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Showing posts from November, 2014

Movie Critic Article: The Black SuperHero

"There are heroes... there are superheroes... and then there's Hancock"

Article by: Elham Abdelkhalig*

The new thing about the movie Hancok(2008) is that it presents a black superhero which is a rare event if we look back into Hollywood's history where the typical image is that of a white, wealthy, kind, lovable and superstrong superhero. But does this movie present an
ideal black superhero? That is what I am going to work on.
The three characters I will engage with are, John Hancock the superhero, Ray Embrey a public relations man, and Mary who is Ray's wife.
John Hancock (Will Smith) is a black man, who is presented in this movie as a superhero with super- strength. He is immortal. He can fly and he has a natural bullet shield yet he is a homeless alcoholic who is vulgar, filthy and unshaved. He swears and some times he harasses women. Hancock's ethnic identity as a man of color categorizes him with radicalized groups. Being homeless and with no family implies…

بَزقَللِي، عفيف إسماعيل

"مُنمْنَمَة حِكائيَّة"

لا يُبادرُ بالتحيّة أبداً!، كما هو حالُ أهل مدينته الصّغيرة؛ الذين يَتصافحون في اليوم أكثرَ من مائة مرّةٍ بمودّةٍ صافية!، ولا يَطلبُ أيّ شيءٍ مِن أحَد!، ولا يَشكرُ أحداً على إحسانه إليه!، لكن كلّ مَن حوله يُدركون ماذا يرُيد فورَ حضوره، ويُبادرون بإعطائه قبل أن يَنطق بحرفٍ واحد، ويُطْرِقون خجلاً يخالجه ارتباكٌ فاضحٌ مصحوبٌ باحمرارٍ في الأعين والوجوه. دائماً تَغْشَى الأمكنةَ التي يَعبر بها يومياً سحابةٌ مهيبةٌ من الصّمت الـمُعْدِي تظلُّ عالقةً بفضاء المكان إلى حين ابتعاده، وتُشيِّعه نظراتٌ عطوفةٌ مصحوبةٌ بدعواتٍ وابتهالاتٍ صادقةٍ تَدعو له بالرّحمة ولُطف القضاء. صاحِب البقالة يُعطيه ستَّ سيجارات روثمان وكبريت، ونصف رطل من السكّر، وقليلاً من الشاي، وبعض توابل، وصابوناً لغسل الملابس.

Nectar! This Morning by Shakir Abdalrahim

Nectar! This Morning

By Shakir Abdalrahim himself. The romantic guy with a matchless technique of baring behind fret No.12 in a standardly tuned guitar. A swift, brief arrest. A second of incarceration in a chord. A bonus for the listening ear.
Shakir will always be associated with this simple shift achieved by his pinky. He loves simple arpeggios that emanate of fleeting auditory bliss. His style has remained the same since we used to sit for hours listening and playing through the night in that past of uncertain pleasures and illusory colors orchestrated by poverty, unease and unrelenting hope.
Shakir's style is simplicity that oozes with quality sounds.

اعتداء، طه جعفر

اعتداءبقلم طه جعفر

كان مهتماً و منزعجاً قليلاً  و ربما خائف و لو لا هذا الارتباك لما فعلها فالوقت متأخر، ليس من احتمال لأي بص أو تاكسي أو حتى دفّار، الحركة قليلة في الطريق. شمال سوق ود نوباوي في هذا الوقت من الليل. يمر قليلٌ من رواد

An Entity Unknown By: Mohamed Hamad- Translated From Arabic

Text by: Mohamed HamadTranslated by: Mustafa Mudathir

There is a tiny mystery;
an entity unknown that hymenates our souls for reasons undisclosed with a plasticine of thinness a sleazy film of boredom to blunt our insistence in dealing with existence. And verily those same songs,  enchanted as they are that ornament affect, the deepest and inmost, are turned to mere phonations that tend to bore at most.
The things you sought with passion are now dispelled around you devoid of early value, or heavily under-rationed. You like it, oh! no more, the stretching on your bed Nor do you like rising and nothing is surprising.
Your cup of tea, whose edges

حكايات قصيرة، حسن الجزولي

عندما راح يحكي معاناة المتطوعين في تلك الحرب اللعينة التي فُرضت عليهم فانتزعتهم من أحضان أسرهم وضحكات أطفالهم إلى أتون تلك المعارك، كان السحاب يتجمع في فضاء السماء الزرقاء بالخارج، ثم واصل الحكايات عن معاناتهم، دون أن يتطرق بشكل تفصيلي لما حلّ به هو شخصياً، كان يتحدث بحيادية دون أن يحمل أي ضغائن حتى للجانب الآخر من الذين كانوا يحاربونهم، إعتبر أن الجميع ضحايا لمواقف متشابكة ومتباينة من ناحية التقديرات والمواقف ووجهات النظر، في تلك الليلة وهم داخل ذاك العنبر الذي جمعهم مع أشتات من شعوب وقبائل أخرى  داخل المعسكر النائي، لمع البرق فجأة وانهمرت السماء مدراراً. عنّ له أن يمارس لهوه الجنوني وهو طفل في قريته، فخلع ببطء حذائه العسكري، ومد رجله الخشبية خارج نافذة العنبر، فبللت قطرات المطر الخشب السميك، بينما أخذ هو غفوة. 

Without Her (2)

Without Her (2)

She cast aside her charms for the sake of an intellectual image. That did not bother you. Keeping her by your side was all that mattered. You felt you could defer your yearning, you lust and build on them to a great promise. Oh God! was that why she went with the goalkeeper? because of..Where is his photo? I always wanted that album here and open! That's him. I clipped this from a sports magazine on the eve of their marriage. Tha caption blames a recent defeat on him. Mark this! His physique was more attracting than athletic. Then she made a choice that would not have occurred to you. Of course you knew that women marry for reasons you cannot foretell. They also marry without obvious reasons and, again without you being concerned

After getting married, he moved her from her culture-reviving ambiance to a peripheral setting fraught with infra-subsistence revelations and burgeoning emotions. Very early on, she dropped her previous contention for abortion along with t…

Without Her (1)

Without Her (1)
On The Ambiguity Of Probability

I see them descending there; in the quivering haze of a mirage. Their statures break slowly until I barely discern whether they were human or merely obscured images? Some of their details slide to float away, making me think they would perish in the haze. But before long they would catch up with those critical details of theirs and emerge. The knock of their boots echoing in a shoreless expanse.
And, away have I distanced myself!
Away from all appeals have I taken to chopping my firewood;
anticipating a long and cold winter without her, without a ripple; a comeback.
Things take their course while I watch.
Paths get stirred by my silence.
In every detail, it is the same whether I am surprised or not.
I have to remember what happened had to happen! All contexts were to round up regardless of my emanations into what they impact. So what do need I need me for?
But these a priori conclusions
are never to be reached until you arrive at those t…

Hey Buffoon!

Hey, buffoon! Cling tightly! Beware falling apart! Beware and be alert! Bend your ears to every sign of movement Keep watch on your own shadowand, when the leaves rustle, Shut yourself off and keep still! Life is so dangerous, buffoon. Open fire! Bullets aimed at everythingevery word utteredevery breeze passingwithout your permissionMy lord buffoon. Instruct the sparrows, the village lanterns, the towns' windows, every whispering blade of grassto report to you. As police, let the ants infiltrateand build the security stateAsk the raindropsto write their reports, Buffoon...
From Mahjoub Sherif's poem Ya Bahlawi on shah Iran.The arabic text is here.Mahjoub Sharif, Martin Luther King, Pussy Riot (Russian pop group), an artist from Tibet, 
Snowden (SNA contractor, WikiLeaks) are among twelve prisoners of conscience to be saluted by Chinese artist Ai Wei Wei, himself barred from leaving China. The exhibition is set to take place in former Alcatraz prison, off San Francisco where each…

منصور الصويم، صلاة

منصور الصويم
الصلاة خلاص. وما منجاة للجسد سوى الجسد. وهي، الساهمة أبداً، لو قُيض لها تسجيل معادلة أوانها لكتبتها هكذا. فجسده أمامها الآن، في كامل عريه البشري: محطم ومدمر ومصاب بكافة أعطاب وشروخ الحياة.