Hail the Middle East.Â The lands of honey and venom, bullets and beans, oil and licorice.
Those lands whose brotherly inhabitants consider visitors as conquerors and whose own indigenous inhabitants as infidels.
Those lands whose brotherly inhabitants slaughter their humanitarian benefactors and who expect largesse from their families and nations.
Those lands whose brotherly inhabitants avenge an eye for a whole family and whose avenger is hailed for marrying his 9-year old to a MuslimÂ cadaver.
Those lands whose brotherly inhabitants treat their women as tools in a box to be hammered or drilled, and when overly generous to be plied.
Those lands whose brotherly inhabitants transport on donkeys and who terrorize Israel for their supersonic transport.
Those lands whose brotherly inhabitants demonize all peaceful religions and consider their violence peaceful.
Those lands whose brotherly inhabitants spill the blood of others for a cartoon and whose own blood spills endlessly for no reason.
Hail the Middle East.
Those lands whose leaders protect killers of women and children and whose title is Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques.
Those lands whose leaders boast wealth because of a geographic coincidence and whose political will is toÂ impregnateÂ their people with poverty.
Those lands whose leaders read no books and learn no history and whose names shine on buildings of universities at home and abroad.
Those lands whose leaders name every trophy they award after themselves to belittle itsÂ recipient.
Those lands whose leaders speak languages no civilization understands but whose wallet translates the words to their beggars.
Those lands whose leaders outlive the longevity of their own countries and whose age is a trajectory defying gravity.
Those lands whose leaders are brave when confronted with weakness and whose surroundings are engineered to silently laud their bravery.
Those lands whose leaders are cowards when confronted with resolve and whose surroundings are engineered to avoid resolutions.
Those lands whose leaders fight terror with their right hand and whose left hand are ignored to breed terrorism faster.
Those lands whose leaders roar a lifestyle imitating a Tarzan chest pound and whose people moan as they jump trees.
Those lands whose leaders are so violent, freedom freezes like a lizard under a sun and free men forget their call of duty.
Those lands whose leaders kneel before corruption like nuns kneel before their Maker and whose cronyism is oxygenated by theirÂ polygamy.
Hail the Middle East.
Those lands whose Supply is measured by bullets fired, not coins counted and whose Demand is measured with silence, not taxes.
Those lands whose GDP is estimated to be a function of number of chemical weapons and whose GNP is estimated to be a function of Violence Per Person.
Those lands whose brightest minds escaped long ago and whose people remaining are fixated on finding new ways to follow.
Those lands whose missiles outnumber the factories built and whose factories only assemble what others invented.
Those lands where extremes trumps each other in a blink of an eye and where moderation is a magic act with no magicians, no act, and no patrons.
Those lands whose contribution to civilization are dust-covered relics and whose brotherly inhabitants believe in recycling their uselessness.
Hail to the Middle East. Â The lands of stale honey and fresh venom, fired bullets and damp beans, oil monopolies and bitterÂ licorice.
Farid Ghadry -Â September 30, 2012