The Syrian Rap

Hysteria in Syria
they’ve lost their equilibria
it’s causing wide dysphoria
no food and getting wearier
no water aid criteria
some praying to their god Allah
and others to the Curia
depends on their insignia
But everyone is angrier
Assad has monomania
he’s fixed on his dystopia
while all around is bloodier
His wife is getting bitchier
her greedy hands are itchier
for dresses from Pierre Cardin
or trendy shoes from Louboutin Continue reading

Addressing Al

I was writing a rant recently about a member of the ruling al-Assad family of Syria – the wife I think,  Marie-Antoinette or whatever her name is – the blind, dumb, deaf simian posing as a dictators wife but actually a morally-bereft product of the British privileged class. But I digress. Anyway, my fingers vacillated over the keyboard momentary as I typed her surname – they always do when I am typing an Arabic name. But this time I decided that I would make good on a former good intention to delve into Sumerian grammar and learn the correct usage of the word ‘al’ in order to prevent future interruptions to my train of thought as I strive to become a better blogger. I thought my findings worth sharing with anyone who notices the increasing occurrence of eastern matters in our western world and recognises the importance of protocol and polite communication with our fellow man. Continue reading

Desert Rose

Asma to blog3

Asma al-Assad (36) is the glamorous First Lady of Syria, a Londoner from a privileged background who graduated from King’s College and worked in international finance at JP Morgan before marrying the wealthy and westernised eye surgeon whose father was the then President of Syria. She must have known at the time that her new father-in-law conducted the (original) Hama massacre back in 1982 when an estimated 20,000 died in a single night.

Despite that, the latest unrest in Syria has taken Asma by surprise. Due to bothersome international sanctions against her adopted country, she is unable to get the (northern) summer collection of the jewel-encrusted Louboutin shoes she is so attached to. It is also reasonable to assume that she has by now emptied her last musical tin of Fortnum & Masons English Digestive biscuits. Worse, the once dubbed ‘English Rose of the Desert’ is today whispered to rank alongside Elena Ceaușescu,  or Lady Macbeth, perhaps even one of the “tricoteuses” of the French revolution who knitted in their front-row seats through the daily performance of another trendy Madame – the guillotine. Continue reading