Monday 21 March 2016

Protesters against Iran

This is the story of a woman known as “Bait 455”, a prisoner who cannot be broken by rape or torture, and the Colonel who helps her escape and becomes a refugee of the “Theological Republic” himself.
Faith is what the regime requires from the Colonel. You don’t question the orders of the Supreme Commander. To be admitted among the holy of holies, is a profession of faith. You no longer belong to yourself.
Lies make the world go round. Poets are the only ones who can do without truth as easily as they can do without lies. They make up stories, they transgress, they know how to change, save the world from its misery, from lies, they are the mirror of the truth.
Bait 455 identifies the Colonel. You learn to read the infinitesimal. A few foot movements which you then classify according to walk. Even if it’s only a few steps forward or back. Traces on the ground. If you could read the ground, you could be informed…A pool of blood or urine, drops of blood or cum, a streak of blood or vomit spoke volumes about the torturers’ mood…After the rapes they would mop the floor with the bleach of ritual ablution, and haloes of white foam remained, furrows of macabre still lifes.

Long-distance killers and terrorists. There is a disconnect between the man guiding the drones, between what seemed to be a game in an air-conditioned facility, and the violence wrought by the control buttons, causing death thousands of miles away.  If all you are doing is killing on-screen, you lose all respect for life. Virtual war is a rich country’s weapon, while the poor country resorts to terrorism.

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