South Park and Free Speech

"Free speech carries with it the freedom to listen"

-Bob Marley

So this is kind of a departure from the theme of this blog about my writing, but then again, it's still related to writing because it's about something huge that all writers care about: censorship.

The Internet is abuzz over the South Park controversy of an episode that depicted the Prophet Muhammad in a bear suit. A website called RevolutionMuslim.com issued a warning statement that the South Park creators could end up like Theo Van Gogh, a Dutch filmmaker who was killed by a Muslim extremist upset over Gogh's film of Islam being violent towards women. (Why weren't they as outraged by violence that is going on towards women though? Islam doesn't promote that, of course, but sadly there are Muslim governments that do appease it and let it go. But that's an entirely different post.)

Now the owners of the RevolutionMuslim website have said they are not actually threatening the creators, but they are just stating facts based on what has happened in the past to other individuals who have depicted the Prophet Muhammad in any manner, especially in a negative light.

As a Muslim and writer, I am appalled by this. The Islamic belief that no prophet be drawn because it could lead to idolatry has been so exploited by desperate, uneducated Muslims. Why is it the end of the world if someone else depicts him? They clearly are not worshipping him and it is part of comedy just like the show behaves towards all other religious figures. 

Muslims are not unique in getting special treatment for our holy figures. Those same Muslims who are issuing death threats and more certainly do not respect other religion's figures. Instead of being irrational and childish by threatening violence, they should explain their concerns through writing, letters and such about why they feel insulted or hurt by the depictions. That's free speech as well.

What annoys me is how only a couple Muslims act out like this and the media says that all Muslims are reacting in that manner. But we're not. The problem is that if it bleeds, it leads, so it's so much easier to make the situation seem like that. It only makes the Muslim community look more intolerant, backwards and sensitive.

Yes, any kind of insult towards the Prophet Muhammad, Prophet Jesus, Prophet Moses or the religion of Islam hurts me, but I'm strong enough in my faith to not let it have any effect on me. Free speech is very important and in many parts of the world, it is not respected nor tolerated. If we want to stop discrimination against us, then Muslims need to stop discrimination of others as well, whether we agree with their opinion or not.

And lastly, if these so-called Muslims want to honor and defend the Prophet, do they not understand that by thirsting for violence they are doing the opposite? When the Swedish and Danish cartoons depicted the Prophet as a violent person and then Muslims rallied to kill them, don't they see how idiotic and stupid that is? They are doing exactly what the cartoonists are accusing everyone in our religion of doing. If you don't like them calling the Prophet violent, then prove it by showing him we are not violent people and instead are rational, mature and cooperative.

When the Prophet Muhammad was persecuted, threatened and mocked by the townspeople, he never retaliated against them. He prayed for them. He even asked on the behalf of a woman who used to throw animal intestines on him while he prayed on his own in the mosque. That humility, patience and forgiveness is the example of the Prophet that Muslims all over the world should live by and defend. No one is going to believe Muslims are peaceful if we don't act that way.

Obviously we can't stop the fringe from behaving that way, but we can sure make a difference in preventing that fringe from growing and making sure we emphatically condemn threatening free speech as much as we can. Actions speak louder than words, so please join me in signing this petition in support of free speech:http://www.irshadmanji.com/petition

I'm an American Muslim and I believe in free speech, equal rights and respect. I may not agree or like caricatures of my religion or anyone's religion, but that's what entertainment does-make people laugh at the expense of others and that's just something we have to live with in order to secure our freedom. Cartoons like South Park are not intelligent critiques of religion so I could honestly care less what they say. I don't support hate speech and believe we all have a right to stand up to it, but we should let the law and courts deal with it. We are not lawless people, vigilantes who go out and do what we wish without thinking of others. I wish more Muslims would be as vocal against those terrorists who are giving us a bad name than little cartoonists or writers who aren't hurting anyone but their own intelligence and conscience. 

Our religion can stand up to and cooperate with reason, courage and restraint just like anyone else, so let's actually show that, shall we? We live in a pluralistic, diverse, multi-religious society where we must cede certain preferences in order to be in harmony with others. You can't have everything your way. The world just doesn't work like that.

Sorry to get all political on you guys, but this is something I'm very passionate about and the writing community I know should have some sort of opinion on it. Judy Blume probably does:)

In the Zone

" It always seems impossible until its done."

-Nelson Mandela

So despite my awesome and peculiar idea for a short story, I failed to enter the NPR Fiction Writing Contest. I know, I know cue the "awwww" sound.

It was those dreaded sirens YouTube and Facebook, I swear! I could not resist!

Actually, it was also that I went out of town and did not bring a laptop with me so I was disconnected from the world for a few days. It was quite frightening, I tell you. I didn't realize how much my life revolves around Internet, email, online news and such. It's nice to just get away from it all and get back to basics.

The reason I went out of town was to attend a school trip to Oklahoma City to visit the National Memorial Museum where the 1995 Oklahoma City bombings happened. We were learning about terrorism and the press, how the media covers it as well as what is terrorism really. 

It was so fascinating to see the museum and learn about a domestic terror event that I don't even remember because I was only four at the time. The museum was incredibly well done and hit the perfect tone of solemnness, hope and courage for the survivors and the whole community. 

We also got to talk to an amazing man, Mike Boettcher, a former CNN correspondent and veteran in covering global terrorism. We met lots of really interesting people thanks to our professor and being a part of the Cronkite school. Everyone knows us so we get a lot of priveleges:)

But it wasn't all work. One evening we got to watch The Green Zone, starring Matt Damon as Officer Roy Miller. The movie although very fictionalized is an account of a soldier in Iraq who uncovers the conspiracy over the lack of WMDs and how America knew that and still went in, fabricating information in order to have authority to create a democracy in the country. It's "inspired" by a non-fiction book by a Washington Post reporter Raji Chandresekaren called  Imperial Life in the Emerald City. 

It looks like the only things the movie and book have in common are the setting and theme, otherwise the whole character of Matt Damon finding out about the nonexistent WMDs isn't true. But I guess that's Hollywood. The movie was really good though and I'm not really into pointless action movies. I don't flinch at blown up cars and shaky camera scenes. Well I do, but not in a good way.

I watched the movie not just from an average viewer but as a writer which made me notice several things:

• This movie had a compelling plot, although pretty simple, and made you follow the mystery the whole way through as you yearned to find out why the soldiers were being sent to sites that didn't have anything there and no one would listen to Matt Damon. Everyone should listen to Matt Damon! If it was over complicated then I would have lost interest. War and politics are already so confusing and complex that people don't want to have anything to do with it. You don't want readers to think that about your writing.

• It's possible to draw people into a story that they might not know anything about by adding human interest and emotional conflict because that's what everyone relates to and will be thinking about as the story goes on. I loved the character of Freddi, an Iraqi citizen with one leg, that just wants to do what's best for his country even it means helping the American invaders. What would I do? Would I trust that guy when everyone says not to? Do I do the right thing or the easy thing?

So I'm not really sure how they were able to craft this implausible story out of Chandresekaren's book, but it's definetly going to make people want to read it now. I sure do. But it's going to be a looong time before I get to it. I have a list of about 50 books I want/need to read and I've barely made a mark on it.

This is my current read for one of my classes, but it's one that I'm enjoying a lot because I love Nelson Mandela and am very interested in the history of South Africa's apartheid.

You have a face for radio... and a story to match

Fresh off my entrance in the Sparknotes Fiction Contest, I'm planning on entering this interesting one from NPR (National Public Radio.)

NPR Fiction Writing Contest
No more than 600 words
Deadline- Sunday, April 11, 2010. Must be received by 11:59 p.m. Eastern Time

To be qualified for the Contest, an entry must include only one (1) fictional story (each, a "Story"). The Story must include all of the following words, which may be used as nouns, adjectives or verbs of any tense:
plant
fly
trick
button
The Judge will select one (1) Contest Winner, based on the following criteria, weighted equally: (a) originality; (b) creativity; and (c) overall quality of writing.

I have absolutely no idea what to write about or how to use those four plain words, but I'm excited. I have a school trip Thursday to Saturday, but hopefully I'll be able to get enough work done before that so I won't miss the deadline. This is such a huge platform. I can't even imagine what I would do if I won or became a finalist!?!

These short story contests are like little battery chargers for me while I rest for who knows how long from my novel. It's taken me much longer than I thought to finish my NaNo novel, but atleast I'm further than what I would be if I hadn't tried at all.

So that's saying something.

A Sorceress Spurned

**This is my entry for the Sparknotes Musical Fiction Contest. Try to guess what song it's based on:)

Honey honey, the bees sing to me. One by one, they land on my cheek as I rock back and forth in my chemise hammock  The softness of their legs and fluttering of their wings wakes me from my reverie. I move my hand and slowly crush the bees between my fingers.

They are not who I wanted to wake up to.

I let my hand fall to the ground and the breeze whisks their dead bodies into the pool of wine beside me. I want the bees to float over the white sand into the sea and follow his boat onto the horizons, so that when he looks into the choppy waters, he might stop and think of what he did to me.

Pah! Odysseus knows full well what he did to me. I gave that man a choice and he rejected me-the sentimental fool.

I hear a squeal and snort behind me. I look over my shoulder to see two of my potbellies sniffing the gardenias and jasmine flowers lining the cave walls. I get up to wave them away. They love destroying my beautiful work no matter how much I yell. I swear they are determined to taunt my only pleasurable past time.
 
Normally, I would have drowned the exasperating creatures, but I have learned to control my temperament somewhat. I would never change myself for any one, especially not a man, but Odysseus had been different. I learned carefully what pleased his soul, made his mind wander or heart beat faster. I also learned he did not share my amusement in turning men into swine.

The pigs squeal again and trot to the mouth of the cave. The sky is dark and I feel the blue rush over my tired body. The clouds opens and a sheet of rain begins to fall. A show is beginning,a grand performance of lightning, thunder and howling wind. My pitiful companions watch in adoration as I sit down on a plush chair behind them and began eating from a vine of white grapes.

How silly of me to sit here pining away when I am safe on this island and he is out battling the wayward ocean storm at the mercy of Poseidon.
      
Why did I promise Odysseus a safe return? I could have lied when I advised him on taking the most cautious path home for spite, but what good would my deals be if no one trusted me? I would never receive any more visitors of mortal or godly status and become even more hated, even though I don’t wish to be around another soul as long as I live-which is unfortunately a damned eternity.

Well look where that goodness got me. Now I am alone in my home, which is nothing but a hollow land of enchantments, trinkets and memories of our time together. I still wear the necklace of shells and pearls he strung together for me in a drunken stupor one night. I bubbled with glee in thinking that he was finally giving up what he had-his past, his home, his wife and son.

But I was stupid to think Odysseus would forget everything. When he overpowered my spells, I should have known he’d bring me trouble. For once, I had met my match, a feeling most unnerving and enthralling. I realized I would not have to pursue him the way I had imagined, not like with his dimwitted seamen and those who came before them.

Thunder crackles through the darkness awakening the same raw anger inside me so fast my back stiffens. How could I have lost to ghost of an old wife? Was I not flesh and blood beating, bursting right in front of his eyes? We shared embraces that were far from boredom or desperation. Didn’t I show him how I would care for him in every way yet never nag or bore him? The nerve of that man to grow tired of my companionship!

If only I had laced him with more sweet affection and crafted a stronger, more perfect love. But after Odysseus, I feel my identity as a sorceress weaken. All my jars and bottles have been sitting uselessly, cast aside in dusty chests. Somewhere along the way, I became a simple woman and came to the infuriating realization that he couldn’t be captured like an element or herb in one of my potions. I can only imagine how lesser, homely women react in his presence. Hopefully, I haven’t debased myself too greatly.

No, there wasn’t a single thing I did wrong but even so, my island and I will soon be but a waypoint on his journey. I will be a tale Odysseus will spin into a dangerous encounter with a sly, bewitching woman on a lonely island and they will laugh and sigh, then retreat to their chambers after a lavish feast on golden platters.

I set down my half-eaten vine with a sudden desire to walk out into the rain. The pigs grunt and roll over on their sides as I move past them. Raising my hands up and closing my eyes, I relish the droplets of sustenance that is falling on our skin at the same time-me on dry land, he on the sea.

Perhaps Odysseus is thinking of me now, wishing he had abandoned his fruitless quest. Perhaps he is holding back the impulse to stop and order his crew to turn the ship around. I hope the cold wind bites his watery soul and make him yearn for my arms.

It isn’t worth risking your life to glory, but they never learn.

I feel a light kick inside and touch my stomach gently under my soaked gown. I turn back into the cave to dry off, knowing even if he wanted to, he wouldn't come back.


** Based on the song "Honey, Honey" by Feist. It's on my playlist on the blog, so check it out and have another read while you listen to it. Hopefully it fits well:)

creative lollygagging

"It's spring fever.  That is what the name of it is.  And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!"

 -Mark Twain

It's spring break and my mind is happily at ease sleeping (yay for snoozing), eating (a real kitchen!), writing (hello neglected journal) and reading(Prep is really good!) Unfortunately, I also have homework yuck. With only one week, I find it very unfair to have to divide time between socializing, homework and personal time.

 If it weren't for my homework, I would be writing full speed ahead on my Sparknotes Fiction Contest entry which I really want to finish before going back to school. I'm stuck between 3 different songs now, so it's even more frustrating.

I'm also pushing through my NaNo novel. I laugh now that that I thought I would finish it by the end of December. That was a horrible miscalculation. I remember reading somewhere that the first draft is like the rough sketching of a picture before it's painted, so that's how I'm trying to approach my novel. I have no idea where it's going at times as I try to connect each point and each scene. Sometimes it feels too rushed or that I'm ignoring certain characters or not attending to certain story lines, but I shouldn't really expect all of it to make sense at this point, right?

For now I'm soaking up good music, weird art, current movies and amazing photography to hopefully allow all those creative geniuses soak into me and allow something to click. After all, it's break, this is when my imagination should be it's best.

musical fiction story

So this is Sparknotes 2nd fiction contest. You should enter it too! I had a great response from my last entry, which sparked my other blog Zac Serves It Right otherwise known as Lunch is Served. I love contests like this because they're short and sweet and focused, which makes me more motivated and encouraged to enter and actually FINISH lol.

RULES

Entry period: March 1 — March 31

Story length: 2,000 words max

What to send:
1) Your username
2) Your story, pasted into the body of an email
3) The title of your story
4) The name of the song on which your story is based

Where to send your entry: missmarm@sparknotes.com

bitter love story

"Remember writing doesn't love you. It doesn't care. Nevertheless, it can behave with remarkable generosity. Speak well of it, encourage others, pass it on."

Dear Journal,


I hope you enjoy your travels with me on the lightrail. That means you mean enough to me that I don't leave you behind in exchange for a novel, because that would be so much easier for me to deal with. You're tough, stubborn and don't listen, but when things go well, I'm incredibly happy and thankful you're there with me. 


Sorry for the yogurt or tea stains on you. I eat breakfast on the go.


Love,


Your dutiful attending writer