How do I hate Iran
Let me count the ways
By Gojeh Ezaafeh
February 13, 2002
I hate the people, language, culture of "taarof"
I hate the posers, showoffs, brats and bitches
I hate the liars, lies, betrayals and corruption
I hate the cowardice
I hate the families and relatives
I hate the repeated self-inflicted oppression and brutality
I hate the stupidity and stubbornness
I hate the Paykan
I hate the Beemer, Benz, Lexus and Acura
I hate the ghaali foroosh
I hate the real estate agent, chiropractor, dentist, doctor
I hate the engineer; software, hardware, civil, electrical
I hate the student; UCLA, USC, Berkeley, NYU, GW
I hate the roosari, chador, amaameh and abaa
I hate the "depict-Iran-as-a-backward-shithole" films that win at Cannes
I hate the vomitous websites
I hate the ponciness of Black Cats, Andy, Mortzavi, and Siavash
I hate the reformer, hardliner, monarchist and "chapi"
I hate the Googoosh syndrome
I hate the stuck-in-the-seventies-can't-come-up-with-anything-better TV shows
I hate the, drill-a-hole-in-your-brain beat of "deesko", 6:8, and "beshkan"
I hate the "Mediterranean" cuisine
I hate the fruit seller for saying "Khanoum! Savaa nakon!"
I hate the Bazaar
I hate the phone rate, inflation rate, exchange rate
I hate the smell of esfand, sonbol, golaab, and ghormeh sabzi
I hate the ruins of Persepolis
I hate the word "Persian"
"Why do you hate it?" you ask.
I hate it for it's constant irritation,
an itch unscratchable, a thorn unremovable, a cut unhealable.
Like shrapnel lodged deep in my soul
Whose removal is emotional paralysis
Maybe, I hate it because I love it.
Maybe, I hate it because I love it too much.
Maybe, I hate it because it never, ever, once loves me back.