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War Is Ugly, But...

2011-12-31T04:32:00.000-08:00

I can smell the war; it’s so imminent that I can smell the burnt meat of poor soldiers and civilians. I can hear bombs exploding everywhere and the cries of little children looking at their dead mother, and a wreck which hours before used to be their house. Another f*cking war…
My father had fought back in Iran-Iraq war. He says and I quote, “I know how exactly it feels, the insanity of humankind coming to life in form of weaponry. Sometimes you just don’t want to believe what goes on in wars. You just want to keep telling yourself what you see in movies is as gruesome as it gets. You really need to believe that, otherwise you’ll find yourself picturing it, trapped under its wreckage, in your mind. Mankind killing mankind, that’s just brutal and absurd.”
And it’s all happening again. A country is to sanction another country and they threaten to respond by using military power if sanctions are imposed. We never learn, do we? Thousands of lives must be lost, fathers must be killed, and houses must be burnt and destroyed for us to learn. It’s always been like that, from that bastard Cesar to our very own stupid Kings; war is the only way to learn.
It is as simple as that; a f*cking moron in Whitehouse sanctions our oil shipments, we retaliate by targeting those commuting through Strait of Hormoz and a deadly war breaks out. All the sudden coward Arab states of the Gulf wet their pants and start sucking their thumbs. Iran and US engage in an aimless war all over the world, attacking each other’s interests be it military, civilian, or economic. And we all know when it ends and how.
I pray to God it doesn’t happen. I sincerely ask God for everything to end in peace. I wish one never even thinks of invading the other. But God knows if it does happen… screw humanity then. If we’re all going to burn, let’s make it hard for the f*cking fire. In a world that innocent people are dying in old malfunctioning air planes simply because we’re sanctioned, mercy means nothing. Fighting against the cowards who would’ve done such thing is an honor. I will be in the front line as soon as it begins and I will do everything to them to earn myself that badge of honor, and become a war criminal. They deserve the worst.

Yes, war is ugly… but sometimes you just have to.

Disclaimer: Warmonger’s discretion was temporarily not advised.

My Country, My Country

2011-09-15T06:01:00.000-07:00

There was once a great king called Xerexes… oh crap. I don’tknow why, but whenever someone wants to talk about my country they always bringup the whole legends of Xerexes and other kings of ancient times who used torule our motherland, the great Persia. So Xerexes didn’t kill women andchildren? Oh that’s great; but what about their cities, their everything else?How would he treat their men? What the hell did he even want to prove bycapturing their lands and properties? Wake up dude!

I mean, not that I hate him or anything but I’m sick andtired of those stupid people who don’t know what they’re talking about. They’realways like, “He was such a nice guy he didn’t take hostage the women andchildren of the defeated” and so on. Come on man, the dude was a war monger atthe first place. Why to start a war and then let go of the innocent? What, you’resaying their men were guilty so there was nothing wrong with killing them? Orthey had to die, so that Xerexes could let go of their women and put his nameout there as a merciful and generous “God”?! How about that?

Sadly, this madness doesn’t end here. Some go on so muchthat they talk about those times as if they’ve been there and have spent timewith the guy himself. I read somewhere on Facebook, that “Xerexes liked fruitsa lot and he always carried with him a big like a bag of different fruits andgive them away to the poor, after invading their land to show his generosity.”Seriously? Is this what the world has come to? Now you’re lying to defend some douchebag vampire who used to invade other countries for no reason and used to callhimself a God? Get a life man. Seriously, go get a life.

I’m proud to say I’m all but a supporter of that guy. He mayhave had written the world’s first human rights thingy and he may had shownmercy to some people, but I’m sure it’s because of kings like him that somepeople still hate my country today. Ask Arabs and they want all the Persiansdead. Ask Turks and they’re so hurt, that they want to chew your heart for noreason and ask Afghanis and Pakis to see how proud they are for not beingrecognized as Iranians. How’s that Xerexes lovers?

But I know a few men who truly stood for my people and I worshipthem. I know Sattar Khan, Bagher Khan, Mirza Kuchak Khan. Yeah, these are myheroes and the ones you need to learn about. Xerexes was a king, he could dowhatever he wanted, but Mirza wasn’t. He was an ordinary man with a terriblehaircut, who built a little army in the jungle and scared the living hell outof the enemies of the nation. I know a man called Mostafa Chamran, who beat thesh*t out of Iraqis with empty hands and was killed 600 kilometers away fromhome, while he could easily stay in the US and get his PhD and live a verywealthy and comfortable life. The list goes on but I’d live the rest for you tofind out.

Whenever I see somewhere, a guy who’s yelling his lungs offto support a foolish king of this kind and thinks that showing the world howbig heroes we once used to have is what he’s doing, I just want to choke them.Let’s hope they either wake up or go to hell to meet up with their belovedking.

P.S: Historians’ and Xerexes-for-life-people’s discretionwas advised.

English Literature: Torturial*

2011-05-06T05:50:00.000-07:00

Do you want to torture somebody? Are you so bored of everything that you want to kill yourself? Wait a second… Before taking any further steps, read this and you may want to choose an easier way to do so.

It all started almost a year ago. A dark night in summer, when all of the God’s wonderful creation was asleep, an alarm went off and all the sudden ‘zillions of students of a particular university woke up; it was time to pick some bloody units up for the next semester.

After losing gigantic amounts of weight because of the stressful attempts that were made for logging into the site, there came the real sense of terror and fear: the place was wet and most of the children were missing*; classes were almost full and it was a tight war against time, but I managed to choose what I wanted as I wanted. Little did I know that what I wanted was what I actually didn’t want myself to want!

It was the first days of English Poetry class, when I found out that English poetry is the most horrible thing that can happen to an ESL student. Starting with Shakespeare and his stupid, boring mouth blabbing about how gay he is and how time is killing him but that’s not important and so on, we were all blessed with a huge pile of sheet, having short stories and a lot more poetry written on them.

Now I like short stories; I’m a writer myself and those are my thing. But imagine reading a short 3-4 page story in 3 sessions or to be more accurate 3 weeks. That’s like being burnt on fire in heaven! You will be disgusted no matter what is it that you are reading.

Poetry is a lot worse. To torture somebody, all you need is a sonnet from I-don’t-know-why-he-is-so-famous poet and whatever-else-he-is-known-as, William Shakespeare. Tell your victims to write a comment on a sonnet in a week and they’ll be free; and, don’t get surprised if you found them dead after that or begging to be executed instead. Yes, Shakespeare is that ugly. I can’t say that about other poets though. I happened to like one piece of English poetry or two, especially those of Robert Frost. Weird!

It is not easy to be an ESL student. People will think of you as this stupid person who couldn’t do any better in university entrance exam and is sentenced to take this course; basically, that’s enough to make you depressed like Michael Jackson when he was accused of child molestation. Now add English Literature to this mess and you’ve got yourself a frustrated student who will be the best possible case for both suicide and/ or experimental torture programs.

P.S: English Literature students’ discretion was partially advised. Partially because you are a human being after all and English Literature is a nightmare to those who can read regardless of what they major in.

P.P.S: If you think I’m promoting suicide and torture by writing this, then you are absolutely right.

Rainy Tehran, Rainy Hell

2010-11-06T08:51:00.000-07:00

I no longer wonder if it rains in hell. Why? Because it does in Tehran and that's enough to be sure about hell. Of course Tehran is not as horrible as hell might be but still you can’t say it’s anything close to a standard city to live in. Pollution is beyond any imagination here and so is the diversity among its people. No matter where you are, not a single day is passed without you encountering someone talking on cell phone with the weirdest accents known ever. And the pollution, trust me, you don’t want to breathe here. It’s almost a gas chamber (Holocaust, anyone?). Those who live in Tehran are, probably, the only human beings with the ability to survive a nuclear blast, thanks to the air pollution.

Is there any other way to make things worse? Sure! The only thing you need is raining for an hour or two; then the city would pretty much look like a giant ants’ nest flooded by water. People go crazy just like ants. Everyone take their cars to the streets and all the sudden the city turns into a gigantic parking lot.

Unfortunately that’s just the beginning. Buses are always delayed, shops won’t open on their usual time and much worse, you can’t find your umbrella when it rains! That’s why, if you leave your home early in the morning, you’ll see people soaked to death waiting for the bus, and the stores to open; yes, they’re hungry too! To be honest they’re not regular people, they’re students like me who never get a chance to have breakfast in peace.

The other day I was riding the bus to get to my university while it had been raining since the night before. So not surprisingly, it took me more than two and a half hours to get there. 2 hours more than a normal day! It’s been a recurring nightmare for more than 5 years.I love the rain though.

P.S: Earthquake in the near future?! Please God, we’re suffering enough!
P.P.S: Now seriously, does it rain in hell?!
Disclaimer: Tehran and its citizens’ discretion was advised.

I for Internet

2010-10-16T04:15:00.000-07:00

It wasn’t long ago, when having a decent dial-up connection was the craziest dream. One that you could talk about with your friends; the key to the unlimited source of the unreachable! You see, those days a connection was just a connection. It was just a tiny stream of tired bits being carried by some even more tired signals, and no one thought it’ll get better. Well, not in Iran!

When I’ve got my first dial-up connection, some 8 years ago, I couldn’t imagine having anything better than that. I used to spend lots of my time in Persian social networks of those days, or as I like to call them, the Cyber Pasturages! I still wonder sometimes, have we done any secret genetic experiences on animals in our country? Because I think I’ve seen some of them using internet several times. Anyway, Webshots is the only English site that I can recall from those days. My browsing habits went on like that for a year or two until the serious social networking came in.

It all started from Tebyan. The most creative Iranian site in the time, featuring lots of elements that could keep you entertained for hours i.e. a rich download section, easy blogging, free E-mail, etc. I thought posting on a site just does not make sense; well, I was wrong. My first post attracted many people: A boring joke revised by me into an unrecognizable new one. By no time I was addicted.

That was alright though; I still hated chat and blogging; two activities known as most time wasting things you could do on the internet, to me. But again, I was wrong. My first Yahoo ID was “Mohsen_15_marmoolak” (Yes, creativity was high!) and actually was of no use to me. But my second ID added another affliction: Chat. It still was not serious for me; I used to mess with my friends just to have fun. But when I started blogging it all changed. Readers started adding me from my blog and soon after that I was waist deep in IDs. I loved it though, most of them really liked my blog and that was cool. But you can’t keep chatting and living together. It was like hell for me. Imagine having a dial up connection and an add list with more than a hundred active IDs. Who’s going to pay the bill? I started announcing certain hours of day for a blog conference. Yes! People would gather in my blog and talk to me through comments or messenger. I felt like a celebrity, but in fact it was nothing but addiction. I was an internet junkie surrounded by a bunch of people like myself. All we wanted was to kill the time. However, blogging helped me a lot. It helped me to learn myself, and my abilities in writing.

But now it’s different. I’m not addicted to chat anymore; I’m not even addicted to blogging like I used to be. But thanks to ADSL, I’m a download addict now and torrent is dope!

P.S: To those who keep asking me why don’t I have a Facebook profile? Get a life and some privacy! I already feel guilty for keeping my Yahoo profile going.

When the Bus Stopped

2010-10-06T12:42:00.000-07:00

Imagine it’s the hottest time of the day. And you’re sitting in a crowded bus on a rock-hard seat beside the window and sun is aiming at you out of all people. Now you may think that’s the worst possible scenario after a long day in university on the way back home. But if you happen to be as unlucky as I got the other day, it might get even more annoying.
So there I was sitting in a bus with 60 percent of my body being boiled by sun* and all I could do was to stare out of the window like a sad guerrilla looking out of its cage, waiting for the ugliest daily experience of mankind, the bloody bus trip, come to an end. It went on like that for like 20 minutes and I was about to reach home when something weird happened.

The driver stopped the bus at the Dehkade Olympic station and jumped off it, running towards a little kiosk at the other side of the street. I don’t know why that seemed so weird to me, like I’ve never seen such thing before. So I said to myself that I have to guess what on the earth caused him to storm out of the bus like that. And in order to do that I had to change my sitting situation because I needed my whole bodily energy to concentrate on such important (= stupid) matter. So I took my almost melted body parts together and seat properly and started thinking about it.

First I thought he’s going to buy a newspaper and since he was young and kind of a “meydun shush” guy, that would be sports-related and more specifically it’s about body building. But it wasn’t because he went directly to the kiosk’s door and not the newspapers. My second thought which would have made more sense was that he’s going to buy a bottle of water. But again I was wrong. The young driver with a red t-shirt stained with everything from engine oil to god-knows-what-else, wanted to buy a pack of cigarettes. Holy duck! All that running and hurriedly crossing the street was to buy cigarettes? Really?
Apparently he didn’t want us to get angry at him because he left the bus in the middle of the street, so that is why he was running. But is it so important to have cigarettes with you whenever and wherever you are? I mean is it worth blocking the street and leaving 60 odd passengers in the bus just because you ran out of cigarettes? Is it that addicting? It reminds me of Moe’s bar in Simpsons. When there’s no beer and everyone’s screaming like a woman giving birth! Come on people, either get rid of it or learn to control your habit.

*: Sun is hot. Heat boils the water. 60+ percent of our body is water. If you didn’t know these, you probably smoke too much. ;)

P.S: Smoker’s discretion WAS advised.

P.P.S: But I’m not kidding. Control your habit. You walking human exhausts!

Religious Freedom my A*se!

2010-09-13T08:42:00.000-07:00

It’s amazing how mad people are going nowadays. I mean, burning Koran? Dude, get a life! What the next step is going to be? Peeing in Saudi Arabia to wash off the Muslims? What the hell are you thinking? It’s 21^st century. Publishing industry’s been around for more than a century now. And guess what, Muslims are using it too! They’ll replace burned ones with thousands of new and probably fireproof ones. Yeah, go hang yourself!

Barrack Obama, Angelina Julie, and I (hell yeah)(Me rocks lad!) are among the millions who condemned this foolish act. Even the infamous Sarah Palin knew it’s a “mean-spirited religious intolerance” thing to do and “don’t feed that fire.” Yes, even Palin figured it out and sadly YOU, those who participated, didn’t!

But seriously, what does it remind you of? Isn’t that the biggest sign of anger? I strongly believe in conspiracy theories and in my opinion this isn’t an exception. There are people angry with Islam’s influence and they’d do everything to slow it down. Just to slow it down; that’s all they want. Muslims aren’t easy to deal with. You burn their holy book and they’ll demonstrate for days and will boycott you all they can. It’s sad that nobody took lessons from the Mohammad’s insulting caricatures. Muslims just went out of control. Who are they trying to stop exactly?

And Let’s face it. Islam is taking over the world. You can laugh all you want for now. But give it 20 years and Islam will be the Religion with most followers. Mark my words!

P.S: Now human beings aren’t the smartest species, thanks to the leaders of this movement.

P.P.S: 20 years if 2012 isn’t gonna be the end. HAR HAR

Ali Daei or "How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2)"

2010-08-27T04:50:00.000-07:00

Could you believe it? 800 million (800,000 $) for destroying a whole nation’s pride in less than a year. And it gets even worse when you watch the man responsible for the mess, defending his crappy results in the most viewed TV program. Somebody please tell me, what the hell is wrong with this country of ours? Isn’t there anyone to stuff this man’s mouth? Are they looking for volunteers? Because if they are, I’ll be first in the line.

“They said they will pay the taxes…But they didn’t and I want that 230 million Tmns (230,000 $) back.”

Oh my goodness! How could you sleep at night man, seriously? This is the country in which there are families still living in some always wet and stinky places, while you’re counting money at your multi-zillion dollar mansion. I mean it’s your money, right, but don’t you think you have to be more careful when you’re talking to some 80 million people? Who are busy enough to not give a damn about you whining for your tax money so huge, that most of them don’t even know how many digits it has? I’m glad for those who couldn’t pay the bill and didn’t have electricity that night; lucky them for not seeing you.

“I’m not doing this for money… I’ll build an orphanage with that money if you want!”

You greedy piece of trash… if that was the case and money wasn’t the reason then what the hell was? You’re not out to say you just wanted to prove you’re right, do you? Even if you were right, which I highly doubt, then you didn’t need to brag about it on TV to remind others how wealthy you are and how miserable their life is! Given the above, I dub thee the Grinch the 2nd, who stole the national pride and has been paid for it.

“I’m a professional and this amount of money is nothing, considering my profession!”

Oh yeah?! Is that so? Sir, to my calculation, you are an idiot! Getting 6 points out of a possible 15 is as professional as a cow driving a car, and admitting that is as stupid as the human beings having monkey ancestor’s theory!

P.S: Poor Grinch.

P.P.S: Didn’t want to sound bitter at all, but couldn’t help after seeing orphan children at the Quran fair hoping to be adopted.

Nerdology: My Years of Research

2010-07-18T11:03:00.000-07:00

Have been accused of being a nerd, and trying hard to remove this stain since high school, I’m now proud to present my theory about nerds, which is based on years of humiliation and a quite time of research; so here’s my theory of Nerdology (mixed with some advices):

1. Gender: Does it matter?

Obviously it’s not up to gender, but still you can say from the percentage of girl students nowadays, there’s something to talk about here. Have you ever seen girls calling each other nerds, teacher’s…um… well, teacher’s hand kisser, bootlick or things like that? No, exactly! We, boy nerds, are going extinct. We are vanishing like gasoline does in a car’s fuel tank (sorry, it’s not a green car at all). Come on guys; don’t blame each other for being smart or in our case nerds. Wake up! We are going down…Look around; girls are in town! I hold nothing against girls, don’t make mistakes. I’m just saying we deserve more credit. We need more male nerds!

2. Appearance: Nerds are congenitally different

Whenever you hear the word nerd the common picture of a nerd hops into your mind immediately. And I’m here to prove that image wrong. Take Einstein, our current president and Bill Gates of Microsoft for instance. Do you see the difference now? Their haircut, the way they dress, and talk? But more importantly if you look at their childhood pictures you’ll see that they’re just normal and adorable as other kids…Einstein and Mr. President’s childhood…err…Did I say adorable? You know what? Just take Bill gates for instance and forget about the other two.Um...Let's just move on to next topic!

3. Conclusion: What do we get?

My theory is totally wrong.

P.S: Oops! Reader’s discretion WAS advised.

Diary of a Serial Killer: A Mockumentary

2010-05-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

These are the last days of one of the most underestimated serial killers of the century:

December 19^th , 2012

Today I tried to kidnap someone in the hood, but it didn’t work out well; I mean, my plan was pure gold: Running over him with my wheels and then stuffing him in the trunk. Yeah, it sounds very clever, I know. But I don’t know why gangs in the hood always make fun of my plans. Anyway, as I said before it didn’t go well. That man was riding a car himself. Damn, I didn’t expect that. Better count that next time. Enough for today though, I got body parts to bury.

December 20^th , 2012

People have gone crazy and it’s not good. They don’t beg for their lives, instead, they want me to kill them. Whoever said world’s going to end tomorrow? Apocalypse?! Dear God! Thou shalt tell me his name, and send over your angels to receipt the corpse. You know me; if it’s not done by Azrael, look for my footprints…Shucks man! That was the coolest thing ever came out of my mouth.

December 21^st , 2012

Damn! Where did it come from? The tsunami. It killed zillions of Indians in a second. It was like an army of me. You know I don’t blame God for granting my power to that tsunami thing. To be honest, he’s got my back several times before. So don’t mind me God; Smite all you want. …

As you can see, the guy tried his best to be shown like a serial killer. Poor man died during a failed attempt to kill himself: writing English jokes. They say comedians are potential serial killers and it gets worse whenever people think they’re comedians while they’re as comedian as they’re a bloody monkey.Nobody believed it until this guy stepped on earth. Due to his privacy we can’t mention his name. May his soul rest in peace and if not who cares!

P.S: I don’t know if this is a narration or what. I just want to feel sorry for myself. Poor me!

Where the Goose Lies

2010-04-26T14:03:00.000-07:00

What you’re going to read is neither fiction nor exaggeration. It’s pure reality and is called the Ghaz Square. Located at the very center of Literature faculty of Allame Tabatabaei university, the so-called Ghaz Sq. is surrounded by what it seems to be a segregated piece of Amazon jungles; tall,strange and anything-but-green colored bushes alongside with countless trees. Yet, it’s in the middle of a university… weird, huh? Then you might want to turn your head and take a closer look. It’s always crowded with students laughing out loud, doing everything to pass their break even using forks or leaves as a ball…but with all this, sometimes they run out of things to do and that’s when the last two options come in. They either decide to walk around the square, which is 10 meters long in diameter, until they faint or lit up cigarettes and start smoking, again until they faint! It has been said that trees are the lungs of our planet; well, not in here. I’m sure if one day, by the might of almighty, these trees be granted the ability to repeat the most frequent thing they’ve heard, they’ll say:” Light me up buddy, may Lord shine light upon you”! Because in Ghaz Square not a single day passes without a student coming to you out of nowhere, asking:” Atish dari?!” It’s also been a new fashion of making friends recently (yes, it all started from a lighter; how romantic!) Nobody knows why on the earth smokers congregate here to smoke their lives.

Anyways, although most of the times it smells funny and never has enough benches to rest on(put aside the always smoky view), this little piece of land has been and is the only place that you can really feel comfortable and do things that you think being in a university avoids doing them; it doesn’t feel like university , being in Ghaz Square.

P.S: There is no goose at all.

What do I expect by the end of this course?!

2010-03-06T11:07:00.000-08:00

What am I really supposed to expect? Being graduated maybe? I mean, even literally, what would be the best answer? This is one hell of a question! Who knows what lies ahead? Who can even guess, not to say predict. Sure there are some general answers like: Well, first of all I’m going to find a job and work for 4 or 5 years and prepare myself to get married. After that I’ll pursue my academic courses to PhD (boom goes the dynamite!)and so forth.

But seriously, I have no certain answers; at least not for the moment (the beginning of the second semester). Obviously it’s not good for a student to have no idea about his academic future, but this is the way it is. The only thing that I’ve been thinking about from the very first day of this course was to learn and to enjoy a new language. Although English is not my favorite language, but it still looks bloody attractive and joyful to me. So let the answer to this question be as simple as this: I’m going to learn more and enjoy more,and I don't what should I call this?A expectation?Desire or what?

My only certain expectation is to fulfill those of teachers’ and the best case is to satisfy them with my results.It shows that I "am" well-educated by the end of the course and they haven't been wasting their energy during four years of teaching . Amen to that!

What do I see from where I'm sitting?

2010-02-14T12:32:00.002-08:00

Unbelievably hard, sadly true; this is what I’m supposed to write about. What can I say? It’s like a dead-end to imagination. Even physically, there is this wall in front of me which exactly “looks” like a dead-end.

Looking carefully, I can see interesting things like: zillions of DVDs and CDs scattered around my PC (yes, the familiar scene for most of us!); also here --on the left-- is my beloved white glass, which is painted with mostly blue and pink flowers; more to left, I can see my 11 years old speakers (don't panic,I use headphones instead of them!); On the right, is my giant HP printer sitting silently, staring at me like a hungry child begging for its four cartridges to get charged (weird cartridged children nowadays,don't you think?!); On the wall , behind the monitor, I can see a couple of different astronomical images, but the most magnificent one is an image of a Quasar (the most fascinating and also threatening object in the whole universe); climbing up, I see an exciting model of Big Ben tower , and 2 different medals (signs of my glorious childhood!)hanging from its watch. That’s it, nothing more to mention. I think there is nothing special about my bed or socks (!) and other general things that you want to know about, and even if you want I'm not gonna waste my time explaining them(just kidding).But you must see my personal library;No way to describe it.As you know, always, there are some details to be omitted due to our own privacy and who knows, maybe even security!

The thing is,no matter where I look at, all I can see are my memories; from the most recent ones to those 11 years old speakers’ era. Everything here is a door to my past. Shucks! I’m really obsessed with my memories (and I like it the most,believe me).

You must not miss this!

2010-02-11T22:30:00.000-08:00

"In my dreams I can see you

I can hold you and it feels so real" ...

God, I love this song; music at its best. I’m talking about Anathema’s One Last Goodbye. This brilliant piece of art is unbelievably touching and poignant. Yes, poignant! Even if one hadn’t had an unpleasant experience of love or someone’s loss, they “will” feel the sympathy and sadness of this song, wholeheartedly! Lyrics and music match in the most perfect way; I have never heard any other song as powerful as O.L.G. in expressing a very pleasant sadness and sympathy. Pleasant sadness?! You’ll never know unless you listen for yourself.

Some say it’s about one of the band members’ grandma; others say it’s about love and a broken relationship. No matter what this song is all about, it will touch your heart. Promise!

Unforgiven II * : An Amazingly Amazing Song

2010-02-08T00:30:00.000-08:00

While listening to this masterpiece, I just can't stop thinking about a land covered with soft and warm yet not sand-like soil; and, a very pleasant wind which seems to be caressing my body by its every blowing. Don’t get me wrong! It’s not bothering; not even boring. It’s just a little bit confusing. What on the earth could link these two? I mean why this great feeling arises with this single track, no matter how many times I listen to it? Even more surprising is that it just keeps repeating; nothing changes at all. Every time I must close my eyes and there it comes and fills my every cell. I’ve spent zillions of hours thinking about the origin. Where does this feeling come from? Maybe it’s because of the way in which guitars are played; heavy and slow with a very powerful bass. Lyrics (written by James Hetfield) are amazing too. The lyrics are about a man, the same man from the first song, who was pushed around and abused all his life. “Lay beside me, tell me what they’ve done. speak the words I wanna hear, to make my demons run.” He meets a woman who had a similar childhood to him. Do not expect a “esghulane” song; all you’re going to hear is 5 minutes of depression ,and about 40 seconds of hope (still good, huh?!).Listen to it; hope you feel the same damn good feeling as I do,whenever I listen to it.

Click to see the real size

The next post will be about my -- and perhaps zillions of other people's --nostalgic experience with Anathema (an English rock band).A very odd romantic nostalgia.Stay tuned

*Unforgiven II is the 4^th track on Reload album by Metallica