a multitude of sources. After all, this isn't the first well that I ever drilled, and it won't be the last. I am not always as diligent as I should be in monitoring my water quality, and I am not offended if you use your own equipment to test for contaminants. Truth is, I test yours more frequently than I test my own, and that is a confession.
6:59 AM
These metaphysical collaborations are all very well, but where is ihath?
Perhaps it's time to lower a plumbline and ascertain the depths at which a body might conceal itself, before sending out search teams.
Some of us appear to be quite happy slopping around down here measuring bore quality and prescribing flouride tablets, while others could even be developing fins, but I do wonder if the marshlands have proven a little damp and our host has moved on to dryer ground?
Not wanting to bog anyone down in detail but her other blog has appeal. If only we could reads it.
sump-sprite (migratory, south)
9:15 AM
Wahoooo! Somebody is reading my arabic blog. Yes! Yes!
11:45 AM
I'm probably wayyy too late in terms of the date of this post (which for the life of me I canot figure out) but your description of DC is spot on. I live in DC, where everyone talks politics ALL THE TIME, even when they try not to. As you experienced, the city is filled to overflowing with really bitter single people who, did I forget to mention(?), talk politics ALL THE TIME. Perhaps, as you subtly noticed, the obsession with politics explains the bitterness (and the singleness - or is it singularity?).
It's actually a nice place to live - great and free museums, fairly good weather, and national parks, bike paths, and kayaking opportunities within a few minutes drive in every direction. Then again I'm married and therefore may have a different view. Having grown up in Manhattan, I recognize that I'm in the minority, but I like it here.
I also like the cobb salads - the one at M&G's on 4th and F is, as you said, a heart attack with some greens on the side.
In any event, I just found this pleasant site and wish you well. You're a good writer.
11:47 AM
oops - that's 14th and F, and excuse the early typos - have never posted a comment before . . .
11:49 AM
Thank you anon, I might visit Washington later this year again. I will be sure to visit M&G at 14th and F.
11:56 AM
It's M&S, not M&G - I really need to proof read :) If you come back in April you'll see the cherry blossoms, which are really quite lovely.
3:30 PM
ihath, what happened to the pictures you had of yourself on the site? now if i want to come visit you in vancouver i will just have to stop random people and ask if they've seen an annoying chubby arab girl that hates america and christians. perhaps i should just ask to see the person that makes IEDs and suicide car bombs, then i will get directed to your place.
5:34 PM
You know, it is always difficult to determine what amounts to feeding the trolls. I have tried not to cross that line, but now I do so with the full knowlege that LN can, should she choose, correct the error if it be such.
I am, well at least I think of myself as, a Christian, Conservative, Republican American. I own a number of guns, some for hunting, some for fun, and I know how to use them. Do you think that Ihath approves? I doubt it. But, Anon, she loves me anyway. You are simply wrong in your assessment, and I think that you know it.
But, guess what, I, the gun toting, dog owning, NRA member, am afraid of you. I could post with an identity that you could trace, but I won't. Not worth it, too much risk and worry.
But this chubby Arab girl, as you refer to her, puts her name, her actual identity out for you to threaten. A girl, by your own admission, and you are threatening her. Shame, shame on you.
When I first learned that rapists were real, I could not imagine how someone could be so "sexed up" as to force themselves upon a woman. I couldn't even imagine how it would be enjoyable. Ah, but therein lies the error. It ain't about sex, its about something else, something very foreign to my nature. You Sir, are a foreigner to humanity. You are a terrorist who hides in the shadows, craving for control, but finding it only in your ability to disturb the lives of others. If I were not afraid, I would pity you.
6:28 PM
anon, if you read my post again you will see that i never threatened ihath. i have no idea why you mention things like rape, as if that was a threat that i made or something. also, ihath does not use her own identity, as you state. if you read her last post you would see that she doesnt use her real name. my post was meant to be a racial, religious, and ethnic slur, but not a threat. i dont see why ihath can make all of her insane pro-terrorist/anti-american rants, but i can't make one remark without people accusing me of making death or rape threats. grow up
9:35 PM
Hateful anon> You did smear her, though it could be construed as a threat. Like the anon who called you out, I have views Ihath would probably diasgree with. I'm a conservative, hawkish veteran who just left the Army. I am also an ex-Republican who joined the Libertarian Party, and I discovered Ihath's blog from Zayed of Healing Iraq, and I imagine many of Ihath's more conservative fans may have learned of her there.
As for DC and anti-Bush sentiment, the city is 90% Democrat so no big surprise there.
Now if I get a chance to go to Vancover I definitely hope to meet with Ihath. Hopefully you won't mind my propensity to wear suits with bowties :)
8:15 AM
LN, please forgive me if my immaturity manifests itself in undesirable ways.
Troubled Anon: I stand by every word that I wrote, and the meaning should be clear to you. Talk of paying someone a visit "at their place" is, in no uncertain terms, a threat when coupled with as you say, racist hateful comments. There is also the larger context here, that of the other Anon posts. But you know that, you understand. You also understand the reference to rape, to terror, to trying to fill that void in your own life by disrupting the lives of others. You have allowed yourself to become a terrorist. On the other hand, if you genuinely care to prove your good faith intentions in advancing whatever cause you presently call yours, identify yourself. Come out from the shadows, let the light shine on your face for all to see.
The sad truth, as I review your post, is that you are ignorant, and I do pity you. Really, I do, and if I could help you, I would. Whoever drilled the phrase "grow up" into your head, was wrong to do so, and didn't know what the Hell they were talking about.
9:06 PM
anon, i really could care less what you think. its beyond hypocritical for you to basically call me a coward for not putting my name at the end of the my post, while you refuse to do so yourself. i didnt quite understand your bizarre remark about rape and terrorism. just because i said i wanted to visit ihath, doesnt mean im a terrorist. i've seen her picture and there is no way in hell i would rape her even if i could borrow someone elses penis for the night. thomas says he would like to visit ihath too, but nobody is complaining about that and calling him a rapist. in fact, there was no mention in my post about rape or any kind of violence, so i really could care less about what you think since you obviously have as much brains as that skank ihath. it was a post that was meant to be a racial, religious, and ethnic slur...but some of you people add things like rape and terrorism to the mix, which i never mentioned. again, screw all of you internet/lords of the ring loving nerds.
Frank the Tank
8:37 AM
i dont understand what the big deal is about you giving someone a $20 canadian bill. that's like 50 cents american money. I lose that in my couch and dont expect a thank you from it.
Mike
11:54 AM
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