My best friend's new book, a novel, a great funny thriller.

Cover illustration by the great book illustator Shirin Adl, (Saramad)

May I have your attenion please!

Do you remember what we talked about on Dec13 and Dec16 2005 about the unforgivable crime of suicide in Christianity? I don’t think so, anyway the articles are still down here and you can check it out if you like. Needles to say that the argument had not and still hasn’t any thing to do with the horrible and apparently unpreventable emotional act of suicide killings that unfortunately we all see and hear about in recent years; no, the argument was a logical debate, if you like.
Now my learned honorable friends! Listen to this:
The catholic church of Rome and the agents of that great messenger of love and passion and above all that great advocate of God’s kindness and FORGIVNESS, those holy fathers who do not, and will never, deny the serial killers and the mass murderers and those who have committed crimes against humanity, those nice people who do not deny any of these criminals the last prayer and the forgiving and sin washing ceremonies, condemn an innocent man who, because of chronic painful illness and that unbearable perpetual torture, in short because of living in hell for so long, has begged his doctor to let him loose to disconnect him from those horrible so called life saving machines! (The money making machines for the private hospitals, which is another ugly and sad story,) This poor innocent guy is unforgivable because of his despicable heinous crime! not being able to take it any more. True believers(?) or the machines, or maybe they are afraid that if they alow the slightest change there will be no stopping (?) Because of so much... and "this" goes for all of them of course; all religions are the same because of one god. aren't they? If it's true that is.

BBC NEWS, Dec23-06:
Italy's Roman Catholic Church has denied the right to a religious funeral to a terminally ill man whose fight to die sparked a fierce euthanasia debate.
Now the good news - bad news:
The good news is that I expect no comments my dears, because I know that most people feel at least uneasy, if not afraid understandably, to express opinion about these heavenly, celestial matters!
And the "bad" news is the subject itself. Or maybe we shoud say ridiculous instead of "bad"? I don't know.

First I wanted to leave a comment on the weblog of my great intelligent internet friend Shirin, but I got excited and the comment went out of hand and got too long so I decided to write it on my own blog; although the summer is not over yet and the writing season has not begun! But some things are so really ugly and dirty and disgusting and so very too much beastly and criminal, like massacring the totally defenseless women and children and even bombing the UN peacekeepers head quarters (who are not of course American and not European, sub species?) just to tell Mr. Koffi that he shouldn't even try to stop the daily massacre. These brutal ugly facts really and badly hurt even the worst heartless godless kinds of creatures like me, every where. See how bad they are(?)
Like what those shameless ruthless people did to Lebanese cities for weeks and killed their defenseless people. Like targeting women and children even in their night shelters, using precision penetrating laser bombs, to show plainly that they are trying to kill as much Lebanese as they can, as they are allowed to; apparently allowed by that little pupet lady who has been chosen for the post because she still cannot, and never will, believe that she is a real secretary of stat. She has been chosen to say things that his master doesn’t like to say, doing the dirty work you may say, so she obeys his master no matter how stupid she may look in the eyes of people even in her own country.
Anyway.
Have any of you seen Mike Wallace, (from NBC or CBS?), interview with the Iranian president? That old veteran reporter said and asked some unbelievably stupid things that absolutely amazed us all non-stupids of the world. It showed how really brain washed even the old experienced guy was; a few times during the interview he apparently became ashamed of his way of looking at things or at least by his questions. In some stages he accepted sincerely that he had never thought about this or that, that or this way. Anyway the video is on the BBC web log if you like to hear his exact words and see his sometimes amazed face, both because of some questions and because of some answers too. We are fair people, guys!
Once he told or asked the president this, said something like this:
Mr. president! I see that in Tehran people live in peace and enjoy life, when Tehran is like this, how come you approve Hezbollah rocketing cities?(!) and killing INNOCENT PEOPLE(!) and bombard their houses?(!) Do you approve this killing, and ruining of BEIRUT by Hezbollah?(!!!!!!!) (!*7)
So that's the reason that the Lebanese love Hezbollah so much and are proud of them: because of killing them and ruining the infrastructure of their capital Beirut! Now I understand, I can see clearly now!
Really ridiculous and stupid I'm sorry to say.

And by the way about the comedy in the London airport, in Heathrow, too childish! Don't you think so?
The "unstupid" people, those who do not accept what ever the T.V. feeds them with open mouths, say: "How convenient and ON TIME this show is really; to make the British hate the oppressed Moslems, (new artificial world threat in absence of the communism threat,) even more. What was the plot, RELLY? Where is the smallest evidence? The funny thing is that although they have shown anything that they like and they will do that whenever they feel like it, for instance showing hand made bombs or toothpaste nuclear devices! Or baby bottle atomic bombs! they haven't shown ANYTHING to legitimize, at least to backup, their strange sudden claim. The claim is something like this:
"Some bad guys, (Muslims of course and fascist too!) wanted to hurt us, why? because you know, they don't like and approve our [FREEDOM] and [OUR WAY OF LIFE]!! (Hiding the real reason from common people as always) But our excellent intelligence and our fine police commanders, who by the way had failed badly the last time and in the resulting anger, had shot that innocent electrician five-six times in the chest and head just for the hell of it, anyway our awake police force discovered the "Air Plot" and IMMEDIATELY arrested twenty five really surprised Moslems kids!
Now that's what I call, my friends, a very good and fast intelligence and police work.

Honestly people! Except some ridiculous claims like we found this and that on that rounded vast bush, the so called crime scene, the back up theatre of Heathrow, what have they shown for their claim?
Those poor kids they have arrested in their schools, although they do not know anything about any plot, they have to wait in prison until the police and home office find a way to let them go without losing more face. May be they have let them go but do not like to tell the public yet! fearing the question: "Why on earth did you arrested them in the first place?! What happened to the terrorist attack on England-USA airlines then?etc?..."
They are waiting for us to forget the whole thing, [like 9/11plot], they want us to just remember that part about the Moslems being the enemy of freedom and civilization!! and that they must be eliminated very soon!
DON'T YOU THINK SO MY OPEN MINDED FRIENDS? THOSE WHO ARE NOT PLAIN STUPID I MEAN.

"Beebee! bezanesh, shaayad narr baasheh."
"Lady! shoo it off, it might be male."
Told my mildly disgusted seventy years old great grand father to my sixty years old great grand mother when a silly cat was fooling around her legs, at 9am in March 21, 1926.

This is serious people.
I have devoted this post to some one I love and respect very much, to a man who has been so badly hurt and now is so badly upset and angry as result of inhumanly behavior of a so-called professional who has no professional morals, no honesty, the one that has done bad things to me too in the past, but not as bad as he has done to my friend this last time. This was the last straw, as they say, that explodes and ruins all tolerance and forgiveness. I myself decided not to go to this dentist any more before he does something and make me mad and make me do something that is not in my nature. Anyway because this lenient tolerant man has no one else to turn to and complain about this ugly injustice and because I know that he is right and he is telling the truth, I let him say some thing here at least, a kind of catharsis you may call it for some one who is a gentleman and doesn't approve of brutal revenge (until he is able to control his anger of course,) and tries to respect peoples privacy but every thing has limits as we say here, and he is human after all, not like the God's son who was able to tolerate peoples stupidity and rascality to the end. I just asked him one thing, I said please write it in two parts, asked him to wait a few days and then say his last word. Maybe some readers suggest something a solution? It's very serious guys really, and it is a big bad problem.

Hi, first I must ask you to excuse my English (instead of French! As they say,) I'm so upset and angry that I'm not able to express myself properly, forgive me for that.
To all you good unfortunate people who may need to go to a certain DENTIST, one in a hundred or thousand maybe, but he exists all the same I'm sorry to say.
Be aware my fellow citizens of a certain DENTIST whom I might name at last against my will and against my principles, that I take very seriously by the way. I have to do this for humanity's sake, no kidding or exaggeration, to prevent him from doing these really ugly things that he does to those poor people who trust him, those who don't know other honest respectable dentists, the majority. I must warn you about a few things that he might do to you if you trust him all the way down and not knowing what kind of person he is. Then you may have to pay a heavy price.
Be aware of these things:
For example the dentist takes off a tooth cap, (that expensive, cover they put on an unfortunate tooth) and by the way he hadn't told you that the tooth's root must be taken out before making and putting the cap on the tooth, why? for money of course, what else?) (And you know what I mean here by [root],the ASAB is inside the root actually.)
Anyway he sends you for a [root canal operation!] to his partner. After that, when you return, he (pretends) tries to put the cap back but the wrong way! and of course it doesn't fit (now I know, in fact every kid knows how to put a tooth cap back if he watches just once; the outside and inside differs and anyway there's just two way to put the cap on.)
He tells you it doesn't fit. Why? Because if it fits, (which it does in fact) he must use a drop of glue and can't charge you 150,000 for a new cap. Any way you naturally ask why it doesn't go back into it's place?! When all has been done is pulling the root out, no one has touched the tooth body. You naively ask: Why is that doc?
He says: I really don't know, beats me!!
And because it's so unimaginably ugly, you cannot even think for a second that he is lying so shamelessly, until later when at home you go in front of the mirror and put the old cap back on the first try!
So you go to another honest dentist and he fixes it with one drop of glue, as simple as that. But because he, the bad guy, has ruined inside the cap a bit, to show that it needs correction it's a bit loose and needs more glue.

About sending you to his business partner for a root canal. He sends you to some one for a root canal. (I'm really sorry to say that now it's plain as day light that she gives him percentage, I guess at least 30%) and this one, when you tell her that who has sent you, charges 30% more. (You pay her 120,000 and then later you find out that she charges the others ninety thousand for the same “two root tooth”, yes my friends, 90,000 for one lousy root canal at least! But you are in pain, you cannot argue and they both know this. And the very ugly thing that he does is this:
First time when I get back to him and he asked me how much had I paid for the root canal, (he always asks, looking after his interest naturally,) and I answered 120,000 he said ok and was happy and kind and did his job while telling bad jokes.
The next time that he sent me for another root canal (a few days later, yes, unfortunately I have bad teeth,) I found out that there was a dentist in our neighborhood that does these things; so I called him and he charged me 40,000; one third of what my dentist's partner took from me. (Believe me for a two-root tooth again; and it's not cheap of course but it's not all out robbery either. And it's not just the matter of money really, it's more about immoral behavior.)
Anyway, I went back to him the next day, he was very kind and polite again and asked me to lie down and be comfortable and put his plastic gloves on and then he asked the usual question:
How much did you pay?
I said: 40,000.
What?!!! (Pause) Didn't you go to the one I told you?...
No, I found this dentist near our house and…(mind you I never objected or any thing about that 120,000.)
He thought for a few moments then suddenly took off his plastic gloves, and said:
Let me see the X-ray. He had never asked me for the X-ray before and I have eight rootless teeth, victims of ruthless acts, in my mouth. And the very fact that he took off his gloves first and then asked me the question shows that he had decided to get rid of me at that moment.
I said: I don't have it with me. Why do you ask me for the x-ray?!
He let a sigh of relief and said:
Then I can't fill your tooth, I must see the X-ray.
After I reminded him that he had never asked for X-ray before, he said this time is different! This tooth may hurt you in future and you may tell me...
I told him that I accept all the responsibility and I even give him a signed written piece of paper that if any thing bad happened to this tooth in future, I'm solely responsible.
He said no I cannot do it.
I insisted and he insisted till he made me real angry and at last I found out what was his problem: I haven't gone to his partner and he was punishing me for that. And I was so angry that forgot to tell him that he could take the x-ray himself like he took every time he wanted to do anything to a tooth. Anyway, at last I asked why you changed your mind the second you found out that I haven't gone to your partner? He pretended that he was surprised and amazed and said: Do you suggest that I take percentage? And I said is there any other way to look at it? Tell me and I'll look at it the way you like. Then he said I don't fix your tooth any more. I said fine, but before that you must fix this one and more important my row of four caps (two of them were quite healthy by the way and he had fooled me, I was naive and trusted him on everything about tooth, he had told me that to make the two teeth caps firm, we must make one row of four! and I had accepted, not thinking for a moment that he was just trying to make more money, as simple as that! Anyway I told him that he must fix them, before we divorce each other and live happily ever after.
He didn't dare to refuse, seeing my anger, so he said ok, but I have another client now and there's not enough time, make another appointment, I'll do it next week. I agreed and left.
Then when I called later, his secretary ashamed and apologizing said that she couldn't give me an appointment because the coward dentist had asked her to get rid of me. He had told her he won't finish the job that had cost me six hundred thousand, 150,000 for each tooth, two of them absolutely healthy which he had ruined as I said before. I told the girl to remind him that I had paid fool payment and for him it's not the matter of liking me or not. He shouted from distant: You do what ever you can, go to court!
Now, what should I do to such person, and not a man as we define "man". Can I take him to a court of law? Of course not, he never gives a receipt or anything, I don't have any hard evidence, except the testimony of myself, my wife and his secretary, who is a nice girl by the way, but do not want to lose her job.
Shall I send some people to his office to teach him a lesson?
You see, dishonest people misuse honest honorable people by doing what ever they like because they think it's against gentlemanly or ladylike principles to reveal even the bad guy's secret. But can we say just once, in some extreme cases, can we tell them:
Guess what! You are wrong this time! Can we do this just once? Can we defend a tiny bit of our rights at least by just saying that “you went too far this time, you hurt me real bad.” He'll laugh at us because that sort of person doesn't care about reputation and self-respect and all that, but we can do this much at least to calm our selves down, can we?
Now really tell me people! What can one do to such a, what shall I call him?
Anybody has any ideas?
Shall I reveal his identity? It's against what I believe and my standards on the whole in general, but this is a special case.
Or we must let him go away as always? What about his next victims?
What do you think? Will anybody help me in this matter?

“20 Ways To Maintain A Healthy Level Of Insanity.”

we can let each other know which ones are better, suit us best, by giving: No dollar signe ($) to: "Not bad". One $ to: "good". Two,$$, to: “very good”, and three, $$$, to: "excellent!" You may say for instance: Number 7& 15:$$$, No. 3:$$.
It’s not obligatory by the way, it’s optional!

1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses on and point Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.$

2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don't Disguise Your Voice.$

3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask If They Want Fries with That.$$

4. Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label It "In."$

5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. Once Everyone has Gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch to Espresso.

6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write "For Smuggling Diamonds" $$

7. Finish All Your sentences with "In Accordance With The Prophecy."$$$

8. Don't use any punctuation

9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.

10. Order a diet water whenever you go out to eat with a serious face. $$

11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is "To Go."$$

12. Sing Along At The Opera.$$$

13. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask Why The Poems Don't Rhyme.$$

14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play tropical Sounds All Day.$

15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You're Not In The Mood.$$

16. Have Your Co-workers Address You By Your Wrestling Name, Rock Bottom.

17. When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream "I Won!, I Won!"$

18. When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking lot, Yelling "Run For Your Lives, They're Loose!!" $

19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner. "Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go."$$

20. And The Final Way To Keep A Healthy Level Of Insanity....... Send This E-mail To Someone To Make Them Smile. Its Called therapy.

When some nice people ask the blogger so nicely and so kindly, the blogger must do what they have asked for, doesn’t he my friends? Especially when he is so busy, like these days. And this time we have their pictures too, and in action too! Isn’t it too great, too?

Some young people probably have not heard that in the old days people were far more close to their animals than we, now a days, can imagine, and in some cases they were too close. Some men actually loved their animals, but the majority just used what was available. Some people really loved their sheep, dog, donkey, and believe me, even their chicken! But not cat by the way. We haven't seen any report about a man making love to a cat. I wonder why? May be because of her sharp nails? Or the jealous husband, the big ferocious angry male cat? We don't know for sure. Anyway, we have reliable reports from all over the world; this kind of behavior does not belong to a certain environment or race, no sir! It’s in human nature, in some humans’ nature at least.
The event I’m going to tell you took place in the suburb of [...] at the last decade of the sixteen-century. (During the spring of 1597 to be more precise.)
The seven-year-old son of the village preacher once woke up earlier than usual and went to take their beautiful white gray silvery donkey to pasture. In front of the half open stable door, he stopped amazed, froze in fact, and joyfully watched his father in action. The boy gladly waited till his father finished what he had started, and then went to play with his dog; left the donkey alone to absorb what ever it was to be absorbed, and the satisfied father went to the house to have his breakfast.
The boy thought it was customary for men to make love to their donkeys first thing in the morning, before breakfast.
So the next day the boy woke up early again, very excited and went out waited for his father to come out and start the show, so he can watch again and after that take the donkey to pasture. But the father didn't come out of the house that morning, he finished his breakfast and went to work, that is, went to preach, went to tell people not do certain things if they know what’s good for them.
The boy waited for a while and then went to the house and found out that his father had left the house without fucking the donkey, imagine that! He thought maybe his father had done it even sooner that morning but of course he couldn’t be sure, maybe he wanted to that later that day, who knows.
The preacher was giving one of his usual lectures, was telling people not fuck around and do not sin, other wise they'll burn in hell and that sort of things, when suddenly his son appeared at the door with the donkey and asked:
"Father! Shall I take the donkey to pasture? Or you haven't fucked her yet?"

I was reviewing an ancient history book the other day and again came across some fascinating facts and figures about places and people of the time and their exotic habits and curious beliefs and I thought maybe some of you find them interesting too, so I decided to share with you a few brief parts.
First I like to tell you, if I may, about the saints of a certain caste of the ancient Hindus (Cabalians as the author says) who go around naked with a big heavy bell, like an ear ring, hanging from their dick swinging and jingling all the way all time so people can hear the preacher is coming, (and to show that the holy man has absolutely nothing to do with women,) and they rush to receive the holly man and worship him and his bell and last but by no means what so ever not least, his swinging dick. The bell is so heavy and agonizing that the people have to (out of kindness that is, it’s not obligatory) they have to bring a stool for the man to put under his poor dick and let him rest for while when they are adoring him and burning aromatics under him, under the tired elongated dick; and they thank the holly man for putting up with the pain and enduring the torture for their sake, the man is actually paying for their sins with his penis and not peanuts you know. We say it's not fair, but who are we to judge the people who’s holy man has a four pound copper bell hanging from his dick?
Anyway, the people gather around him sit and listen to his preaching and when ever they talk or don't pay full attention, the nude priest puts his hands behind his head and jingles the bell majestically, so every body can see the miracle, see that the man means business, see that he is dangling the bell by pure will power. From that moment on they became all ears and eyes and at the end of the ritual they thank the great man kiss his thing and give him a drink, a cocktail you may say a mixture of bullshit and bull's urine and send him to the next village. And in this very caste there are other holy men whose specialty is suicide instead of dick dangling and they are rather brave I believe. Of course they can perform their art only once in their life time but that's no problem because there are many of them and they have a rule that they can kill themselves only one at a time so that people can watch and ask him if he is still here or there, and after they finished with him they can run to the other one and ask the same questions from him. They do it like this:
They dig a big hole in the ground make a reasonable amount of fire, not too much that burn the man in a jiffy, and the man goes down there and sits on fire up right and the people gather around him and ask him: "haven't you seen the paradise gardens yet? Any sign? Trees?"
He says: "not yet."
They ask again: "what about now, can you see the flowers? anything?"
He says: "Ah yes, but... wait a minute... no, not yet."
And the question and answer goes on. Unfortunately the narrator doesn't tell us more about this very interesting procedure and we don't know if one or all of these really nice guys see paradise at last or not; but my guess is that at least some of them should have seen some thing and told the poor people who were waiting for an answer around him; otherwise the people would lose interest. Of course except those who gathered just to have fun and had no beliefs in, in what ever it is.
Some of these suicide saints are real heroes, I mean real heroes, they stand the most horrible torture imaginable without screaming or making a sound, they don’t even budge, poor brave things. They sit absolutely still in the wilderness for so long that gradually birds of pray notice them, take them as dead go down on them and start eating them bit by bit. Unbelievable you might say, never the less it’s true. They say they don’t move till they drop dead. This is rather heavy I dare say, isn’t it?

But more interesting than the Indian rituals is how Tibet became a country, how people found it and stayed there and why they do the things that they do over there. As always to cut it short I just bring this part about how a man named Thabet became the first ruler of Tibet with the help of the Satan and how Satan taught him to eat flea and told him to tell his people to eat them daily too so they would have a long life and no enemies; and here the author comments: That's why people of Tibet eat flea all the time. (And we add that the Mongols used to eat them like any other thing they could lay their hands on; of course not after they conquered civilized countries and learned to eat caviar and filet mignon.)
This is what the narrator says:
When Thabet found Tibet the Satan send a few giants to kidnap him and take him on top of a mountain and then the Satan himself, disguised as an old man (this is really charming) as an old man came to him and said you must bow to me and worship me if you want to be the king of Tibet. Thabet bowed and this turned the old man on so he fucked him right there and then. Thabet didn't say anything, did not protest; either he had loved it or he knew better to quarrel with and old man over such a matter. Even so, after that the Satan, our guess is to show that he is in fact a fair man, bended over and told Thabet: "Now you do it to me my son."
Like they say it's indeed not easy to say no to an old man, specially to one who has fucked us in the ass right that moment. So Thabet fucked the nice fair old man either dutifully or because he loved to, and certainly it’s not any of our concern. After being fucked in the ass by an ambitious young man, Satan stood up cleaned his knees of dust and then he combed Thabet's hair with a wooden comb and his saliva, couldn’t find water up there you know, and kissed his forehead and told him to go and rule over Tibetans and always remember what he said about eating fleas and what they just did to each other. The author comments again: “That's why the Tibetans eat flea and fuck each other indiscriminately.”

No need to mention again that these descriptions belong to more than thousand years ago and no sensible person should be, and in fact is not allowed, to be offended in anyway.

Among our folkloric tales there are some stories about how a young outcast or the famous third brother, the youngest smartest luckiest brother, or that famous baldheaded guy who is again the luckiest and very clever indeed, anyhow, the lucky stranger with empty pocket and empty stomach arrives at a city and at the gate finds some respectable old citizens waiting for him or any other foreigner to elect him as their king. In most versions it's the lucky clever bald guy that enters the city, especially when the king must be chosen by a falcon that comes down and sits on the future king’s head. The bald guy buys a calf stomach pulls it on his head and attract the falcon, of course these stories like most folklorics are not very sensible and logical in their original forms and we are not suppose to ask that if they want to choose the foreigner, why need the falcon? Maybe it's for the ceremonial purposes, just a formality.
Anyway, the thing I'm going to tell you is about how we always thought that the precedure was really strange, ridicolous actually and not possible. We used to ask eacother: How come they can't solve this small problem of kinglessness between themselvse? why must they send those poor elderlies to stand there for God knows how long, waiting at the gate of that godforsaken city for a lost wanderer to appear at their gate so that they can ask, beg or force him to accept the crown and rule over them, why? It's sheer nonsense we used to agree upon, at end of every conference.
But later, again as the reasult of [philo] [sophia], love of understanding things, curiosity in other words, we found out that those stories were not necessarily fictitious, were not nonsense, but made sense indeed.
In fact they were derived from eyewitness accounts, those events were really happening in some parts of the world and kept happening for centuries later too. Maybe this genre(!) of tales had been introduced by those who either had seen that kind of king electing or heard about the strange costumes in far far lands from travelers. In fact among the reports of some famous travelers like Marco Polo, and our friend Foula's compatriot, the famous tourist, Ibn Batoutah and the likes of them we find some facts that without exaggeration are much more unbelievable than most of our tales. for instance like when we read in Ibn Batoutah's itinerary, travel’s diary, that how the nice friendly guests of an African emir (by an unfortunate misunderstanding really) had eaten the servant that had gone with them to show them the way to the guest house and the next morning these guests had send a delegate to the amazed emir to thank him on their behalf and especially because the servant was really yummy as they had said, was very delicious.
And thank to those guests who answered the son of Batoutah's question sincerely, we now know that the most delicious part of the human body is the palm of the hands. Is that why children keep licking and chewing their hands, by the way?
And again the son of Batoutah tells us about the costumes in some African and Asian countries that are more strange to us and more fascinating than most of our stories. and even more interesting are the reports of anthropologists and sociologists of the 19th and 20th century. About the subject of electing a foreigners as kings. We have reports that shows beyond doubt that being a king was so hard and painful job in some societies that nobody dared to accept the honor, to the extent that those responsible for finding a king, when secretly agreed upon some unsuspecting fellow countryman, had to ambush the poor "elected king" tie him down and trow him in a cellar without food and water until he agrees to accepts the scary challenge and becomes his people's king, because the king's life was the most miserable and painful life with no fun what so ever. The king’s body and soul and all things around him and every thing he touched at once became tabu and sacred. For instance the Incas used to burn instantly what ever their king Atahualpa (the last king of Peru) touched or wore once.
A very mild example of these miserable sovereigns was a mikado, a Japanese emperor.
His feet must not touch the ground, they carried him on their back; the sunshine wasn't allowed to shine on his sacred body even mild breeze was not allowed to pass over him; no razor was allowed to cut his hair or nails, you may rightly say that he would become a very scary creature indeed, but the so-called servants, the emperor torturers, were smart Japanese and found a way. Because they couldn't leave him to rot and die of dirt and diseases, because they couldn't find a mikado every few months, so they had to wash his sacred body, but how? no one was allowed to touch the live body of a god, the son or some other relative of the Sun. So the cheeky Japanese invented a theory and find a witty way to fool the sun and wash his son, without breaking the ancient sacred laws. They decided to wash him when he was asleep! How about that? Now, does anyone like to be a king? Any body!
Just one more thing; to finish this section neatly, I give you a few sentence from Sigmund Freud's [Totem and Tabu] as exhibit number one if it pleases the court. Quoting from Fraser and other noted anthropologists, he says: "in some western African countries, in [Sierra Leone] for instance, it's become so hard and difficult to find a king, (in early 20th century,) that they have to find an unsuspecting naive stranger and somehow trick him to the throne.
They had to hide behind the city gate, we guess, and jump an unsuspicious wanderer like the big cats they got there.
I originally wanted to say a few words about the lucky bald guy and how smart he is, but I unknowingly I went astray; sorry about that, and now that it's late and the post’s become long again, as always, we better leave that for the next session.

Now that every body here is poet, I better read you my poem too, which is not mine unfortunately, it originally belongs to the famous 11 century Persian mathematician [Omar Khay yaam], and I ruined it just a little bit, so that every body understands.
He tries to make people know that they don't need to be so frightfully scared of the punishments waiting them in hell, in the eternal world, and they better do as they please to reduce their misery in this world, he wasn't a very optimist person like all who think about things by nature, by habit, and because he and the likes of him, 95% of the population of the country had been threaten to go to hell if they drink wine, he advises them:

Before the sorrows and pain,
encroach your shrine* (* = your holly, intelligent mind),
order the best
red smooth wine,
you're not gold
you're not silver
you're not the fool
they call be liever(!)
Says don’t worry about the after life nonsense, you are not gold my ignorant man! That they put under ground and dig out again, make you alive again to torture you for an unlimited time. When you’re gone, you are gone for good! You will turn into dust and that's the end of it.

Now, talking of the fears of the other world, all those horrible tortures in hell waiting for us, reminded me of an old anecdote that I'm afraid is not funny at all, but what can we do? Not everything supposed to be funny in this world and especially in THAT world. But it's really educational. Some say that the Italian poet Dante was present there when it all was happening, during his hell visit we talked about before, but I'm not sure about that, and another thing: this may make some people who have heard it before, angry. I just hope that they hold their peace!
This is the hellish story:
You probably know that the affairs in the other world are managed democratically and it makes sense too because even people in this world who are in fact too young and primitive comparing to the inhabitants of the other world, are trying, at least pretending that they are at last on the path to the so-called democracy after years and years of the law of the jungle, the nature’s law actually, that let's the strong and powerful bit the shit out of the weak and ignore his illusionary rights, created by the artificial man made rules, called morality and incidentally we discussed this subject too just a few posts ago.
Anyway those in hell after thousands of years of experience surely are more "developed"(as they say) than us here, on earth. So when a sinner is thrown into the hell they don't just put him under torture right away, without reading him his rights or without legal help and advice. No my friends, they give the poor sinner choice. They let him look around with a tour guide beside him and choose his own kind of torture, and it's quite fair because the poor guy has to tolerate the torture for eternity or at least for thousands of years and he should have the right to choose the kind of torture that is most suitable for him, the one that becomes him more, in other words. Because of this humanistic reason the hell guide takes the newcomer behind different closed doors, the door are closed all the time in hell unless they want to let some one in, because as you know all the men and women are naked in the torture rooms and for good reason too.
Suppose they want to insert that hot red half burned stick into a sinner's ass as they have promised us so many times. Now tell me, how can they do it if the sinner is not naked and ready? As you probably have heard time is everything in hell.
Anyway the guide takes the man behind the closed doors one by one so that he could listen to the poor lost souls in there, hear their cries and complains, listen to what they say and see which room he prefers. For instance behind one closed door our sinner heard ghastly cries of pain and horror and some logical complains like: "What's wrong with you?! You are hurting me." and the other party answered: "You don't like it? I'm sorry but this is the [Half burned hot red stick room], and it's my job to insert it into your ass hole every ten minutes for the bad things you did up there. Why must you ask this same silly question every time I mistakably take it out a few seconds late? This is what you asked for."
So the newcomer turned to his guide and said: "This one definitely no!"
Everywhere he heard shouts and cries of pain and the poor sinner was getting really frightened and depressed. He was going out of time and still had no idea which room he liked to choose, then suddenly he came to a silent door no shouts no cursing, a pleasant silence and when he listened carefully he heard that just once in a while some one might say, politely and very gently: " O' brother! please do not make waves."
They spoke so gently and smoothly he could hardly hear them. Of course that was it. Who of sound mind would not choose that calm friendly space behind that door with those polite gentle roommates? So he chose the room instantly. The guide opened the door and pushed the amazed man into the room and closed the door.
The newcomer found himself struggling, swimming in a thick liquid and when he managed to come to the surface and stood on his toes he found himself and his roommates in a vast huge pool of runny unpleasant thing, because again as you probably know, the devil and all his fellow assistants have diarrhea all the time as the result of eating fire three times a day. Then he realized that by some miracle no matter how tall or short people are in the pool, the surface just touches their lower lips, so even when they are angry mad crazy at each other when they badly need to kill him because of his thoughtless inconsiderate violent move that has created waves on the surface, they must not yell at him. They must, gently remind him and politely ask him not to repeat that, they should mildly and smoothly say: "O' brother please..." Must not make him upset and violent again.
In fact now that I think of it, it's an ideal way, the best method to be used in anger management courses.

During my school years I read a story, a semi-historic story, belonged to the time of the Mongol invasion, it was about a passing Mongol who encountered a few peasants and killed them one by one, of course he had nothing against them and was doing this by habit actually, he killed them till the last one who was a young boy. The Mongol was bringing the sword down to cut his neck that the boy shouted:
”AAY AAGAA KHODAAY RAA BAMGAA MAMKOSH”
"Spare my life, O' great master! Do not kill me for the love of god, but thou mount on my rear and copulate as the laws of nature commands."
in today’s language the boy said: "For god's sake man! don't kill me, fuck me instead."
And it's interesting that according to the historic report the aggressive blood thirsty Mongol accepted the offer right away, did as was told and then let the boy go his way; the smart boy did it his way in other words.
The narrator, the historian, says that the shameless boy who begged so dishonorably for his miserable life, and was supposed to lose respect in the eyes of all the people and live the rest of his life in shame and hiding, wasn’t suppose to show his face, this boy on the contrary, lived a long respectful prosperous life and became the mayor of his town, had a big happy family and saw his great grand children and had all the goodies of life and when he became too old and tired of living he peacefully died happily ever after.
From all these facts the historian concludes that this is the way that all wise fortunate young men should behave under the same circumstances and in fact in every other circumstance, means that: they must always “act logically and without prejudice." But then he goes too far really and claims that the so-called moral maxim that says:
"To be a proud respectable man, to be able to keep your head up, you must keep your ass hole intact no matter what." he says this is just an impractical hypocritical unrealistic moral slogan, is in fact a big lie, is a "myth" as people say now days, from my friends here to the BBC to the EroNews and the CNN and the others.

Anyway, as a young man I thought the story was a joke, a fiction. Because I found it really hard to believe that a young uneducated peasant boy could be so sharp smart and wise and be able to see the future so clearly in a blink, to make such a tough decision in a second under so great a pressure, under the bloody sword of a cold blooded murderer.
But years later, once when I was reading this very educating scientific book about human and animals behavior, where in, in which the writer, an eminent zoologist and anthropologist had studied mammals and primates for years to understand the root and origin of the human behavior, in that book I came across an interesting scientific fact and right away I was reminded of that smart survivor boy and I realized that the anecdote could be a true story after all. Because what the boy had done was actually a natural response the situation.
In animal world when a primate confronts a powerful opponent that will kill him if he doesn’t think of something very fast, and wants to appease him, wants to show that he is at his service and calm him down, when he wants to be submissive and show the strong male that he is not a threat any more and there is no need to make a scene when he is surrendered, in short there's no need too kill him, in this situation according to the study, apart from running away which is not always possible, like the boy's case, another effective methods of appeasing is to lower the body make oneself smaller and shorter which is appose to standing and making the body bigger when aggressive, and people still do that by the way by bending in front of the chief; and when these acts don't do any good, again like in our clever boy's case, the animal tries to re-motivate the attacking ape. In this defensive method the submissive male makes, urges, the dominant male to spend all that pent up energy gathered in his body somewhere else. The pent up energy as you all know= all that sudden rush of adrenalin & carbohydrate & sugar into the blood and the increased blood pressure and the massive increase in respiratory activity, sweating to cool the engine down and...
All these changes prepare the animal for battle. So when you want to stop him you can't simply say stop! It’s not fair and is not practical anyway, the angry opponent will rightly ask: " what should I do with so much energy I have gathered then? Where should I empty all the calories?"
This is where the re-motivation act steps forward and suggests that the dominant male instead of tearing the opponent to pieces and make himself tired, upset and probably injure himself in the process, he simply fuck the other party and forget the whole thing, the very re-motivation act of our clever boy.
The professor writes in his famous book, [The Naked Ape]= human:

"...Another re-motivating activity is the adoption of female sexual posture by the weaker animal, regardless of its sex or its sexual condition, it may suddenly assume the female rump-presentation posture. It stimulates a sexual response, which damps down the mood of aggression. In such situations a dominant mail will mount and copulate with either a submissive male or female.”

Now, think about this my friends that what a beautiful world we could have if in every stupid war, this covers all of them, humans just adapt this technique instead of killing each other and at the end gain nothing; of course the victorious industrialists and other hot shots gain enough, but those who are tricked to every war with the same lies all through contemporary history (it's got really worse in fact because in the old days they had to pay people good money to fight for them, but now a days they don't even have to pay them, they just say your country needs you! instead of saying honestly that: “WE HAPPY FEW” need you to die for US, like the good old days.) anyway I was saying that the poor soldiers never gain anything. If they are really really lucky they go back home in one piece that's all.

Now just imagine it if they instead of shooting and burning and exploding and tearing each other to pieces for no reason actually, imagine the weaker group just offer their asses and end the fight like any intelligent respected ape and if the worse come to worst at the most they may fuck each other and go back to their families with their heads up and become senators and mayors and serve their country, like our clever boy did.
Now tell me people, wouldn't it be the greatest achievement of the human race? This is my contribution to the human civilization.
Some day I'm sure, if the human race is not wiped out from the earth, the humans will rich that degree of knowledge and level of intellect&honesty, in the part of the governments I mean, to adapt this technique instead of mass murders that they call "fighting for the good of humanity!" And at that time people want to know who was the man who suggested the big change, and you or your children could be proud to say that you, or your parents, were actually there when the man made the suggestion for the first time.

Sorry for the delay folks.
Now I tell you what I think about that matter, about the question I asked last time:
I think the severe punishment for suicide in the old days and still in Christianity, in the books I mean, used to serve two important purposes.
First: they didn't want to loose their really cheap labor, those poor obedient serfs who used to work till “death did them apart” from the land, their master’s land, those poor souls with no right at all must never leave their jobs because that meant losing easy money. Imagine your horse instead of give you a ride, or you ass instead of carry the heavy load for you, decide to kill themselves, it’s ridiculous, and a disaster.
And the second reason that I believe was even more important was that the man who don't have anything to lose is a very powerful and dangerous man, and more powerful and more dangerous is the man who have not even a life to lose, the man who has decided to end his life, end his misery. Such a man is potentially a fatal danger to the land lord, to the feudal own him, to all those who dined and wined and slept in warm bed in his expense and laughed at poor men like him. That man is a serious threat to the hypnotizers too, those who were responsible to keep the army of poor workers in chains of superstition, those who convinced them every week that they should not want anything, they should not ask "why?” if they know what's good for them and for the system of course! If they don't want to burn in hell, that is. HE is a real threat to those who used to teach them that obedience and wanting absolutely nothing is the surest way to the heaven.
“Salvation my child, is only possible if one is not cheeky. Five fingers of the hand are not alike, etc… so shut your mouth and do as you’re told if you don’t want to burn in hell.”
One who decides to end his life can first get rid of a few bastard.
I read somewhere, years ago, I'm not sure where, was it Voltaire? Anyway it was in the time before the Great French Revolution and the writer was criticizing the tyranny of the church and was saying what the church had done to a young man, a boy who was dead and, can’t remember why, they were against the boy's family, so they claimed that he had killed himself and to punish his body in this world before he gets to hell they put his naked body in a little cart, cut and put his dick it in his mouth and drove the cart all around the streets to show people what happens to them if they do the same.
By the way, it's interesting that this religious law particularly belongs to the Christian world. In Islam there is no emphasis against suicide of course Islam is against it but not as a great sin but rather as a stupid act. In this matter just says that do not put your self in danger, don’t ruin your life; and I think that its audience are those who might confuse “the so-called written destiny and the exact time of every one’s death” with real world and might think that for instance if they jump down from a high tower nothing will happen to them. It says it doesn't work that way! But never threatens the faithful with a specific punishment for that. What do you think the reason is?
Not that I really expect any intelligent answer ofcourse. Just kidding!

The world famous Italian poet Dante Alighieri going to hell in 14th century A.D. to see with his own eyes what they do to the Italian sinners. All the people he met there were Italian, shame on them!


Before I ask you if you’ve heard about [Euthanasia in Cambodia] I suggest you think about this fact of life, in your spare time, when you have nothing better to do:
The moral laws, the religious laws in fact do not tell you that must not cut your hands or you must not blind your eyes or cut your ears (which is a mild self-destruction compared to the other two and was one of the ordinary punishments for disobedience and petty theft in the good old days by the way,) they don't tell because there was no need for such laws in those matters, so no prevention was needed. Those who govern, rightly or wrongly, make laws and invent punishments for some acts, crime or sins as they call them, to prevent people from doing them and the greater the possibility that people do a certain "unlawful" act, the more severe the punishment.
Now my friends do you know what is the sin that brings the most horrible punishment on the sinner's head? Lying? Adultery? Stealing? High treason? Killing a few people for fun? Massacre the population of towns?
Indeed, it’s non of these, the worst punishment in hell, after of course the punishment of the worst bad guy in the history of Christianity, that traitor, [Judas Scortius] or [Iscariot] as the English call him, who is still naked ass, his head in the mouth of the devil himself, waiting defenseless ready for the hell's rapists, as [Dante'] has described his situation in deep heel and has seen him himself actually during his "Tour De Hell" with his tour guide [Virgil], apart except for this eternal bastard who kissed Jesus and by that treacherous kiss introduced him to temple guards, by the way how come nobody knew him after all those preaches on the hill and every were else and after the famous rebuke the money-changers on the temple entrance and all that disturbance? Jesus! How come they didn't know him and they needed this traitor to kiss the great famous Jesus? Anyway the worst punishment in hell awaits those poor souls who couldn't stand their unbelievable misery, were fed up with hunger and sickness and trembling in the snow and rain all the time with no hope, all their life working for the landlord, for the bishop, for the feudal. The worst punishment was waiting for those poor souls who couldn't take that unbearable pain and sorrow of continuous slavery and had eventually killed themselves. They didn't hurt anybody in anyway, just ended their own life obviously because it was absolutely unbearable otherwise they carried on living because as the Arabic proverb says, "Hot red iron is the last cure!" Meaning than till there is a slightest hope of remedy by for instance refraining from heavy food or using medicine or prayer, etc, one obviously do not let those cruel bastard doctors burn his body with red-hot iron. The Arabs say: [AAKHAR AD DAVAA' AL KAYYO] and some Persians say it like this: [AAKHARIN DAVAA ALAKIEH!] meaning the last cure is no good, is bull shit.
Now, what do you think is the reason for scaring people in this manner, threatening to burn them in hell over and over again for eternity? Why suicide is such a horrible sin?
I’ll tell you what I think about it tomorrow because I must tell you about [An American in Cambodia] who invites people from all over the world to go to the beautiful Cambodia as he says, and kill themselves, and the post gets too long again and tiresome and may, God forbid, bore you, my darling readers.
This nice Ameriacn guy, an inn keeper or something like that, has opened a website in Cambodia and invites people to go there and kill themselves without the government intervention and it’s become very famous, the site attracts twenty- thirty thousand visitors from all around the world. He has become so popular that he makes good money on the side by advertising. First abortion and now suicide!

The Egyptian jackal-headed god Anubis preparing a mummy.

Now, the thing that I was supposed to tell you last time but couldn’t, it’s a question actually from those who have self-confidence in the first place and more, are honest to themselves. I’m sure most of you are honest to other people but being honest to ones self is something else.

The Greek historian, Herodotus who visited Egypt in mid fifth century B.C. writes in his great book [The Histories] that in Egypt they have different methods of embalming, three ways to mummify the dead. In the most expensive one, for royal family and the well to do, “They first take a crooked piece of iron”, as he says, “and with it draw out the brain through the nostrils” and then they make a cut along the flank of the body and take out the whole contents of the abdomen and fill the cavity with aromatic myrrh, with spicery.
But in the cheapest method, for the poor, they let the brain alone, no crooked piece of iron, and leave the body intact, no cut with that Ethiopian sharp stone as he says. They just inject a certain amount of warm smooth cedar tree oil through the deceased ass inside the body and then seal the ass hole firmly for seventy days and keep the body, like the expensive methods, in some special liquid; and at the end of that time as he says: "The cedar oil is allowed to make its escape and such is its power that it brings with it the whole stomach and the intestines in a liquid state."
Real smooth, cool isn’t it?
Now the important question is: which one do you prefer, honestly. To let them take your brain out with a crooked piece of iron?! which is not sterilized I'm sure, through your nose and wound all the inside of your nose irreparably?! Why? And then brutally cutting your body from under the arm to your waist and bring out the stomach and everything like the butchers do to the poor cows?
OR,
Or, you like them to leave your brain alone and delicately like a caring mother, inject warm smooth oil into your ass, that’s all, and let you go? I bet even among the royal family you could find many smart people who bribed the embalmers to pass them as poor; to be treated like a human beings instead of being tortured so bad that one when think of it likes to sit down and cry for an hour at least.
Which one do you like?

This picture belongs to the amateur phtographer.

Something funny happened in front of my eyes and my ears this morning. I was in a photo gallery which belongs to a good friend of mine, needed to talk with him. A respectable Indian family, from the astonishing land of India, was there, wanted to take a family picture. They were grand parents with their two sons a daughter and four grand children I suppose. They all were handsome and chic and talked and laughed all the time; seemed quite happy and vivid at least till they got bored by the fresh man, by the young photographer. Seemed that the grand dad had come recently, or maybe not. May be he and his wife, like most people who immigrate in mid-age, couldn't or, quite rightly, didn’t like to loose their original accent, or may be they had come just for a short visit, to see their children, I don’t know.
Anyway because the master photographer was talking to me his right hand man, he was his left hand man I realized later though, went to take the pictures. I was looking at him as we were talking and I saw that he was not comfortable at all. Was it his big break to take a picture of so many people together, all look nice and all in focus? We don’t know. He looked a bit too much nervous for the simple job he was doing and ... I’m sorry I forgot to tell this for those of you who are not familiar with the accent: The grand dad pronounced some words a little different; for example he pronounced words like “lotus”: "lot-us". Instead of "low-tes".
After a while, after waiting too long in fact in silence, in front of the camera and watching the apprentice sweating and messing with the camera and lenses, the “grand ma” lost patience and asked her son in an irritated but controlled tone:
"What on earth is he doing?"
And his husband who too looked uneasy and worried answered before the son opens his mouth. He said:
"I think he is going to focus now."
The mother asked, horrified:
" ALL Of US?!"

[And I found this two-headed turtle down there. She was 6 months old when I found her.]

Before I tell you why I'm still here, I'm going to tell the funniest thing in all the written history of mankind, the most interesting and funny thing which happened in my presence too. But unfortunately I wasn't able to see the whole adventure and even if I was, it might not look funny to me; surprising may be but not funny because I was too young (about three years old) too appreciate the cuteness and strangeness, of the situation and the unbelievable act of that really nice kind, always worried lady, the lady who at the peak of excitement and worriedness did some thing that even now after tens of years later I and the rest of the people who have heard story before or not, and the two persons alive, besides myself, who were present when it happened,(my older brother, and the chemist Dr.H.N, the lady's brother who was a university student at that time,) even now we are not able, it really is not possible to keep our laughter down. And the reason why I, myself didn't see that unforgettable event was that when it all happened above that deep well which was in the middle of the lady's garden, I was at the bottom of the well waiting to be rescued. And remember that until now I have never told you that the story I'm going to tell is funny, let alone the funniest; so be careful guys!

My mother decided to send my brother (who was four years and 13days older than me at the time and believe it or not, he is still the exact same amount older,) to her good friend's house, that nice worrying lady, who lived a few blocks from us and told him to take me with him. I don’t know if I had insisted to go or my mother wanted to send me there too, to make her friend who used to claim that she was in love with me, happy. So that she could hug me, squeeze me and kiss me as much as she liked in privacy of her home; in other words: so that she could embrace me without embarrassing herself! Is that a great "word play" or what?! Anyway my brother took me with him although he needed some one older to take care of him. But in those days little kids did things that are hard to believe these days and surely are unacceptable for many parents now.
Now as I said before, I heard most of the story later, time after time; in fact I just remember two things clearly about the whole incident. One: down there was dark and I was saying that its dark down here and I’m scared, and I thought I was seeing two little dark glass windows. Two: when they brought me up, I kept swearing at my brother, took the poor kid responsible for my really horrible experience: Falling down the fourteen meter well! I know it's unbelievable. I still cannot believe that the well was that deep and nothing happened to me except a few scratches (actually some had a semi or para-logical explanation for that; I'll tell you that later). But they all said that it was a fourteen-meter well. Of course it is possible that the well digger had exaggerated a meter or two to get more money but even if it was ten meters deep the accident still looked like a miracle and mind you that many people at that time till years later had really accepted it as a miracle and even my cousins grand mother who was a very religious lady who, like that famous saint, had suddenly discovered the truth when still young and beautiful and left all the luxury of the royal grand ceremonies and parties and devoted the rest of her life to her religious duties, this lady kept telling me that "God has touched you in that day. Understand this and choose the right path in your life."
Anyway what happened was this: We two kids hand in hand entered the yard walked on the toward the well, unaware of the well of course, which had a trap door like they used to have in the Adams family. I walked on the door, the bastard ducked; I fell in, hanging for a few moments from my brother's hand. Of course the poor kid could not help me, he was going to fall dawn with me, so in a few seconds he took a very wise decision, he let my hand go and went to tell the grown ups what had happened. You must understand that he didn't think that I might die in the fall or I was in any real danger; he just thought, I guess, that I was in an awkward situation and needed help, like a cat up a tree; and he showed this fact by his really coolness when went for help. By the way, I let you know when we reach the real funny part, I'll warn you before, so you can relax and if you liked to smile or laugh before that that's your business, but when you must really laugh is when I tell you to be ready!
The lady's brother Dr.H.N. was shaving when my brother,F, went to him and said:"DD fell into the well." he was so cool, that the doc didn't believe him naturally, to him it was like he told him that I was shot in the head, falling down that well was equal to be killed and no less. So he said ok, still shaving. Then F asked, "Aren’t you going to bring him up?"
"I can't, you see I'm busy! I'm shaving."
Then the kind lady asked from upstairs: "Are you talking to me?"(even before Robert De Nero).
"No it's F, getting wise ass! he says DD is in the bottom of the well!"
"WHAT?!!" Shouted the nice worrying lady M and ran down the stairs.
"Don't worry it's nothing..."
“But it's true." my brother insisted. So Mr. H.N., just to convince her sister, grabbed my brother's arm a bit annoyed, his face half foamy and razor in the other hand and brought him over the well and, the worried sick nice lady had ran to the well too, and H.N. with faked smile shouted into the well:"DD!" and I said: "Yes?" And the lady fainted instantly. I don't know if people really faint as we see in movies or they always fake, but if I can believe in one sincere faint, that would be Lady M's faint at that moment.
At once all the people of the house ran to the well, shouting, some asking what should we do now this minute there's no time to waste. And some saying that some one must go down there and bring the poor child up. But who could do that? The lady had come to her senses by this time, not really actually, she was crying, was crazy and was confused during the next ten minutes or so, running around the well and around herself like a wind mill, pulling her hair and slapping her face. At the mean time H.N. had ran out of the door to find a well digger, and it wasn't an act of despair, no, in those days that kind of workers like those who emptied and cleaned pools were peoples whom you saw daily in every district.
Lady M's father and two younger sisters and the old cook and the gardener and his son were standing around the well, all shouting, making suggestions or mourning, because I getting away with that, get out of that well alive was hard to imagine for some of them who didn't believe in miracle. I imagine it was like that famous scene in Mozart's opera Figaro, when all the characters speak, sing together at the same time, and of course, without listening to each other. At last H.N. enters with the man. A man in his forties, in black "pajama type", no belt pants (which must be the better the newer one because they usually wore the older with holes on it under the good one so when they work they don't ruin their good trousers), old shoes no stockings, a not very clean white under shirt and over that a "one size small gray old jacket" and a navy blue "half ball hat" stuck on his head.
Naturally they all, and above all a hundred times above all the others, THE LADY, wanted the poor man to go down there immediately and fetch me before he even opens his mouth. But of course in real world things don't work that way, even if you are dying from shock and loosing blood, you must first pay, or sign some agreement; before that they don't help you. So when H.N. brought the poor man, the man obviously and quite logically wanted to know first what was going on? Who is down there? Is he big a guy? What if he was heavy? And of course more important than all that: how much he's going to get for the get for the job? No one was thinking about the payment except him; because money was not a problem as they say, in it's most actual sense and meaning. No body cared if the poor guy wanted to charge even too much, more than his own humble expectations.
Here comes the funny part: The man was coming over the well talking to H.N. who was agreeing frantically with what ever he was saying without hearing a word, he just wanted to send him down as soon as, even not, possible and the nice respected lady was going crazy by then from excitement and worrying sick all that time, so she ran to the man who was talking to H.N. and was taking off his jacket in no hurry...
Lady M only concern about starting the rescue operation without wasting even a second, and to help the man get ready faster, and of course not knowing what she was doing, jumped and pulled the surprised man pants down in the middle of the crowd, by that time some of the neighbors had come too, to see what's going on. It's true that she wasn't supposed to that At ALL! But everybody knew that these workers always wear two pairs of trousers and the under one was for work. But this time this black pajama was all that the poor guy had on and when the lady pulled it down the entire crowd, who were singing Figaro till then, suddenly fell into absolute black silence! Silence of amazement and shame and the silence that was the preface and the soundless overture of that crazy loud coming laughter in a few seconds. They all froze amazed for a few moments till the lady found out what she had done and what she was staring at! Then she screamed and ran for her life! The man's equipment had such an impression on her that she forgot all about me for a minute or two. She ran for cover, hide inside the house till her father, a respected old gentleman, pulled the poor guy pants up and sent him down.

About the logical explanation: some said I had grabbed the pipe that went down all the way into the water and had slid down but what about those iron shafts that fastens the pipe to the walls? They could break my wrist. And the bottom of the well was just optimum neither hard to crush my bones nor watery to sink me. I don't know, I think calling it a miracle is the easiest and understandable explanation, and the most logical one too, in absence of logic!

And about why I didn't close down for good: To be honest, first I felt like I'm a grown up who enters in the young kids play, no matter how much he tries, he ruins their play. We have all experienced that and we all know that in that situation always the kids are right and the grown up is unwanted even if the kids like him/her even they love him/her; they want to be left alone in their play and they have every right to want that. But then some one made see things better, more clearly…
I got tired now I'll write the rest next time. And just say this I've decided not ask any question from anyone I don't know and not even praise any one that I don't know at all, to prevent any misunderstanding. Because actually we, I and my fellow partners, had started this web log play for saying something very very important which we hope to share with you when the time comes and in fact it was one of them who reminded me that I shouldn't quit just to make a handful or even less than a handful happy; specially when I’ve found some really great friends here.

{Persian Empire in The British Museum till the end of the year}

This morning, before noon, I witnessed some thing in one of our neighbor’s guest-room that affected me so deeply and strongly that I cannot resist sharing it with my few friends in this business, the web log business. And today I'm Mr. “Polite nice guy” too by the way. But before telling you what I saw and heard today, I must explain a fact of life for some of you who may have not any experience in the field I'm going to talk about. This fact of life is that the absolute departure, leaving the world for good and going to heaven, (I'm so polite today that I cannot say even the word hell! I said it though, sorry.) In short, dying, I mean the natural death, is not always a simple easy short procedure it's not! Believe me. I have seen nice loving fathers and mothers who in their death bed innocently and against their own wish and will, annoyed and made their beloved ones mad so bad that the danger of them (the beloved ones) interfere in the course of nature and take the heavenly law in their own hands was dancing in the air and around the poor guy's head, that nice guy who was lying in his/her death bed awaiting the angel of mercy, angel Azrael, and begging him/her to hurry and end his/her pain and the horrible bore due to lying in(after a while) disgusting bed with nothing do except suffering from everything. This process in some cases can take weeks and even months. In fact fast sweet enviable deaths like the departure of my father is very rare. My mother called me and said: “I think your father doesn't feel good, he breathes a bit heavily I think." I went there and after a few minutes my wife came and then my brother came. The father didn't bother anybody didn't give us the least trouble of any sort. When I arrived he just let me know, he didn't speak those last minutes seemed a bit confused to me, he just let me know that he wanted to go to the bathroom, we went there I helped him to urinate, but it was false alarm, no pee. So we went back to the bed, a big king size bed that had room for all of us. My father lied in the middle and we all sat around him. For almost a minute or may be more he looked at us intentionally as he was trying to bear the picture in his mind as clear as possible. And then he left, no fuss, in peace and tranquility he smoothly crept to that eternal sleep. It was the way of dying that I guess every body wishes for, when the time comes of course, not now. But the strange thing was that, I, not a crying type, cried so heavily and with my whole body and no control, that even my mother and my wife who loved my father as much as the rest of us, halted their crying and tried to calm me down, I myself was trying too, but it was useless for a few a moments. The next day I thought about it, tried to understand why I had cried like that (it was the third time in my life) when every thing was so beautiful and was not very unexpected too. May be it was because he couldn't speak at those last minutes, may be I had thought: what if he wanted to say something? But then again nothing didn't matter any more anyway; the whole world vanishes with every death I guess. Anyway, I was saying that it's not always so easy, no sir! Some times especially when the whole family do not live in the same place, when every son and daughter with his wife and husband live in a separate continent, this hide and seek with Azrael can be really painful and annoying too, trust me!
They get a call that says: “It's TIME”. They leave their work, buy at least two return tickets, if they don't bring the grand children to say goodbye. They come to mourn for a few days and get back to their lives. But Azrael refuses to answer the prayers. They stay for a week, then two weeks, and then they loose hope and go back to their continents. A week later they get the call again they hear: “this is it, this time is serious." They whisper to themselves:" I hope so." and the poor things repeat the whole course of action again. May be this time they're lucky may be not, no one knows!
Now about this morning:
A friend of mine came and said he was going to visit "the poor old Mr..." father and father-in-law of two of our friends, and said that I better go with him, said: “It makes Mary and Joseph really happy if you come along too."
First I said no, because I had gone there last week and everybody knows that I'm not one of those nice guys who when ever hear that some poor bastard (sorry about that) some one is ill, they pay a visit every day and say nice things to her/him. I said no, I can't come. "Why not?!" he objected: “It’s less than a five minutes walk for God's sake."
"I know and that's why I went there last Tuesday evening; and brought a bottle of vodka too..."
"To cure the poor old man I'm sure!"
"No, to drink it with his daughter and his son-in-law."
"Ok, why not repeat that this morning without the drink."
"I told you I was there four days ago, I have a reputation you know, I can't just act nice guy on request of the first man who comes in from the door!"
At last he took me there saying that the poor man is really dying; I whispered: “don’t be so sure!" and we went out of the door.
To make a short story even shorter, we find the old man sleeping in his bed like before and the daughter started crying as we went in, as it's customary to cry for every new guest; but she was crying more seriously this time and seemed to me that she didn't want to let go, I thought, I must ask God's forgiveness before saying this: but I thought may be the poor exhausted woman had decided to cry very hard like the father was actually dead in the hope that the great God takes pity on her and send the angel. It was just a thought of course, a pretty stupid one too, at first at least! But then suddenly she made me proud, proud of myself that is!
(Sorry I forgot to explain it before what “legal doc” means: The "legal doc" is the doctor who signs death certificates; when some one dies in a house he must go there and examine the body and decide the cause of death and sign the death certificate; after that they can carry on with the rest of the procedure.)
Mary, the daughter, sobbing, told her young brother: “did you call the legal doc and all that?" The young brother picked up the phone and was going to ask what number (under Mary's husband, Joseph and my amazed stare,) that Joseph whispered: “Are you really going to dial?! Put the phone down, I can't believe it! The poor man is alive for god's sake he is not dead yet Mary! What’s the matter with you?!"
Mary slowed down to mild weeping, clearing her nose into a tissue and said, not whispering, she said:
"It's alright, call them, he'll be dead by then...till they get here." then whispered to herself: "in this traffic!"