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Friday, July 6, 2018

The Attack on Islamic Culture : A Sadistic Approach to the Futile War on Oil

"How futile is war?" is a question you perhaps would like to ask an artist wandering in the sullen streets of a heavily rainy Paris. There was a time when I read a four-year-old kid write a poem asking a prince not to harm a tree. And then you see those muddy feet and unkempt hair of little people by the riverside, in all of our suburbian alleyways. "How futile is war?" circumferences like a humming, gravitating tune inside your head, functionally impaired to be of any help - apparently. Lord Rutherford's gold foil experiment materialised in a human world. And who wouldn't agree that they use more to conceal and worsen the situation; a fraction of which would have been enough to change the situation eternally. 

A still from Bahman Ghobadi's 'Turtles Can Fly'

If the world was so concerned with clusters altogether, maybe for at least a matter of decades, we could have discussed continuity in the UN instead of vulnerable targets and how to predate on a successful heritage of rich, potentially threatening rich culture and knowledge. With this, coincidentally, a few religious values have been associated, complicating things further. But as from testimonies collected from Syrian refugees, we know the extent of pertaining religious harmony at the heart of war. Hence, the incidents at Rafah or that in Aleppo is neither sheer negligence nor the mortification or parallel contextualism to blatant theories of nothing. The murderers and the murdered have names and addresses. 

In the twenty-first century, we somewhat propagate hatred through a certain mechanism promoting the methods of induction. It is as if we are human machinery provoking sadistic pleasure out of glorification of a past that never was ours. Zeynep Tufekci's take on programmed dystopia illuminates a certain theorisation that we, despite having a faint conception about have always managed to shove it down our shoulders consoling the curious one who lies inside us of conspiracy theorisation instead. From an individual's perspective, sitting right here, typing this piece after almost finishing Max Blumenthal's 'The 51 Day War' is nothing more than flying paper planes with messages written on their bodies from a dark cellar that permits of no other method to reach out. Now, believe it or not - you're the medium, you're the intermediation and you're the part of a larger social experiment that was conducted during the infamous Holocaust. And there at least lies two-three genocides beginning from that of Native Americans/Red Indians stretching to the aboriginal Australians that you're not supposed to utter a word about. 

The 'resistance', on the other hand, is a complicated term to decode. Even though the militant forces often join hands with the larger left-leaning political alliances, the region shadowed is their source of obtaining ammunition. Lenin had once remarked, "Capitalists will sell us the rope we will hang them with!" After all these years, the contrast and irony in the very ideation
of war challenges our own connection to cognition. The war now, is much more about exchange than a goal to conquer. The goal of the war is to let the war for as long as it can continue to do so. 
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