Documentary Film English Subtitling * Translation & Transcreation of Documents
Working Fields: Social Sciences (including Politics, Arts, Music, Folklore & Mythology)

Tuesday 19 June 2012

Teddy Bear Teddy Bear Where Art Thou?

Toys... toys... toys... Everybody likes toys from simple stuffed and cuddly resemblances of mascots to plastic nightmares.
I used to be a "normal" child once, who seemed to enjoy cuddly teddies - not to be confused with shimmies - at night and on family trips, but also obsessed about puzzle and structural games. However, I seem to have lost my playful child properties at the age of 9, when I was introduced to war, like a smack on the face. I knew fear and lack of settlement at the age of 4, but the concepts and the reality of things were not clear until the big hit, also given the age factor.
I remember the day my 8 or 9 year-old teddy bear was murdered. This was one of the very first teddies I even snuggled up with at night and read stories to. It was battered with small patches missing. It also had a fantastic quality; it had a velcro patch on each hand (paw) and came with a colourful fuzzy ball that stuck to the velcro. I did lose the ball at some point and the velcro had lost most of its 'stick' qualities. However, I loved that teddy that I didn't mind him ageing. It only felt fitting that my teddy grow older, 'just like me', I thought.
I remember the horrifying journey we took to safety - at least that's what we thought at the time. We had finally made it to the 'borders' of the West Bank from Jordan, little we knew that the journey hadn't even started. Too close, yet too far. We had to go through all sorts of security checks. Now, when I reflect on this part of the journey, it looks like the process some 'lucky' Nazi victims had to go through, those who didn't end up in concentration camps - or at least, in our case, not straight away. The process took almost a whole day and the procedures varied from multiple identity checks, to stripping of, to being locked in a small room with many other people, to searching for our shoes and belongings amongst piles of items, to having items confiscated, to interrogations, to shoving and verbal abuse... We almost lost our family 'treasure' - as my mom calls it. Photos... reminders of a past reality and people that we miss, missed, or may never see again, of smiley faces and kids stuffing their faces with birthday cakes, of presents under a Christmas tree or a granny hug, of the sea and the desert, of camping trips and roller coaster rides... "These shall be confiscated" we were told by an Israeli soldier and that's when the other horrifying thing happened... My teddy was gutted in front of my wide opened eyes by an Israeli soldier with a blunt knife. I was 9, damn it, and that teddy was my best friend. That was my treasure and a symbol of my childhood. I felt like I was a year older with every stitch that popped off teddy's front. I felt that the invisible boundary that separated me as a child from a woman was abruptly and untimely vanished in a most brutal way...
I realised later that teddy had sacrificed himself and my childhood to save the family's treasure. The soldiers seemed to have felt 'sorry' or 'ashamed' - I could never be certain - that they let my mom, who was nearing collapse of exhaustion and panic, have the many boxes of photos back...

I never cried teddy, you know, even when I watched it being thrown in the bin head and guts first. The transformation in my state-of-mind was instant... I was a woman then... I was a responsible human being... A Palestinian with a couple of stories and a big baggage of traumas...

Losing Teddy was just the beginning...


Friday 15 June 2012

A Little Voice Speaks to Me and There's No Body There!

You know when you sometimes wake up with this overwhelming urge to sing and you hear voices already singing on beat, you start having lucid thoughts of potential insanity... Still, you go along with that urge as it makes you feel grand and somewhat strong and ready to face the ailments of this - apparently - tangible and true reality.

Bless you my brother - or sister - "from the ceiling to the solid oaken floor" and "bless you with a herd of vertically striped baby elephants bearing umbrellas with a deep violet hue"...


Monday 11 June 2012

Life is a Roller Coaster... At Least From Where I Stand

Argh... Things just keep on happening, or not happening, depending on how you're looking at it at the time of the event...
I wonder how people generally cope. I mean, a normal human being would react, would have a some sort of an inclination to shake, cry, shout, be illogical, be hysterical, become introverted, or just go in shock. Some would probably just ride it through awaiting the next ride. Either way, PTSD seems to be the end product.
It's like going on an actual roller coaster ride and getting all this adrenaline. When the ride is over, you've got two choices; either go on yet another ride, or move on until you find yourself on another roller coaster ride anyway. With the first option, you would keep generating a "satisfactory" amount of adrenaline that would keep you going with whatever emotion and expression you're encountering or experiencing at the time. However, if you step off, which is the second option, you would have to encounter the adrenaline "come down" before the next "high". This latter might be more terrifying than the first. You would have to face some dark demons which reside within you. They would start undermining your judgments, character and deeds. They would criticise your every move and would remind you with the past and may show you a future that you may not like. Then, you would have to fend them off, try and corner them as they tried to corner you. You would lash at them, and may sometimes agree with the points they are making. They might even form an alliance, join forces and go for a coup.
The more times this happens - and in the occasion of you being successful in fending off the nastiness, with whatever weapon you've reserved for these special occasions - the stronger you become, "like the skin on the drum (Spearhead)".
Regardless, this all remains a ride on the roller coater of life, brought to you by our sponsors;
  • Personal decisions, mostly flavoured with "obligation" and "lack of choices"
  • Mindless advertisements and news, topped with the most innovative techniques of mind control
  • National phobias, a fantastic resort where there is something for everyone
  • Oppression and prejudice, our promise to you remains solid
  • Suppressants, we shall take away your fears and past... Huzza for dreamless nights. 
I conclude this with a short animation from James Lee, a very talented animations maker (music by Hania Lee).





Watch Tarboy (my favourite so far!) and other animations by James Lee here



Note: Feel free to add more sponsors!


Sunday 3 June 2012

Geek Points... The Geek Shall Inherit The Earth... Or Is It "The Obsessive Compulsive"?

I had a lovely time last night with some friends, drinking and chatting... It is amazing how many topics you can cover in a short period of time, yet, at the same instance, manage to connect all those topics in a some sort of a loop, which gives you a sense of security, or is it achievement, or possibly just the satisfaction of being able to conclude the night with no loose ends!
At some point we were talking about 70s & 80s sci-fi films, following a chat on "reality check" modern advancements into the field of planetary travel for "tourists". It's becoming more apparent that our world is moving rapidly into "real" fiction! However, saying that, this requires a huge sums of money, sums that don't exist and shall never exist except on computer screens and bank statements. That's all what those sums are; numbers. They relate to no actual substance, no tangible real assets, not even gold. Well, the amount of gold accessible in the world at the moment does not reflect the "wealth" portrayed in those numbers, not to mention the other "numbers" which reflect the inflation in the various markets.
Anyway, back to sci-fi and that, one of us pointed out that everyone, absolutely everyone has "Geek Points".

Bearded Man: Everyone is obsessed about something. Some would go in depth into computers and IT, some into a specific genre of films or novels, and some others into collecting things, like stamps, coins, cardboard, stickers, cards, empty Pringles containers, and so on.

Collapsable-bike-er: Well, I suppose, this sort of thing is quite trendy in Metropolis!

Bearded Man: Ah... Geek Chic!

This leads me to thoughts on OCD and how much people totally and utterly stupidly - please excuse the expression, but it's bloody well true - misunderstand and undermine the severity of this disorder.
I agree with lots of people, out there, who are pissed off with how "trendy" the term OCD have become. If someone seems to show the slightest tendency to react to items not being in the "right" place or not conforming to a certain pattern, they go something like; "OMG, I'm so OCD" as if it is a fun fact about them. It's really disturbing how much those can connect to others with similar thoughts on the matter, as it is the subject of the day. If you've got OCD, then you are a wow or a trendy nurd. Well, ... NO! ... If you really have OCD, the disorder that is, you would be shaking or going into fits in a corner of the room because you have just witnessed a crime against pattern or an open door, or even a pubic hair in the bath tub.
It is a damn serious disorder that hits a portion of the population on varied degrees. It happens when your neurone signals go into overload with certain triggers and your brain just can't administer a simple "pull-out" mechanism, which enables one to let go.
Some would have created a new path for those signals so to be able to generate a varient reaction to fits or relapse. Some would just verbalise their findings - in some cases, mis-contempt - and just get on with their lives as if nothing happened. Some others would still have to change the circumstances of their findings so to be able to get on with their lives. It is basically like taming down the compulsive part of the equation and finding alternate means to express the obsessive part.
There is also the fact that lots of people could be classified or termed as compulsive and others as obsessive. Those would not have OCD as in, they would not have the combined neurological reaction to triggers, and would certainly not have a disorder, but more of an annoying - sometimes useful - character traits!

This takes me back to GEEKS. If you put both OCD and GEEK in the same baskit, you would trigger an explosion of stupid remarks from people who want to be seen as trendy. Being a Geek or having OCD is not necessarily fun or hilarious. These people cannot generally connect to those others who so want to be trendy. For once, those who are not real geeks - or don't admit to having real geek points - and those who are "OMG, I'm so OCD" actually only function as parasites that feed on what is "trendy" in social networks. Who bloody controls those?

Anyway, being a geek is really being obsessive about something or another. You would be so good at that thing you obsess about that you become a master, a wiz, a head full of info, but, you may also be a risk of turning into a social freak, a nurd, disconnected from society, especially if you are an IT guy!

I conclude this rant with, The Geek Shall Inherit The Earth... Not the Meek... My reasoning being;
1. All real geeks are really good at what they are geeky about
2. Collectively, they posses the know-how towards survival after a major earthly disaster
3. They have the capacity to destroy the world as we know it - which I am all in favour of
4. Although point 3 is valid, they would not choose to do so unless being driven by a real trigger, an ultimatum, or an attack on an idol or god-like figure (think Assange and you've got a real and very recent example to support point 4)

There you have it!

Saturday 2 June 2012