Mr. shit goes to New York

September 23, 2011

Mr. shit (Ahmadinejad) has gone to New York, again. The shitty story of Mr. shit’s travels to the US has become very boring, but Iranians still are angry at the US, especially when they see how American jerks treat the chief of thugs and thieves like Iran’s President. After 2009, Iranians knew the true color of the American jerks in the American mass media and in Washington. Iranians truly believe: “The Americans jerks are the main supporter of the Mullahs. The American media, form VOA to NBC, the ex-CIA agents, the American polling agencies, the stupid bastard Obama, etc have showed us their true colors. We never ever forget what happened in 2009. Even if we forget the CIA coup of 1953 in Iran, we will never forget what they did in 2009.” It’s really true. We will never forget. The stupid Obama has said in his UN Speech: “In Iran, we’ve seen a government that refuses to recognize the rights of its own people. The Syrian people have shown dignity and courage in their pursuit of justice, dying for the same values that this institution is supposed to stand for. And the question for us is clear: Will we stand with the Syrian people, or with their oppressors? ” And the answer is clear, too: “Until now, you have stood with the Syrian dictator.” But the main question is: “In 2009, did you stand with the Iranian people, or with their oppressors, the Mullahs? ” And the answer is very clear. You stood with the Mullahs, sent them secret letters, and made dirty secret deals with Khamenei. Shame on you, American jerks.


As we said before, in the recent days the American jerks and the American ass-kissers welcomed Mr. shit warmly . The western ass-kissers and American jerks in the western media, from the NBC to the New York Times support Mr. shit, the coup President. The stupid Guardian said: “All UN eyes on Friday will be fixed on Ahmadinejad”! and the stupid New York Times said: “Mr. President, welcome to New York. Thank you very much for taking the time” !! The jerks and assholes in the western media love Mr. shit and his bullshits. They call him “Iran’s President”, while Mr. shit is “Western Media’s President” and “Mullah’s President”, not Iran’s President. This little piece of shit is just a coup President, a fake President of a hated regime, that Iranians hate them very much. But the western media and the western jerks love him and support him. Shame on them all.


The ordinary Americans know nothing about secret talks and secret deals between the Mullah agents and American agents , but small groups try to protest against the coup President of the Mullahs. The ordinary Americans don’t know that the American hikers have been freed as a part of a secret dirty deal between the Mullahs and the US. The NBC scandal can show us a small part of this dirty shameful deal. Now, the American hikers have left Iran, and a new groups of Mullah agents have arrived in the US, to join the other members of Mullah Mafia in the US, and to join the Mullah TV’s office in Washington. Shame on the American jerks, who are the main supporter of the Mullahs. As we said before, In 2011, the stupid Obama allowed the Mullahs to have a TV’s studio in Washington. Shame on you Obama. Shame on you, man.


Mr. shit’s speech in the UN is nothing except a pile of boring shit. Only the stupid lefts can love his nonsense shitty speech. The little piece of shit, is the biggest lair among the other liars in the UN. All politicians in the UN tell lies, but the biggest possible lair is Mr. shit. The second place is for Chavez, Bastard Assad, and the dead bastard Gaddafi. Iranians only laugh at the stupid jerks in the western media, who cover Mr. shit’s speech or care about him and his bullshit. Mr. shit is a straw hero for the western media, but in Iran and for Iranians, he is nothing except a little piece of shit and a big thief whose embezzlements are the largest embezzlements in Iran’s history .


The stupid jerks in the American media love Mr. shit, and their interviews with him are so disgusting, much more disgusting than the Mullah media’s interviews’ with him . In these days, the New York Times’ interview with Mr. shit, on September 20, 2011, is as shitty as NBC’s interview or ABC’s interview with him. The New York Times’ reporter, Nicholas Kristof, that is like the American bitch of the NBC, ask Mr shit these shitty questions: “You said on Sept. 13 that the American hikers would be free in a couple of days. Are you not speaking for the complete Iranian government? Are there other forces trying to block them? On another aspect of Iranian/US relations, you have raised the possibility that if the US were willing to provide low enriched uranium, 20 percent grade, that Iran would stop enriching to that level. Is that offer still on the table? In terms of opportunities for a dialogue between Iran and the US [i.e. between the Mullahs and the US], do you see any difference between President Obama and his administration and that of George W. Bush? [!!!!] when you saw the photo of Neda Soltan, what did you think?!! [the American jerks only know Neda, and pretend ignorance about other hundreds martyrs] As you look ahead to another 20 years, say, from now, what kind of a country do you foresee? Do you foresee it becoming closer to the West? [!]”


The American jerks in the American mass media are like the American Baboon, the ex-CIA agent, who supports the Mullahs and Mr. shit . Now, Iranians say: “The American jerks are like the British bastards, who are the Mullah makers. We hate the American jerks and the British bastards as much as we hate the Mullahs, and as much as the Europeans of 1940s hated the Nazis and the Fascists. The American jerks and the British bastards are the main supporters of the Mullahs and the Mullah regime. The stupid lefts who are the main supporter of all savage tyrants in the world, support these stupid bastards too. Shame on them all.” It’s really shameful that while all Iranians hate the Mullahs and the Mullah regime, the western jerks and the western media make love with the Mullahs and Mullah agents. The history will not forget these shameful hypocrisy. Now Iranians say: “Hey, American jerks, We will not Forget. We watch you, and we never forget”.

Albert Camus’s “The Plague”, 1

September 23, 2011

Albert Camus (1913-1960) was a real intellect, and his “The Plague” is the story of our time. Camus was one of the wise guys in 1940s and 1950s. In 1957, he received the Nobel Prize for literature, but it’s not as important as Camus’s open mind. His attack on Stalinist Communism in “The Rebel” (1951) ended his friendship with (stupid) Sartre, who at that time still supported Stalin. . Albert Camus was not a lunatic left, like the other stupid western intellects of his time. Camus was briefly a member of the Communist Party, but very soon saw the depth of their stupidity. In 1940, he became involved in the Resistance movement against the occupying Nazis, and he began writing for the underground newspaper Combat in 1943. He also published his first major works. The Plague (1947) is one of them. ‘The Plague’ is Albert Camus’s most successful novel. It was published in 1947, when Camus was 33, and was an immediate triumph . Within a year it had been translated into nine languages. It has never been out of print and was established as a classic of world literature even before its author’s untimely death in a car accident in January 1960. The Plague is the book by which Camus is known to millions of readers. In “The Plague”, Camus wrote about the plague of his own time, i.e. “Nazism and Fascism” and its roots. The Plague is an allegorical story. The Plague is the story of our time in 2010s, too. As Camus said” The plague bacillus never dies or vanishes entirely; it can remain dormant for dozens of years in furniture or clothing; it waits patiently in bedrooms, cellars, trunks, handkerchiefs and old papers, and perhaps the day will come when, for the instruction or misfortune of mankind, the plague will rouse its rats and send them to die in some well-contented city .” Now let’s take a look at excerpts of “The Plague”, that is an allegorical story of our current world. Our excerpts are a very compact version of “The Plague”, and will be published in four parts. Here are the first part:

“Oran is an ordinary town … It has to be said that the town itself is ugly. Its appearance is calm and it takes some time to appreciate what makes it different from so many other trading ports all over the world … A convenient way of getting to know a town is to find out how people work there, how they love and how they die … That is to say that people are bored and that they make an effort to adopt certain habits. Our fellow-citizens work a good deal, but always in order to make money. They are especially interested in trade and first of all, as they say, they are engaged in doing business. Naturally, they also enjoy simple pleasures: they love women, the cinema and sea bathing . But they very sensibly keep these activities for Saturday evening and Sunday, while trying on other days of the week to earn a lot of money. In the evenings, when they leave their offices, they gather at a set time in cafes, they walk along the same boulevard or else they come out on their balconies. The desires of the youngest among them are short and violent, while the lives of their elders are limited to clubs for players of boules, dinners of friendly associations or groups where they bet heavily on the turn of a card … Something more distinctive about our town is how difficult it can be to die there. ‘Difficult’ is not actually the right word; it is more a question of discomfort. It is never pleasant being ill, but there are towns and countries which support you in sickness and where one can, as it were, let oneself go . A sick person needs tenderness, he quite naturally likes to lean on something. But in Oran, the extreme climate, the amount of business going on, the insignificance of the surroundings, the speed with which night falls and the quality of pleasure, all demand good health. A sick person is very lonely here … You will understand what could be disagreeable about death, even a modern one, when it happens in such a dry place. Even so this meager information may give a sufficient idea of our town. In any event, one should not exaggerate. It is important to stress the ordinariness of the town and its life. But one easily passes the time away when one has a routine. To the very extent that our town encourages routine, one might say that all is for the best. Admittedly, seen like that, life is not too exciting. At least disorder is unknown among us. And our people, open, likeable and energetic, have always elicited a fair degree of respect from travelers … By now, it will be easy to accept that nothing could lead the people of our town to expect the events that took place in the spring of that year and which, as we later understood, were like the forerunners of the series of grave happenings that this history intends to describe. To some people these facts will seem quite natural; to others, on the contrary, improbable. … On the morning of April 16, Dr Bernard Rieux emerged from his consulting-room and came across a dead rat in the middle of the landing. At the time he pushed the animal aside without paying attention to it and went down the stairs . But once he was in the street it occurred to him that the rat should not have been there and he turned back to inform the concierge. The concierge’s, Old Michel, reaction made him still more aware of the incongruity of his discovery. To him the presence of this dead rat had seemed merely odd, while for the concierge it was an outrage. In fact, the man was adamant: there were no rats in the house. However much the doctor assured him that there was one on the first-floor landing, probably dead, Michel’s conviction was firm. There were no rats in the house, so this one must have been brought in from outside. In short, it was a practical joke . That same evening Rieux was standing in the corridor of the building, looking for his keys before going up to his flat, when he saw a large rat emerge hesitantly from the dark depths of the corridor, its fur damp. The creature stopped, seemed to be trying to get its balance, stopped again, spun round and round with a faint cry and eventually fell, blood spurting from its half-open lips. The doctor looked at it for a moment, then went upstairs. “The next day, April 17, at 8 o’clock, the concierge stopped the doctor as he went past and accused some jokers of having put three dead rats in the middle of the corridor. They must have been caught with large traps because they were covered in blood. … Rieux was intrigued and decided to start his rounds in the outer districts where the poorest of his patients lived . Here the rubbish was collected much later in the dayand his car, driving along the straight, dusty roads of this area, brushed against boxes of rubbish lying on the edge of the pavement. In one street he drove down in this way the doctor counted a dozen rats, tipped out on the dirty rags and vegetable peelings … Rieux was soon to find that the whole district was talking about the rats .”

“When he had finished his visits he went home … The telegram was to tell Rieux that his mother was arriving the next day. She would be looking after her son’s house while his sick wife was away … Rambert came straight to the point. He was doing an investigation for a large Parisian newspaper about the living conditions of the Arabs and wanted information about their state of health. Dr. Rieux told him that their health was not good … The doctor told him that there was an intriguing report to be written about the number of dead rats that were turning up in the town at the moment. … The next morning, April 18, the doctor was bringing his mother home from the station and found Michel looking even more poorly: from the cellar to the attic, there were a dozen rats lying on the stairs. The dustbins in the neighboring houses were full of them. The doctor’s mother was not surprised when he told her. ‘Things like that happen.’ … Rieux phoned the district rodent control service, where he knew the director. Had he heard about these rats which were emerging in large numbers and dying in the open? Yes, he had been informed; they had even discovered more than fifty of them in his own offices, which were not far from the port … His cleaner had just told him that they had picked up several hundred dead rats in the large factory where her husband worked. In any event, it was around this time that our townspeople started to become concerned. Indeed, from the 18th onwards, factories and warehouses began to produce hundreds of bodies of dead rats … That was the day the evening papers picked up the matter, asking if the civic authorities intended to do something, or not, and what emergency measures had they planned to protect the public from this disgusting infestation. The authorities had not considered or planned anything at all, but started by holding a council meeting to discuss it. An order was given to the rodent control service to collect the dead rats every morning at dawn. When the collection was over, two of the service’s vans should take the animals to the waste incineration plant to have them burnt. Despite this, in the days that followed the situation got worse. The number of rodents picked up continued to increase and the harvest was greater morning by morning. After the fourth day the rats started to emerge in groups to die. They came up from basements and cubby-holes, cellars and drains, in long swaying lines; they staggered in the light, collapsed and died, right next to people. At night, in corridors and side-streets, one could clearly hear the tiny squeaks as they expired. In the morning, on the outskirts of town, you would find them stretched out in the gutter with a little floret of blood on their pointed muzzles, some blown up and rotting, others stiff, with their whiskers still standing up. In the town itself you found them in small heaps, on landings or in the courtyards of houses. They also came to die, one by one, in council offices, in schoolyards, sometimes on the terraces of cafes. Our fellow-citizens were amazed to come across them in the busiest parts of town . The parade-ground, the boulevards and the sea-front promenade were contaminated by them at intervals. Cleared of its dead animals at dawn, the town got them back through the day in increasing numbers. More than one person walking at night along the pavement would experience the feeling of the elastic bulk of a still fresh corpse under his feet … Things got to the point where Infodoc (the agency for information and documentation, ‘all you need to know on any subject’) announced in its free radio news program that 6,231 rats had been collected and burned in a single day, the 25th . This figure, which gave a clear meaning to the daily spectacle that everyone in town had in front of their eyes, disconcerted them even more. Up to then people had merely complained about a rather disgusting accident. Now they saw that there was something threatening in this phenomenon , the extent and origin of which was not yet clear to them … However, on April 28 Infodoc announced a collection of around eight thousand rats and anxiety reached its peak in the town. People called for radical measures, accusing the authorities of inaction, and some families who had seaside homes were already talking about escaping to them. But the following day the agency announced that the phenomenon had abruptly stopped and that the rodent control service had gathered only an insignificant number of dead rats. The town heaved a sigh of relief. Yet it was on that same day, at twelve, that Dr Rieux, pulling up in his car in front of his block of flats, saw the concierge at the end of the street, walking along painfully, his head bent forward, his arms and legs akimbo, like a puppet. … Rieux looked into the dark corners of the corridors and asked Grand, the civil servant, if the rats had entirely vanished from the area. Grand had no idea. Certainly people had spoken a good deal about the business, but he paid very little attention to rumors in the neighborhood …The vendors of the evening papers were shouting that the invasion of rats had ended