Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Brandon Roy Takeover

If you love the NBA playoffs, which I do (I'm a Knicks fan unfortunately), you will love this. The last 3 min are great.

I am going to root for the Blazers for the rest of the playoffs, since the no heart Knicks are gone.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Rule of Ten

I have a simple rule. It is, if you lived in Egypt for more the 10 years you are delusional. There is only one way to get rid of this delusional-ness (i know that's not a word); being outside of Egypt for 20+ years. That is the only cure for the disease of the Jews are after us - It is the only cure for the Jews run the country - It is the only cure for there are no gay people in Egypt - It is the only cure for if you need anything (cell phone/car/watch/underwear/etc.) I have a boy who does that. This cure is called perspective.

Now, I know that not all people from Egypt are delusional, the same way not all people from America are delusional. There are definitely some in America that are delusional. Like those who want to keep America for Americans (I know this makes no sense). Like those who are afraid of colored people taking over "their" country. Like poor white people voting Republican. Like people burning books they have never read. These people need some perspective too.

So I propose that everyone go outside and introduce yourself to someone you would never otherwise introduce yourself to. I tried this experiment with my neighbor. He admitted that when we moved into our home, they said to themselves "what the hell is this". I have been trying to build a relationship with him, because I know that I will probably be the only Muslim he ever meets in his life. So when someone asks him about Islam, he thinks of me and my family; not the junk he sees on TV. Otherwise, I am going to have to keep blaming the Jews for the way people see us. I think it's time for everyone to get a little perspective, and look at things through the other persons lens. And what better way to do that than to actually ask?

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Egypt's New Political Reality

I don't know what Egypt's new political reality is, so let's find out from someone who does. I wanted to ask Dr. Dalia Fahmy about what is happening in Egypt, but it looks like someone beat me to the punch.

Damn, she's my cousin too. I feel slighted even though I actually never asked her.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Traumatic Experience

Courtesy of Mustafa Abbassi

So last night I get home from playing 2 hours of hard fought basketball around 11. Took a nice hot shower, changed into some comfy clothes and was about to start relaxing a bit before I went to bed. I was taking out the trash as my wife suggested I have some milk and cookies before bed. "Thats a great idea" I said. "I bought your favorite cookie, chips ahoy" Lobna added, "you just need to go get the milk from upstairs, your mom picked some up for us earlier." (I live in a mother-daughter home with my parents). So I took out the trash and quickly continued upstairs to retrieve the milk in excitement, as if a 9 year old was going to Toys R Us; come to think of it I act like a 9 year old when I go to Toy R Us; They have the coolest Star Wars toys. Anyway, I digress. Upon opening the fridge I saw two half-gallon cartons sitting on the shelf. One with a purple top and one with a red top. The purple top is certainly not for me; 2% stinks. So I grabbed the red top carton and ran downstairs. I handed the carton to my wife and asked her to pour me a cup while I went into the other room to put on a sweater; it was chili in the house.

So on my way to the living room I grabbed my milk and cookies from the kitchen; "efff yeah" I thought as chills began to move down my spine. I settled them onto the coffee table and moved the table at an angled position between my legs so it can sit right underneath my crumb dispensing mouth as I ate. Turned on the TV and switched to ESPN to catch all the highlights as I stepped into heaven for 5 minutes. Sports, milk, and cookies; hard to beat that. Broke the seal of the chips ahoy container as I opened it for the first time. Grabbed that first delicious cookie that stood out over the rest, placed it in the cup of milk and began waving it back and forth in a fanning motion to soak the cookie with as much milk as possible. I slowly began to move the cookie into my mouth, opening it as wide as I can to get a good chunk in. Slammed my mouth down and began chewing forcefully upon that cookie. "WHAT THE %$#!!!!!" My life began to flash before me; What did I do wrong? Why did I deserve this? Did I miss a prayer? Did I disrespect my parents in any way? What was it?! I.... I... I didnt know what was going on. I couldnt breathe. I didnt know what I should do. Something that seemed so perfect began to seem so punishing, torturing, so haram. I wasnt sure what to do. Should I get up, should I spit it out, should I cry? My wife saw me struggling after she heard a loud grunt. "Whats wrong?!!" she said with much worry. I tried to explain to her the pain but all that came out was gibberish. "smmmiiii eeeeeeeeee prrrrrrrrrrrrrgggg." I got up and ran to the kitchen; grabbed the garbage a furiously spit out that cookie. That cookie that represented success, good looks and everything attractive in this world now was the representative for hell fire, the devil, and was a symbol of all things disgusting. My wife and I were franticly thinking what was going on. I returned to the scene of the crime. The milk had to be it, Chips Ahoy never did me dirty like this. Milk on the other hand... So I picked up the glass and took a whiff. I didnt smell rotten but it didnt smell like milk. I was so confused. Milk that doesnt smell like milk. What the hell is going on. Was this the beginning of the end for me? Is the angel of death coming? Am I already dead? No no, thats not it. Snap out of it. Go check the carton, see what is going on here Mus. The signs are all there, in the fridge.

We ran to the kitchen like Sherlock and Watson, opened the fridge and....... HAAAAAA? WHAAAAA? They make that?!

(Click on link if you can't see the picture)

It took me two hours of chunking down Tropicana fruit punch and water to get rid of that disgusting taste. Freakin idiots, who puts yogurt drink into a classic milk carton. Thats like packaging magnesium citrate in a Poland Spring bottle. Sorry to bother you guys, but I was really traumatized by this experience and I had to share it. Milk and cookies were my not-guilty pleasure; my place of comfort that made me feel that everything was okay and there was nothing to worry about. But alas that is no more. Im not sure when I will return to milk and cookies. It may take some time to recover from this but God willing I will, one day. I will appreciate your prayers please; I need it in this difficult time.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Why so Sensitive

I realize everyone has their own sensitivities. But seriously, I don't care about your little sensitivities. Not only that, but I don't expect you to care about mine. What I do expect is that if I offend you, you can come to me and tell me, "when you did this, it offended me". And if you offend me, I will let you know as well. But what I don't care for is someone expecting me to know what their sensitivities are if I didn't know them before.

If you do not tell me this is an issue, I will not know. I cannot read your mind, and I do not want to read your mind. If you are easily offended, don't talk to me. I will offend you, and I will not stop unless you ask. Even then, if I dislike you, I probably won't stop either. So just don't come near me. But the biggest thing I am noticing is is that we are all a bunch of big babies.

When did we get so sensitive? I must have missed something. When did everyones little intricacies become everyone else's problems? I'm sure it has something to do with this new trend in pop culture "I am unique, I am special, I am my own person, and nobody is like me". Well I have some news for you. You are not unique or special. You are just like everyone else. A self centered baby who thinks you are more important than you really are. Get over yourself.

I am tired of being consumed by someone's issues when I have to interact with them. I have to chose my words carefully. I have to make sure my hand gestures are culturally appropriate (no wonder politicians look like idiots with their hands). So I decided not to be. I am going to be myself. Because I am unique and special; I am my own person, and nobody is like me. So deal with it.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Some Fun Videos

Pretty cool way to go through the history of your country

Bad Day at the Office

Random Walker Texas Ranger

An Oldie but a Goodie (remember Triumph)

Friday, March 25, 2011

12 Angry Men We're Not

A jury of your peers. My wife was telling me she was doing a project with her students asking them to figure out how to select a jury of peers. So I jokingly told her that I would just select 12 white guys. The idea of "a jury of your peers" is almost as ridiculous as "innocent until proven guilty". Her class, in their 40 minute session, put more effort in figuring out a jury of peers than the actual judicial system.

A couple of years ago, I got this little letter in the mail summoning me to Jury Duty. I went to serve my one day in a room of strangers waiting to be called on to do their civic duty. Unfortunately for me, I was actually called and was selected to be on a jury of a case of a man suing his bank (the actual amount of money was about $15k, and the poor man was representing himself). The biggest thing I remember is being inconvenienced and annoyed for three days having to listen to someone struggle through presenting his case, and the loser lawyer for the bank stinking at his job. I wanted them both to lose. Not because of the facts of the case, but that their little dispute about a closed or open account was inconveniencing my life.

But during the proceedings I was thinking about how I am this guys peer. The only thing we may have had in common is that we both paid our taxes. He was representing himself, spoke with a heavy accent and mumbled. So the fact that I had to strain to hear what he was saying made me dislike him. The lawyer for the Bank seemed like an arrogant jerk. But he was a mumbling jerk who thought he was the smartest guy in the room. When we were finally deliberating the case in the Jury Room, I looked around at the rest of the jury. We were a good mix of people; a microcosm of the area we were from. But what happens when a black man is accused of a crime in a very white area. Where are his peers? How can they relate to him, or understand what he has gone through. Do they understand his culture, his words, or the meaning of his actions?

Obviously the answer is they can't, because they are really not "a jury of peers", they are just tax payers doing a civic duty. Now, let's add another layer to this. If someone is arrested, do we really view them as innocent until a jury of their peers finds them guilty? The answer is that it is very difficult to assume someone is innocent until proven guilty within the justice system. If someone was truly innocent until proven guilty would they be detained in police custody through their trial?

Now, I know the practical matters of why the police do this, however it leads to other rights being given up. There are American citizens who are in custody today without charge. No date for a trial coming up. Nothing. They are just gone, disappeared off the face of the Earth. I am pretty sure this is not what the Founding Fathers had in mind when they wrote this and this.