April 2007
 ABADAN
Harshness of it all
Mark Morshedi
April 29, 2007
In response to Paul Schroeder's photos of Abadan "Memories of an American boy", I also was born and raised in Abadan and although people who were raised in oil company subsidized housing have wonderful memories, I don't remember Abadan to be that great. It was hot and sticky in the long summers for us the other people in Abadan; the unseen people, the dark people, the people without the swimming pool, air conditioned housing, movie theater, the people whose summers were never ending and all they remember is heat -- extreme heat -- and the only relief they had was to swim in the filthy water the city discharged.
We were the people who slept on the roof to get some "relief" from the heat, and instead had to deal with high humidity which made our bed wet that made us stick to our bed sheet while the other aliens from far and near lived in the air conditioned houses courtesy of the oil that was being extracted from under us, the land that was supposed to be my land. We also lived in Abadan but we never got to go the petroleum university and in fact we didn't even know it exited; that wasn't our nation you see.
In my town I wasn't even allowed to go to the other Abadan where apparently they had horses and a horse track, clubs, and all the trimmings. They were off limits to us. Yes I was a child of Abadan but not the one you show in your photos. Some of the pictures show some of the other side, our side, the dark side. May be that's what made us all cheer in 1979, yet once more we got betrayed by yet the other despicable group of tyrants who now rule what remains of us. What bitter sweet memories.
I remember Abadan, and I have the accent, and the color to prove it and despite the bitterness of the experience there remains some sweetness in the depth my soul. But I don't speak of it fondly for I remember the harshness of it all.
 IRAN-U.S.
Bumper sticker diplomacy
Neekandish
April 25, 2007
Great news! Iran and US have started talking, thanks to bumper stickers:
Iran : If everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane!
US: I told you don't follow me, I'm lost too...
Iran : Cover me. I'm changing lanes.
US: Dear Lord, please save me from your followers.
Iran: Don't you like my driving? Then quit watching me.
US: Drive carefully! Remember, it's not only a car that can be recalled by it's maker.
Iran: Don't you wash your car?
US: Don't run your fingers over my car and I won't run my car over your fingers.
Iran: I would give you the finger but it's up my nose.
US: Madness takes its toll. Please have exact change ready.
Iran: Instead of being born again, why not just GROW UP?
US: If your car was a horse, I'd have to shoot it.
Iran : Forget About World Peace... Just learn how to Use Your Turn Signal!
US: Someday we'll look back on all this and plow into a parked car. Comment
 300
Try to be humble and nice
Sadaf Saeidi Haghayegh
April 25, 2007
I have read a few articles on the movie 300. Despite what most Iranians have said, I think the movie was very beneficial for the Iranian community. The main purpose of it was to rub away the meaningless and shallow pride that Iranians take in their past Persian identity.
According to history, Persians were one of the many tribes in Iranian plateau who inter-mingled with other races and tribes such as moguls, Turks, Jews, Afghans, Greeks, Arabs, and etc in later generations. Even the Persian Empire was so vast and it included many different ethnicities in its administration. Therefore, there is no reason to call one a Persian because anyone of us who does that might be more of any other tribal background than Persian in particular. However, we can all call ourselves Iranians because we were all born in a geographic zone called Iran and we all share Iranian heritage.
The movie 300 will make Iranians stop calling themselves Persians for heaven’s sake and instead of clinging to something vague in the past, we Iranians can find something meaningful in our present and future. Who cares if we had tyrants in the past? But we should care not to appoint a tyrant as our ruler for the present and future generations. Instead of taking pride in our PhDs and Doctorates and calling ourselves with titles such as Doctor and Engineer all the time and thinking that Persians are the best, we should try to be humble and nice to people in our daily lives. Maybe this way, people would have more respect for where we have originally come from.
Unfortunately, I have seen this stupid attitude in the Iranian community in the past. Iranians don’t respect others who have no degrees, properties, or etc. they always compete with each other over materialistic values and they care more about acquiring a BMW than about donating 20 bucks a month to organizations such as UNICEF. The reason why the United States has gone ahead in the world is not because of the number of its PhDs, doctors, or engineers but it is because of its cultural values of hard-working, simplicity, humbleness, and humanity.
Another point that I would like to mention is that even the United States is not a perfect society, nevertheless, it always attempts in that direction. I personally feel sorry for the African Americans because portraying white-skinned adversary Persians as blacks show how despised the blacks are in America, as well as the homosexuals as the tyrant king Xerxes was portrayed as a gay! Comment
 HERITAGE
Budha and Cyrus, Taliban and Ahmadinejad
Maziar Novin
April 24, 2007
Finally, "President" Ahmadinejad, the wannabe Mosaddeq successor and tireless proponent of Iran's right to develop nuclear technology and destroy Israel, crowned his disastrous track record of anti-Iranian policies by deciding to make the Sivand dam fully operational. Undisputed as it is that the water accumulating behind the dam will damage, if not totally destroy, many archaeological sites in the Bolaghi pass and the ancient city of Pasargadae, it is amazing how relatively calm Iranians are over this issue. Judging from the outcry created over "300", one would wish that people at least make a comparable attempt and express their outrage on this issue -- but so far nothing of the sort can be seen.
Considering the undisputed importance of Cyrus the Great and the Achaemenid Empire as world (rather than merely Iranian) heritage, destruction or endangering of the site is nothing short of a crime against humanity. It is simply unacceptable that a modern day warmonger and human rights violator like Ahmadinejad destroy the tomb of the first human being to abolish slavery and to introduce freedom of religion into a world where bloodshed and cruelty was the norm.
Today, Iranians of all ranks simply cannot afford to be part of a generation responsible for this crime. We should, by all means, stop this madness. I remember clearly the international outrage created by the Taliban's destruction of two Buddha statues in Afghanistan. I wonder whether Cyrus the Great's tomb is not of a comparable value. I cannot understand why there is not even the slightest mention of this issue in the international media, which never forget by the way to mention the potential threat posed by Iran's nuclear ambitions on each and every occasion.
Given the increasing likelihood of an American/Israeli attack on Iran over the nuclear issue or for an Iraq-style regime change, I have a favor to ask from our potential "liberators". If you must, at all cost, destroy our supposedly dangerous nuclear capabilities and perhaps kill a few thousand innocent Iranians in the process, please, please, please, also do something positive at the same occasion: Destroy the dam.
Believe me, that is the single target in Iran that you can hit without an outrage on the part of the naturally nationalist Iranian people. Cyrus the Great liberated the Jews from their Babylonian captivity and allowed them to live freely and practice their religion. It might be time for the descendants of those same Jews, who now finally have their own country to call home, to pay back their debt and save Cyrus's tomb. History will judge us all, but certainly any action is better than inaction under these circumstances. Comment
 McCAIN
Running on Inferno’s Platform
Soraya Sepahpour-Ulrich
April 20, 2007
"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate" (Abandon all hope, you who enter here)
Dante Alighieri – The Divine Comedy; ‘Inferno’
There is an inordinate frenzy to occupy the White House in 2009. Perhaps Mr. Bush’s overreach and abuse of Executive powers has inspired candidates; or it may simply be the idea of rescuing the United States from her various dilemmas. What is undeniable is that while some candidates may be sincere in their aspirations, others simply want a chance kill in our name. Twitching fingers ready to commit genocide, one presidential candidate had even been practicing how to commit mass murder to a tune.
Senator John McCain (R, Arizona) while on a campaign in N. Carolina, was videoed singing “bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran” to the tune of the Beach Boys “Barbara Ann” (AFP).
To this ‘hero’ of the Vietnam War, the White House means not only prolonging the Iraq war and the death of more Americans and slaughter of Iraqis, which he has strongly endorsed , but also the genocide of innocent Iranians. Given that he is lagging behind in fundraising, it comes as no surprise that he should target Iran, lie about Iran’s aspirations to destroy Israel, and hope to receive AIPAC’s blessings and be bank-rolled by them. No doubt, in spite of inciting mass murder, the mainstream media will boost his popularity with the backing of AIPAC, and he will be the frontrunner for the 2008 Republican elections. The war hero who learned nothing from Vietnam and the killing massacre that went on there.
It is up to us, the American people to evaluate our standing at home and in the world. Have we reached the ‘point of no return’, the gates of hell described by Dante, where the likes of McCain will lead our future to more lies and bloodshed? Not only has our country been run amok by the current Administration, but those who look to step into their shoes are planning to take us to far darker places. McCain is not only a United States Senator who represents the people of Arizona, but he is a high profile representative of the United States. What message are we giving to the world when presidential candidates walk around telling the world that America will “bomb, bomb, bomb” whomever they don’t like?
A man like McCain is not fit to hold political office. He is not above the law, and if he has disgraced the United States and his office, he should be asked to resign. If we continue on a self-destruct path of maintaining not only double-standards, but starting wars and occupations, we will find that we have indeed failed the inferno test. Should we fail to act now, then we are deserving of the fate that awaits us tomorrow through the politicians that will lead us to hell.
"Through me the way into the suffering city,
Through me the way to the eternal pain,
Through me the way that runs among the lost.
Justice urged on my high artificer;
My maker was divine authority,
The highest wisdom, and the primal love.
Before me nothing but eternal things were made,
And I endure eternally.
Abandon every hope, ye who enter here. Comment
 JUSTICE
Pious license to kill
Shahriar Zangeneh
April 19, 2007
The New York Times has a news item on its Thursday's front page that is old news to most, if not all, Iranians. The Islamic vigilantes in the pay of the state who had admitted to gruesomely stoning, drowning and burying alive five people to death were exonerated by the Islamic Republic's Supreme Court. The one page opinion affirms the right of the pious, explicitly granted in the Holy Book, to shed with impunity the blood of those they deem "morally corrupt".
Should an error of judgment have been committed by the pious, the victim's family is entitled to blood money compensation, Diyya, officially set by the state and adjusted annually to reflect inflation. The rate of compensation is based on the market value of camel, the hoofed animal, and doled out at the rate of full face value for male deceased and half of that for female or non-Moslems of officially tolerated religions; all others are not entitled to anything.
Those who have followed this case know the number of victims of this particular gang to be far greater than the five mentioned in the official documents. They also know that this is not an aberration; rather, it is the norm in the Islamic Republic.
What sets this latest publicly acknowledged episode apart from the others is the Islamic Supreme Court's ruling. Up till now the other cases were either not reported, were swept under the rug by the authorities, the victims were demonized posthumously and if all failed, a show trial was staged, a sentence announced and the culprit(s) never saw a day of incarceration, let alone capital punishment so favored by the Islamic courts.
Based on this Islamic Supreme Court's precedent setting ruling, vigilantism is now the official law of the land. One, any one of any race creed or color, can at any moment become a victim of any self proclaimed "pious" -- and, should by an outside chance be possible to prove that he was mistaken in his evaluation, as long as he has had good intention in enforcing the pious' unwritten code of conduct, blood money will be paid as proscribed by law and all will be well in the land of believers.
Perhaps the Lady Nobel Laureate, famed Iranian lawyer who rightly champions the cause of the incarcerated at Guantanamo Bay, would find the time to effectuate her often declared and yet not actuated threat of filing grievances at "relevant international entities". While she is contemplating the drafting of the long awaited complaint, in light of the recent ruling, she might want to extrapolate on her mantra of compatibility of Shariah jurisprudence with those of democratic values. Comment
 SHORT
The sulking sunflower
Ezzat Goushegir
April 19, 2007
A translation of one of my short short stories published this month in the bilingual section of Stylus, University of Maryland's Writers House anthology.
No sunflower has ever turned her face away from the sun, except this one in the corner of the prison yard. Her face leans on the wall, her frail stem curves towards us.
The seed fell in the prison yard from a pigeon’s beak when the bird heard the torturing sound of whipping lashes from the interrogation room.
The pigeon sighed and the sunflower seed, released from its mouth, fell in the empty prison yard. The seed felt deserted, and desired not to flourish. The seed preferred to remain barren. The seed was depressed. But drops of rain penetrated her body and whispered their soulful melodies:
-If you remain barren, you’ll integrate with the soil, and that’s it! The end of you!
The words swept away the sunflower seed’s misery. She grew under the sunless sky and her yellow petals blossomed.
Now the frail sunflower leans against the wall, sulking. We turn her face towards us to imagine the sun in her golden petals. We whisper to her: You’re the reflection of the Sun! But the bitter, resentful sunflower turns her face back to the wall again. The sunflower had never imagined she would be born and grown in this stark, framed yard, and die in silence.
I draw and embroider the image of the sulky sunflower facing the wall on a white piece of cloth to preserve the memory of her, to make her immortal.
A bird passes through our narrow window of sky. I wave the broidered handkerchief as a flag to let the bird know that the seeds of our lonesome sunflower are waiting for its beak to be taken and spread out into the vast sunny fields…
The bird sees the white handkerchief. Then a second bird, and a third. An army of birds see us. Each one flies down, each one takes a seed. Each one flies back to the sky.
Perhaps the sunflower will now turn her eyeless, pale face towards us! Perhaps she will have a smile on her invisible lips! Comment
Visit EzzatGoushegir.com
 NOTE
Checking out
Peyvand Khorsandi
April 18, 2007
Sorry to say goodbye like this. I had to rush for the train I threw myself under. In two to three days you’ll receive another packet with the DVD I made -- CCTV footage of my first suicide attempt, which failed (the 5.30 to Brighton was late). It also contains my final speech to the family. It is my wish for it to be played after the funeral. My last request is that Michael be barred from shovelling any earth on to my coffin. I know he would take a secret pleasure in this, nice though he is. If I hear those thuds I will never rest in peace.
I’ve put cash for Tim’s trumpet lessons in the microwave. It’s important that these continue. He has a future as a trumpet player. Perhaps, when he is sixteen, he can learn the harmonica. I wanted to learn an instrument, but I’m dead now. In a month or two -- whatever seems reasonable -- you and Michael will be shacked up together. He will become something of a father to Tim, I know. Mike has my blessing -- he’s a responsible sort. Still, I know you will honour my wish for Tim to learn the trumpet, well after my bugle has sounded.
Jenny, I hope you’ll read my instructions for the DVD player I’ve specially prepared for you. These manuals start off in Japanese, are translated into German, then French. By the time they reach English they are far from the writer’s intention -- how faithful to Ibsen’s original was my father’s stab at translating Ghosts into Persian from Yoruba. I remember reading Ghosts at college. The teacher said it was about “skeletons in the closet.” I didn’t know this was a metaphor. I read it and read it again -- but there were no skeletons in any closet.
In my coffin I want you to place a double-double burger from In-N-Out -- “animal style”, with grilled onions. I know that you can only get them in California. If you can’t UPS fast food internationally, I don’t want any other brand; but do make me a burger yourself. The thought of spending eternity without one upsets me -- it’s dark, I’ll need one. Fries would be good too, who cares if they get soggy. Forget all of my last wishes if you have to, but do stuff a burger in, for me, as a goodbye. Comment
Visit Peyvand Khorsandi's Soul Bean Café
 XXX
Porn, internet and children
Faramarz Fateh
April 17, 2007
For the third time, the attempt to change the domain names of sex/porn sites from .com, .net, .nl etc endings to .xxx has been stopped. You will be shocked when you find out which groups and organizations have been opposing this change. Church groups, search engine providers, first ammendment rights protection groups are amongst some of these organizations.
Over the past 3 years, some of the largerst porn site operators have made huge donations to churches to oppose this change. The logic they use is that if .xxx becomes the defacto address, children will find these sites easier.
Some groups claim that no one person or group has the right to determine what is pornography and what is not. Imagine a simple scheme where a non medical site has pictures or videos of men &/or women with any type of frontal nudity.
If such a site is classified under an address with .xxx ending, a very simple software filter will enable parents to exclude access to these sites, unless the parents want to expose their children to such information and/or imagry.
What prompted me to write about this issue was reading the reported results of a 20 year study done at a major U.S. university; in this report it was shown conclusively that 37% of children between the ages of 4 and 12 whom were exposed to graphical sex acts (such as seeing their parents during sex) or explicit sexual images had difficulty with sexual and emotional issues in their adolescent and adult lives. The effect was the same on male and female children.
Granted that not all kids are affected the same, but for God's sake 37% is an alarmingly high number. These days access to all kinds of graphic, explicit and some times sick pornographic imagry on the internet is only a couple of mouse clicks away. If you thought our generation or the ones before or after it has problems, just wait for the up-and-coming generation of kids who are 5 to 10 years old now.
For the sake of your children and grand children, please write to your senators and congressmen to urge them to pass legislation which requires classification of porn sites with .xxx endings. Comment
 PLAYBOY
Sex in Iran
A.M.
April 16, 2007
I have to confess that I do get Playboy every month -- love the articles. This month there is an article by Pari Esfandiari and Richard Buskin called "Sex In Iran". The online teaser reads: "A bootleg sex tape allegedly featuring a popular TV star [Zahra Amir-Ebrahimi] has been spreading through Iran like wildfire. The actress denies she's on the tape, but that's almost beside the point. The video has shaken Iranians by exposing their hidden emotions and double standards. In a fascinating peek at a modern Islamic society, we lift the veil on a conflicted culture in which religious fundamentalism wrestles with the allure of sexual freedom." I tried to find a copy on line, but that's all I found. If you buy this month's edition you can see the whole article with a great pic at the begining. Comment
 DESIRE
The Champagne Room
Laleh Banoo
April 14, 2007
Irony of ironies is that life is pretty sexless lately. I've got all the trappings of an excellent sex life (female, young, pretty, own apartment, first-name-basis relationship with local Agent Provocateur salesgirls) but like a Champagne room, there's no sex up in here. Of course that makes me think about it nonstop, even more than before. I met a guy a couple of months ago that I got along with pretty well and we fucked through Lent with some regularity and it was pretty awesome. Big dick, lots of stamina, sexiness devoid of lecherousness (so rare). But Easter brought me back to Earth, where I realized it's time to get serious and stop just fucking around and time to start looking for something deeper, so I decided to part ways. It sucks to end it with someone that's been inside you, even if you don't even like him much. But I did like this guy, a lot. He wasn't Iranian and that ended up being the problem for me. That and there are only so many marathon sex sessions you can have before you need more.
Recent learnings include that I'm convinced all the Iranian men I'm into are probably sexy 30-year-olds working in banking, preferably in London; the only plausible explanation for why these stateside Persians don't cut it for me, besides the fact that you need to quit waxing your eyebrows and cut your damn pinky nails, guys. So it's been a little depressing. Maybe I should date an Iranian comedian because at least they're better at seeing cultural ironies like the mysterious long pinky nail, but they're even more depressing than the effete ones, except for one that I can think of and he's just right but... the geography doesn't work, and I'm not sure he'd like me (the real Laleh, that is, not this sex-obsessed internet persona). I wonder if I'd even really be able to get it on with a Persian guy at this point. It might just be too awkward. Well, that's that, then.
But I am proud to report I've expanded my porn-watching repertoire to include lots of threesomes (2 boys and 1 girl, 2 girls and 1 boy, 3 girls) and... gay boys! It's more about good-looking people doing it and looking as though they're having a good time going at it, regardless of their parts. I also have been doing the girl-girl personals thing, to no avail. There are a lot of really repulsive-looking girls out there, and it seems either they're not aware of it or just amazingly confident, so I haven't met anyone in person. Oh, and the final report is that my vibrator finally worked for me. Thank God. If anyone has any tips for finding interesting girls to make out with, you know who needs them. Comment
 LIFE
Allmanie haircut
Amir Rostam Begli Beigie
April 10, 2007
One of the many problems of men's aging process is the loss of hair. No matter how modest a man, its onset is never pleasant. With this in mind and with a hint of nostalgia for my young days I went for a change of style.
I use a traditional men's barber shop, none of your trendy salons. Knowing they would not understand 'Allmanie' and the translation would render me quite mad in their eyes - I am Eyeranian requiring the haircut of a WW-II German soldier because as every Iranian boy knows they were the bravest - so asked for a short back and sides plus a partition for the receding top. Amazing how the fascist lore had survived (possibly even to this day) in Iran 30 years after the war (for a very highly readable of the origins of German influence in Iran, read Setting the East Ablaze by Peter Hopkirk).
About 30 mins later I had my Allmanie hairstyle. I had not looked like that since the age of 6. When it used to take 4 people to cut my hair, a barber and three assistants: one assistant holding my head, the remaining two holding down a shoulder each as I was and am very ticklish.
Although I had promised myself to stick with it for a few weeks, I just could not stand it and in spite of promises to the wife to give it a chance, I sneaked quietly in the bathroom one night and changed the top back to my usual crew cut.
I had always thought it funny that some men tried to hide their baldness by sweeping their heir sideways from top of one ear to the next. So let my round head shine, who cares.
I had also became very aware how all the ex-Islamic Students society geeks and thugs all still adorn the Allmanie haircut, it is quite possible that I have gone mad but take a look at the hair styles Antarinejad, Larijani, and the new hardline wannabes, all maintaining the style albeit with the obligatory fleabag of a beard.
How did the seemingly loopie minority of odd looking (always wearing grey polyester suites and white shirts with the Allmanie hair style) zero-sexed underachievers go from high school geeks to idealogues to revolutionaries to hostage takers to murderers to high government posts? The mind boggles.
The geek not the meek shall inherit the earth. Comment
 FOUND
A note from me to my father
Houshang Shirvanpour
April 9, 2007
I never got the chance to get to know my father. My father died when I was only one-year old (he was only 27). A few pictures and what my mother and my relatives have said about him are the only facts I know about him. People, who like me, have lost their fathers when they were too young know this feeling of loss. I'm 44-years old now, but still can feel the sorrow and loss now and then.
I've been living abroad during the last 20 years. Two years ago I went back to Iran for the first time after 18 years. My father and my mother were deeply in love. I knew my father had sent my mother lots of love letters when they were engaged and even when they were married. My father was an army officer and had to be away from his family now and then. I knew my mother kept the letters. She never could accept the fact that my father is dead. Even though she married again -- with a very understanding and nice man, and they are still married, -- she could never forget my father.
I had seen these letters a few times and she had let me read a couple of them when I lived in Iran. This time I asked her if I could read all of them. She said I could and she let me take the letters with me when I returned from Iran. It took me a long time to read all the letters. There are many and they are full of passionate love.
I found this astonishing note between the letters. It is a note from me to my father that is written with a pen in my hand (I was just a few months old then), and my mother writing the content:
"Dear Samad, these two lines were
written by Amir for his beloved father:
'Dear Papa, Salam. I kiss my beautiful Papa
from afar. We are expecting you. Don't keep us
waiting. If you don't come, Mom will become sad'."
I can't explain the feeling when I saw this note. It just shows that my father has been a living person and not a fantasy figure you have heard about, and most importantly I have communicated with him! Comment
 FOOTBALL
One wish down 99 to go!
Shahireh Sharif
April 9, 2007
Read this to see how things were about six months ago (although the piece is not edited brilliantly!). That was then and this is now: on 7th April 2007 Andranik Teymourian scored his first English premiership goal for Bolton Wanderers and he did it twice!!!!!
Interestingly, Andranik was not transferred directly to Bolton from Persepolis or Esteghlal (Tehran’s two most supported football clubs). To me this has made the progress of an Ex-Abu Moslem player even sweeter, as contrary to common belief, Andranik has shown that football does not just happen in these two clubs. It is safe enough to say that Persepolis or Esteghlal clubs are considered by a lot of people as the only two important football clubs in the country! Hence, Andranik’s presence in a European league might potentially be motivating for other young Iranian footballers, who do not play in these clubs.
Watching Andranik’s transformation as a football player has been amazing. In fact allow me to go even one step further and call it nothing short of a metamorphism. Seeing his interview on TV straight after the 7th April match was something out of this world; he has beaten Kevin Davies for this spot (well done!).
The experience of the Reebok stadium as a Bolton supporter has been joyful. It is amazing to witness supporters cheering on Andranik during the game. For me the excitement carries on even after the match, when fans ask Andranik for his autograph, wow! I know this is just football, but can’t help feeling proud of him as a fellow countryman. Maybe success is a contagious commodity after all.
As far as I know Andranik is the only Iranian who has scored in the English Premier league, whilst playing for an English club. This is enough to make us (a group of Iranians supporting Bolton) remember his name for a long time. Of course, we are hoping for him to go further and to make the supporters admire him even more.
Whatever the future holds, one thing is for sure, he has made sitting on the seats of the Reebok stadium, whilst shivering in the cold and getting wet under the rain, a worthwhile experience. He still has a long way to go but with his enthusiasm and perseverance he certainly gets my vote of confidence. For now let us just watch the space and hope for even more. Comment
 BLOGGER
Enjoying absolute freedom of expression?
Kianosh Saadati
April 9, 2007
A quick look at the Hoder's posts within last few months reflects this fact that he might be done with the Persian blog community or even cyberspace.
He simply slams and swears at anyone whose ideas do not necessarily correspond to his. From monarchists to reformists and from most prominent journalists and cartoonists to various political and academic figures are being slammed by him, and sometimes serious charges without any evidence are laid on them. Why is this happening?
No doubt, he is enjoying absolute freedom of expression on cyberspace. But the problem is that he only wants this freedom for himself and not anyone else!! In his opinion, every one outside Iran is connected to the US, Britain and other political powers and they pay them millions of dollars to initiate propaganda against the Islamic republic.
The question is what if they paid himself ?? Indeed they did when he was in charge of Rooz Online internet service but he abandoned them. Maybe he shifted to other ones because they paid him or PROMISED TO PAY HIM more!
We are not in a position to charge him or even ask him to abandon this attitude .We do not have any evidence indicating he is connected to the regime, but no doubt he is extremely angry and furious about other fellows who have achieved a prominent place on the Persian blog community. He is desperate to be taken seriously but virtually no one does so.
Maybe he is claiming all the credit for the Persian blog simply because he started writing a few macros before others, but it is time for him to pay the price -- the price of making too many enemies for himself and being expelled from the Blog community. Maybe he is already done with cyberspace. It is simply a matter of time. Comment
 HELP!
Pashm-less spring almonds -- please
Sean Amour
April 7, 2007
It is spring time -- and time for Chaaghaaleh-baadoom (spring almonds).
Why is it that all Persian shops in the US sell the spring almonds covered with wool (pashm) -- a very difficult thing to remove. If you eat all that "pashm", you get a stomach ache.
In Iran, the guys sell the Chaaghaaleh-baadoom in a big tray -- and the young almonds are all smooth green with no pashm. How do they do it?
Can anyone tell me how you can get those smooth/green Chaagaaleh-baadoom -- if you live in the US or anywhere outside Iran? What is the secret? How do they do it in Iran, and why can't we duplicate it outside Iran?
I even tried pumice (sang-e-paa) and sand-paper (sombaad'e). It did not work.
Quite frankly, how do you get baby almonds to be as green and smooth as the vendors do in a large trays at spring time in Iran?
Anybody has a clue? Comment
Farshad writes:
In Iran, they use burlap sacs (Gooni). The almonds are first kept in water for a day then they are placed in the sac and then they are rolled over and over by hand with a little force. The process takes a few hours and very labor intensive. You must start with a few pounds minimum to get the results.
Ali Parsa writes:
Here is what may help you to enjoy your green almonds.
May I first suggest that you use Kork or fuzz in place of Pashm. I never heard of Iranian using Pashm.
Second, as I remember they used KashkSabi in Iran which is a v-shaped earthenware bowl made in a way that the glazed surface inside is rogh(I do not know how they make it rough). Kashksabi is a household utensi in Iranian kitchen for reconstituting dry Kashk for Asheh Reshteh, etc.
Then a mixture of green fuzzy baby almonds and some water is placed inside the bowl.
Then the scrubbing motion is done by hand. A handful of almonds and water is is gently brought up and down (under the water) making sure that they are scrubbed against the surface and in time you should see the fuzz suspended in water leaving you with shaved baby almonds, if you will.
Unless someone else has come up with another way, that is the latest technology I suggest for the task.
I am sure one could come up with an alternate method given the simplicity of the task in question.
Of course some may want to put up with bearded almond than going through this process if their stomach can handle the fuzz.
Wishing you baby almond joy!
Ali A. Parsa
 LIFE
At night
Sheema Kalbasi
April 6, 2007
I want to disappear one day before my birthday arrives and arrive at your place and be handed to you like a gypsy's crystal ball. You know my cousin married a gypsy before I was born. She fell in love with the lover of the lakes and lands. I had never met her and we didn't have her picture. I only know of a woman who left with the wind and perhaps died at a mountain hill. I wonder how your hands would hold the crystal ball. The ball that can fall and break into pieces, like the body of a little girl across the town whose home was ruined by the bombs. I saw that house. My parents took us to see what the bombs did and how deep they could dig into the heart of Tehran, four floors and a half of the apartments next door. There had been a birthday party in the house we were told. And again the next day my father had to go to stand in the line to buy milk and eggs with the family coupon that was the gift of the Islamic revolution to each Iranian family. And again at midnight we were awakened by the sounds of bomb alarms and the wait to know if death would knock at our door or not. If not we could have the eggs and the milk either bought by the coupons or at the black market, the punishing black. I want to know how you will discover me and depart at night. I want to know how your fingers will hold the crystal ball and my breasts. How will you move your lips on my face before disappearing down between my thighs, my thighs that are as tall as are the Persepolis Pillars.
How many years have passed since those nights when feather dusters and chairs shook alike at midnight? How many years have passed since my father painted or covered the car lights in blue when driving to grandmother who lived on her own? Life back then had turned into a blackboard with multiple crossings and o's, the o's being my fists and those crucified by the religion and ideologies. Tired wrinkles on the people's face, cloths that were not ironed out because there was no electricity, and thick mustaches of men who in earlier years were communists and later had their balls sliced and handed to them on plates. We watched how the virgin blood was made into blood cakes with sticky rice and how noses were cut and hands were chopped off by the regime and the bombs, a combination of the extraordinary to begin each day without recalling the sins. I am coming down on you now to have you inside my mouth. To bring you to a satisfaction now that the lights are on and the bombs have stopped. I clean the house from my memories. I sing as I mop your floors and shake my bosom. I play a song and dance to the rhythm. I am the combination of my land and the bombs. If you drop the crystal ball, the gypsy will not read again. The gypsy will wander out and her tracks will just get lost. Hold the crystal ball, the ball and the gypsy who are both this woman who is in love. Caress me, let me love you before my pen becomes eternal and flies with the wind. This is not the last call. I will fold my body around yours as my poetry crystallizes your life.
I am rooted in your heart. Comment
Visit HowItGoesNaked.blogspot.com
 IRANICA
We love you, but...
Ramin Tabib
April 6, 2007
Mr. Ashraf:
I read with great interest your response to the AP article on Mr. Yarshater. You scared them sir, and that cc to an attorney at the end probably compelled Associated Press to sit up and take notice.
But I have a couple of problems with your response. You acted with great zeal to discredit the letter of the AP article but to myslef and thousands of others - who rather not decive ourselves - the intent of the article remains valid:
1- Mr. Yarshater was born Bahai. All the power to him, without Bahais Iran would be worse than it is now, but he was born a Bahai, is a Bahai and will one day die a Bahai. 100 years from now, when he is gone, I doubt his family will declare that he was a reformed Shiite or a born again Christian. Just like I am a Muslim, a Shiite, and if I reach a prominent position in academia, business or any other field I cannot deny my faith-heritage. It's a sad disposition but one we are bound to accept.
2- NEH is government agency, hence its .GOV web address and its self-description that "NEH is an independent grant-making agency of the United States government dedicated to supporting research, education, preservation, and public programs in the humanities". NEH may claim itself independent but how independent can government agency be from its state supporter. Again more power to you and NEH for the Iranica project, but you can't paint a horse and sell it as a zebra. NEH is one of the agencies of the US government, period and it pays for chunk of Iranica's budget.
And if you want to bargain that one-third of the budget is better than half then go ahead, but be it 1/10 of the budget or 9/10 of it, you are state supported. The taxpayers pay the state and the state pays NEH and NEH pays you. It is not very hard to stretch our minds and accept the fact that the US government is you sugar daddy.
Again, we love your work, we have no right to criticize where your budget comes from, nor any qualms as to how you raise your funds, but treat us like intelligent adults and call a spade, a spade. I personally am happy that Iranica's sugar daddy is the US government and not the French, nor the British, nor god-forbid the IRI.
3- Encyclopedia Iranica is not supported by the Iranian government. We grant that. We know that and we agree with it. It is a work that emphasizes Iranian-ness and national heritage and history. But I personally can't agree with you that IRI is neutral toward your project, how can it be?
The state sanctioned ideology of IRI which has for 30 years dissuaded its people from anything nationalistic (melli) and sanctioned all things Islamic (maktabi) cannot endorse a secular project such as Iranica. And if IRI is not for something than it is against it. IRI knows no neutrality, it is the nature of the beast - it can't help it. And Iranica cannot escape that fact. It is abhorred by the Iranian government. It's sad, we know, but it's true. We don't care if you don't care but let's not deny it.
At the end, please keep the torch lit, and we will all support you both mentally and monetarily. It'd be cool if you stepped down from your high horse and look at us eye to eye. We don't care about your colors, your pocket book, or who paid for last night's dinner, as long as you won't pull a sheet over our heads. Comment
 SAILORS
Treated like royalty
Hadi Panah
April 5, 2007
Score another victory for Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. He announced Wednesday that, "on the occasion of the birth anniversary of the great prophet of Islam, and on the occasion of Easter and Passover, I would like to announce that the great nation of Iran, while it is entitled to put the British military personnel on trial, has pardoned these 15 sailors and gives their release to the people of Britain as a gift."
While Prime Minister Tony Blair and President Bush screamed of violations of international law, the truth of the matter is that the British hostages were treated like royalty compared to the treatment given to "enemy combatants", Quantanamo and Abu Gharaib prisoners and poor souls that are picked up as part of the CIA's rendition program.
So much for Mahmoud being "Hitler Jr." as Sean Hannity likes to call him. Deep down inside he must be burning, knowing that this make Iran look good and reasoned. And to drive the dagger deeper, they were released for Easter, guess we can throw out Iranians being anti-Christian.
Every Iranian (or Persians as they would like to be known in Beverly Hill and Westwood), regardless of their religious and political affiliation should proudly brag about Iran's treatment of the 15 British sailors. Yes, this is inclusive of the self appointed pretender to the CIA's throne in Iran, Reza Pahlavi and the treasonous members of the MLK. Stand up and show the world that while the Iranian regime is made up of certain crack-pot clerics and nut jobs, at least they know how to treat prisoners.
Let us put out this challenge to Mr. Pahlavi and Ms. Rajavi. They should publicly speak up and illustrate to the world that regardless of the faults, atrocities and crimes of the current regime, it does not act irrationally or without logic. They don't have the cajones or the interest to do so. They are simply opportunists riding the current wave of anti-Iran hysteria hoping to be swept into power.
At least compared to the American and British treatment of prisoners, the Iranian despots have one leg up on them. For Mr. Pahlavi and Ms. Rajavi's silence, as khejalat bayad bemeeran. Comment
SAILORS
Wam bam thank you Mahmoud
Shahriar Zangeneh
April 4, 2007
It is hard for me to admit it, but truth being the greatest emancipator, admit I shall. By George, after nearly thirty years and numerous trial and errors The Islamic Republic of Iran has got it down pat, well, sort of. Just as the mass media was getting comfy with calling the fifteen British naval personnel detained by the IRI, as hostages, they were bedazzled by the magnanimity of none other than Manhoud "Motor Mouth" Ahmadinejad's "presidential pardon".
The pardoned fifteen immediately got a farewell/ thanks a bunch audience with the president. Their ill fitting pardon suits aside, thankfully the thorny question of under what constitutionally sanctioned authority did the motor mouth grant the pardon did not come up (under article 110/11 of the illustrious constitution that privilege belongs to the Dear Supreme Leader, aka, His Velayatness). Nor was there any mention of the forty eight hour deadline set by London which was met with few hours to spare.
On the pomp and circumstances side, ala IRI, during the presidential press conference, the "brave" Revolutionary Guard commanders got IRI's "bravery" medals for capturing the British naval forces replete with their two rubber dinghies, small arms, and at least one Ground Positioning System (GPS). That which the IRI has got down pat is to combine many aspects of their not too well scripted, but, too often tried ordeal into one grand jamboree like setting.
Prior to this presidential news conference/ pardon/ medal ceremony/usual diatribe, the show was serialized and was dragged out over many months and in the case of hapless Iranian citizens, years. Now, at least in the case of non-Iranians, a wam bam thank you mam ceremony does it all. That to me is a sign of progress. Now only if those "brave" revolutionary commanders could mosey on up to the Caspian Sea and do something brave about Iran' share of resources which thanks to their Russian allies have been reduced from fifty to twelve percent. Comment
 LIFE
Three thousand years of civilization
Sanaz Samali
April 3, 2007
When I left my country of birth, Iran, back in 1987, I wanted to get away from all things Iranian. I told my father that I would rather live in a tent in America than live in our comfortable home in the north of Tehran. I was only fifteen years old at the time suffered from what I call "tabeh gharb", west fever. After spending some time in Ankara, Turkey with my parents, I was finally granted a visa to come to the United States. Upon returning to Hotel Tondovan in Ankara, a popular hotel regularly occupied by Iranians who were seeking visas to the U.S., I became the envy of every girl who was turned down by the U.S. Consulate. I thought that day was the greatest day of my life. I had my ticket to freedom from the Islamic regime's decree on abandoning all things western. So I left the war and the Ayatollahs behind along with my home, my family, and my friends and came to the United States. Despite the fact that I left Iran, my struggles were far from over.
Embarrassed by what I saw on television about my country and the views of the western world on Iran, I began to turn away from my culture. I got rid of my accent and changed my name to an American name. I even responded to those who inquired about my nationality that I was Persian; hoping that they do not associate Persian with Iranian. In the process of avoiding my roots, I lost my freedom once more. My spirit became entangled in this web of negativity that surrounded me. Every time, I turned on the television, picked up a newspaper or talked with those who were close to me, I was confronted with what I had escaped from. The images of the bearded mullahs, the women who wore black chadors and shouted anti-American slurs and the news of the Iraqi army using chemical weapons on the Iranians, hunted me once more. I also encountered the misguided views of the west that Iran is a barren, oil-rich desert occupied by bearded war-lords who rule this poor, starving, uneducated, uncivilized and anti-American people. Fortunately for me, that was not how I remembered Iran.
So today, 20 years after I left my homeland, when I am approached by one who wants to talk about Muslim fanatics, terrorism, nuclear weapons, the Ayatollahs, Ahmadinezhad and Hezballah, I politely change the topic of conversation to the great Iranian philosopher, Avecena, the rich history of this ancient land, the beautiful landscapes of northern Iran, Persian carpets, Ferdowsi's Shahnameh, and Norouz. I also remind the ones who insist of being critical of the Iranians that after the bloody 1979 revolution and an eight year long war with Iraq, people of Iran are just not ready to stand up again and face more suffering. As for my self, I find that even though I have not gone back to my home country in 20 year, I am not ready to give up my pride in being Iranian. Because this I believe that we, Iranians, will always have our 3,000 years of civilization and should not allow the last 30 years to hinder our pride. Comment
LIFE
Sizdah Bedar
Sheema Kalbasi
April 2, 2007
Every Sizdah Bedar I am sick. It is become my genetic code to have fever on the thirteenth day of this Persian celebration of the spring festival. The oldest memory of my first sickness on this day goes back to one of these Sizdah Bedars. Driving near Tehran after having Baghali polo --a dish of baby lima bean with dill rice and meat, the common cuisine for the day-- I saw a Haji Firooz, a painted face character in his red costume who is the traditional herald of the Nowruz season singing and dancing. Maybe it was watching the children jumping around him or maybe it was an incident from half an hour earlier that made me feel dizzy and sick. A group of armed Pasdars (revolutionary guards) had come to the area where families were sitting, and children were playing. The Pasdars had started screaming, punching, beating, and arresting a group of young men and women because they were not married or were not blood Mahrams (the legal terminology in the Islamic sharia for the permanent seven Mahrams, with whom a woman may not be sexual i.e. father, step father, brother, father-in-law, son, step son, or a man the woman has shared the nursing milk as an infant). The area was where up until the year of revolution my parents would take us for picnics, and to watch Shah's army Para shooters falling off the sky. The images were incredibly stunning and to me a little girl they were the Peter Pans of the blue and white. After what I observed on that Sizdah Bedar, seeing a Haji Firooz who historically is known to be the fire keeper has became a reminder of those injured men and women. Maybe on each Sizdah Bedar I have fever because it reminds me how the green grass can be painted by red blood.
Today in the U.S. the thirteenth day of the Persian New Year has arrived again but I haven't prepared Baghali polo. I have fever since yesterday. My body is hot yet I want to make love to you. I want to make love to you ten years ago, and ten years from now. I want to feel safe in your hands, to rest on the bed with a glass of water next to me. You come to me, lick my dry lips wet, put your fingers in the glass and circulate it on my cheeks, behind my ears, drawing lines on my forehead in slow motions. I am naked. You come on top to enter me. Inside me is hot. Inside me burns even more. I want you to repeat my name. I want you to read to me your words. I need your memory, not a memory, or any memory; I need to have this memory of being with you. I want my hands, your hands, and the pen to beat on the paper. I want you to teach me how to love you more. To me your love is my life itself a reality as well as an inspirational happening.
I want to be virgin of all the memories, and the life experiences but you. I want to be a markless paper and be marked by you. I want my past, present, and the future to have your name on it. I want to have a body that can be made love to by you uninterruptedly. I want to have a heart that has one city's name on it, the city where you ARE at any given time. I have been handed this love generation after generation to find you somewhere close or even from far to let you know of the truth. Take away the roaming features of Sizdah Bedar from my memory. I want to survive the aching for my homeland from the edge of this country.
Draw me closer. I love you. Comment
Visit HowItGoesNaked.blogspot.com
>>> Shorts archive
|
