If you can’t fix the economy, If you can’t figure out the way to shine in a good light around the globe, If your friends are the least loved people in the world, If you don’t know what to do with the minds that think, If you don’t like what those thoughts bring, If you have problems with drugs, prostitution, and crime, If you can’t create jobs to keep everybody decently alive, It’s time for you to go to the perpetual Plan B, Where you attack women on the street, You frighten and insult them, You degrade and humiliate them, You drag them away with you to Vozara, To be paraded through the frightened eyes of those standing by, And their worried families, You arrest young men with different hairdos, You arrest young men and women holding hands, You arrest young women walking about, You shout at them, you talk down at them, You scare and intimidate them, Now you are safe again for a month, Go on, enjoy it, your forced values will appear intact again, For a month.
This is what inspired me to write this:
I was reading your post on National Dance Week a few minutes ago. As usual, I can’t add any comments from where I am, so I write them to you.
The day that dawned on you has barely set on us. Only 12 hours of time difference, a few thousand kilometers of distance, and two entirely different worlds.
As usual, now that summer is on its way, authorities in Iran have started persecuting women for the way they dress, and where you live, people can dance in streets and no one would bother them.
My 17 year old son came home late last night. His eyes were reddened by tears. He said he had been arrested by the police, just because he is a young boy. They catch every young boy and check their military service status these days. They also arrest them if their clothes or hair style are inappropriate.
Attached is a small piece of video footage of one of our president’s pre-election interviews. Politicians around the globe tell lies before elections, but he has set a record in this area.