United Malodorous Nations
What do these human rights people do all day?
January 27, 2005
I am amused by my articles ("mama-jaan enqadr aartikel nanevis
-- mageh nagofti mikhaayi beri kelaaseh rap meseh siaahaa beraqsi,
oun shalvaar gondehat ku?"); I read them, and I chuckle. Sometimes
I am sad, I have a large coffee, a large piece of cake, and I read
an old article, and I just chuckle (or I read Siamack's, they're
funny, or those of the London guy, Peyvand.
They have these bons
mots: like the girlfriend telling him "you're my little
was funny. Then there are articles by Mariam
communist murderers everywhere. I reach for another cake...)
I noticed in one of my items however, a reference to the U.N.
human rights body. I thought for a moment: "WHAT THE F**K
DO THOSE GUYS DO EVERY DAY?"
The United Nations was formed after the Second World War, supposedly
an improvement on its previous, ineffectual incarnation, the League
of Nations, and has been working day in day out for sixty odd years.
Billions and billions of dollars of taxpayers' money have been
spent on conferences, resolutions, speeches, events, debates, dinners,
lunch, coffee, red carpet cleaning, plane tickets (Oh boy), "inspections," you
So, the human rights people go into the office every day (I hope)
and get on with their business, whatever that may be. They should
be the busiest department in that entire concern, surely? Or they
would be if they strove (like Germans) to stamp out rights abuses
around the world. They would, were it not for the "stink" diplomacy
particular to the United Nations designed to avoid slighting sovereign
(scumbag) states and their evil rulers -- the Axis of Evil rulers
who send the UN its paycheques, and their own loyal chums to staff
the ethnic-quota-filled committees and sub-committees of the United
What do these human rights people do when faced with another,
yet another, report by Human Rights Watch or Amnesty that people
have been arrested, have disappeared, been thrashed, beaten, "cabled," or
plain old murdered, in Kreplakistan or Shittia or wherever?
They convene an immediate, working lunch, of course.
the head of department shouting, Abu Falafel Dum-kshowww, from
Somalia (a country I greatly respect, famed for its law courts
and pervasive stench of cack.)
But should the resolution not cite Big Dumpestan (Popular Happy
People's Republic) where the torture occurred, his deputy Raj Dishdash
interjects cautiously. Kshoww gives him a look of scandalized disgust,
but says nothing, his mouth being full of a salmon-and-sparkling-wine
Thank goodness for international law, I say. Aside Republican
administrations who obviously have no respect for anything good,
we may rest assured that the states of the world never violate
treaty obligations like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights
or the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (because it's the LAW),
to threaten the world or oppress their (cheering) citizens. Only
some neo-con crazy guy would think that.
And if they did, they could expect a double-whammy of critical
dialogue (KPOWWW) like there's no tomorrow.
I feel guilty now. I shouldn't have said that stuff earlier to
Mariam Namazi. It's not personal, dear lady, it never is. When
I refer to communist or MKO murderers and scum, I don't really
mean they are murderers -- like they actually murdered millions
- or would be murderers or are scum. I say "scum," and "murderers" in
an entirely respectful way. I am mindful of the rich tapestry that
is the spectrum of political opinions and aspirations. Where was
I... yes, SCUM:
In the same way, when I write critically of third world states,
I don't mean to generalize, or be frivolous or abusive for no good
reason but my amusement. I appreciate they are in a process - a
long, difficult, indeed unending - process of socio-economic development
that is often hampered by ridiculous free-market and open-society
rules and standards set by those wolves in sheep's clothing, liberal
democracies (Khanum, I'm actually on YOUR side, just pretending
to be with the capitalist pigs).
No, the point of writing here is not to be rude for rude's sake,
but to share thoughts, enhance the collective knowledge, the breadth
of knowledge I should say of the Iranian community, and make us
stronger, better people, with a brighter tomorrow. We can do it
with music: "Yow f**cka, mow f**a, me wanna me-treaty-rights
f**ka." It's the first line of my new poem: The Beauty of