i write this sitting in a London flat, Zone 1, listening to relatively amazing music, as boys do my chores and the weather outside flutters. i scroll down my twitter, a sinking feeling that news of anything that happens in my country has become too old to post by reporters. they're bored, they're confused, they have no idea what to talk about. suicide attack, people dead, same shit, different day. i watch as other news pop up, stuff about...stuff. other things. unconcerned individuals going about their day, like i do for most of the weeks and weekends. i'm biting my lip, i want to be back there, amongst the rubble, in a tattered shalwar kameez, pulling people out from underneath concrete and metal. let the dust collect in my hair, i want to be there. but i know it's never possible. i know i say these things, like so many of us do, yet we watch with horror and humiliation as we let the barbarians do what they do best, again and again. more scrolling on twitter, something about Harry Reid's wife in an accident, says npr. what about the rest of the accidents, you fucking morons? will you stop your tomfoolery so people can get on with having a life and actually being able to live it? is it so easy for you to sleep at night because it's really all about how it's important to save black boys and make sure China gives you the money you need to keep doing what you're doing and not have to worry about stuff like honest foreign policy or anything that Plato or Chomsky spoke about. Like peace, and interdependence, and integrity to the human race. Chuck the UDEC out the 30th floor window, theek? Aur woh kya religious fundos, how the fuck are you letting them get away with this shit, again? Again and again? Unn idiots ko bhi tou samajh nahin aani. Kisi ko bhi kuch nahin samajh aani. maar dalo saron ko, buss. Fuck MAD, just blow everything up.