Sunday, October 19, 2008


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When a politician decides to serve his country, in a leadership position, what he is really doing is putting himself under a voluntary "deep cover" project within the 'other' that he is trying to gain confidence from.  

There is no such thing as the "American People" There are only numbers.  Whoever gets to play the part of 'Number One'  in the great theatre that is politics, is simply pandering to the modern tastes of the cyber punk crowd.

What a toothless bunch of cyber punks we've turned out to be!
If I chose to wrench my life out of its comfy living style, would I do it for curiosity?  I wonder if any president has ever said "I wonder if they'll let me be president next year?

President of what exactly? Isn't there necessarily a 'class' that is being 'administered' 

I was class president. I was nominated in eighth grade while I was napping on my table.  I was number 3 in my class..naturally smart, well-read, no effort needed.  Number 2 was a rote-memorizer, and Number 1 was a girl called Layal, who sometimes switched places with Number 2.

The real reason that I was constantly number 3 was because I broke the code of my Finals:  There's really no pressure.. If a teacher likes you, she's going to pass you! I became framed from then: If I don't want to run through these loops: Then the system can go to hell! They don't have such a thing as a beating stick anymore! So for my final exams, I would barely study for my Arabic classes..I'd do the memorization, finish the grammar section, and then cruise past the poetry....only to come to the giant section called Composition.

Now here's where I floundered, because A: the questions were so banal and barely understandable to me and, B: There was the question of: I've never BEEN in the situation they're asking me to write about.

For example, "Write about the beauty of the park while on a picnic with your family"

Now this question is so difficult to answer when you're a young renaissance man.  Well: The beauty of the park while I'm on a picnic with my family?

Well. Firstly, you've got to understand that the question that needs to be answered is about something that I've never experienced, until now: Well I didn't have the ability to put up a hyperlink to a photoalbum that I spent time picturing, and appreciating the wonderful qualities of:  Because as a kid, I didn't think of descriptions as a form of coded imagery. 

That was garbage! I thought of descriptions as a method of story telling, and that was it:  I didn't have the vocabulary to discuss the playing of light and sound on the earth, and the symmetrical beauty of the plants, the frolicking laissez-faire attitudes of the ducks on their final practice run down a stretch of river before, finally, launching into their journey south.

The sad thing is that the English department was reticent in giving equally difficult assignments..Because then I'd be able to breeze through the arabic portion.  You see I relied heavily on English in order to translate straight into AraBIC.  But during the Final Exam, you see, I decided to be cool.  One day I said "Fuck it" during a Mid term, and I just left the room 40 minutes early. 

The teacher said "you could've written anything and your mark would have been way higher!"

The next period of examinations was the Final exam.  Then I decided to write a few empty sentences just to secure a 70...And I did it! It was so simple to do! 

But I was still always 3rd.

And In my capacity for student government, I managed to organize the entire 3 sets of classes, negotiated between the head teachers of all the disciplines, and boldly suggested that the classes go on a giant field trip to wonderland in Dubai!

Well we did it!

Then on the way back, the satiated and happy children rebelled on me! They started tormenting me in the bus! I was trying hard to be a good example and they knew that they had me in a Vice Grip.  Other than that, I feel that, maybe, Omar Raggal had way too much sugar and got slightly jealous of my cool hat that I bought, with Indiana Jones Flaps to cover the neck.

And that no matter how HARD he tried...There would be no way that he could ever organise such a huge thing himself.  Because of how hard he tried....things got in his way, just for the sake of it.  Because I tried only as much as was necessary, and allowed things to take their course, then things worked out well...until the end. (There is a darker, under-belly, to this story, that bears mentioning: I have never been the same ever sine, the pressures of being a good boy versus being a bad boy versus being a victim versus being a victimiser really took its toll.  I became much more complex and yet, so very simple, after that affair.

Finally, I must return to my original topic:  I don't believe that the people who volunteer to be politicians have any false impressions: They all know that there's a much higher Common Denominator: Whatever YOU want it to be! 

I organized the logistics to take 100 people on a free organized bus tour: The vagrants in each class had to be convinced not to rebel openly in class for 3 weeks, and I succeeded.

I think those bastards realised oh so late, that they had been beaten by one of their own.  In that way, I feel as if they banded together for the common goal: Teach Dr.Oats a Lesson.

Well, I was out of there, I left that system, and all those people, long behind me.. 

I hope they're well.

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