Soapbox for the "Devil"

The hawks care not for the people.

That is the thought that has been tugging away at my mind for some time now, which made watching Turtles Can Fly an interesting experience. It is a 2004 film jointly made by Iraq and Iran filmmakers about the often overlooked effects of the war has over the average citizen's life, namely children. Their lives are grim, and the daily duties of clearing out landmines and trying to make sense of the US news for their elders showcase the unique and ugly circumstances that surround them. It is a hard lesson to forget when one of the main boys that viewers follow throughout the tale of children trying to survive resistence fire and bomb raids is missing both his arms.

Above anything else, this film is not anti-American, nor is it anti-Saddam. Politics are not the focus of discussion for once. The politicians, the leaders, the military, and the media that masturbates over sound biting all of the above have already been heard and need not apply for further camera time. It is time that we see how the lives of the Iraqi people are like before, during, and after the second Gulf War. With an opening scene of a girl jumping to her death just days before the US unofficially declares war on Saddam, the film makers successfully wipe out any haughty remarks that this is a film meant only to point out the problems with American occupation. The situation for these people are dire, and, to make it even more unnerving, children are born and raised where internal violence is matched with foreign, aerial chaos. If there is one thing to take from this film, it is that it is the citizens---the people who are more worried over daily and domestic demands---who always foot the horrid bill when war is declared. It is only when those who spit out their warring intentions, sell their propaganda to a salivating pack of slumbering watchdogs, and spill the blood have honestly factored in the suffering of their countrymen can truly wage a worthy war. Soap boxes come cheap (a free gift given at the ribbon cutting ceremony of every new office), but the depictions within this film come at a dear cost.

Watching Turtles Can Fly reminded me of a recent Patti Smith song, so I will end this entry with "Radio Baghdad":


Suffer not Your neighbor's affliction
Suffer not Your neighbor's paralysis
But extend your hand Extend your hand
Lest you vanish in the city And be but a trace
Just a vanished ghost And your legacy
All the things you knew Science, mathematics, thought
Severely weakened Like irrigation systems
In the tired veins forming From the Tigris and Euphrates
In the realm of peace All the world revolved All the world revolved
Around a perfect circle
City of Baghdad City of scholars
Empirical humble Center of the world
City in ashes City of Baghdad
City of Baghdad Abrasive aloof

Oh, in Mesopotamia Aloofness ran deep
Deep in the veins of the great rivers
That form the base Of Eden
And the tree The tree of knowledge
Held up its arms To the sky
All the branches of knowledge All the branches of knowledge
Cradling Cradling
Civilization In the realm of peace
All the world revolved Around a perfect circle
Oh Baghdad Center of the world
City of ashes With its great mosques
Erupting from the mouth of god Rising from the ashes like
a speckled bird Splayed against the mosaic sky
Oh, clouds around We created the zero
But we mean nothing to you You would believe
That we are just some mystical tale We are just a swollen belly
That gave birth to Sinbad, Scheherazade We gave birth
Oh, oh, to the zero The perfect number
We invented the zero And we mean nothing to you
Our children run through the streets
And you sent your flames Your shooting stars
Shock and awe Shock and awe
Like some, some Imagined warrior production
Twenty-first century No chivalry involved
No Bushido

Oh, the code of the West Long gone
Never been Where does it lie?
You came, you came Through the west
Annihilated a people And you come to us
But we are older than you You come you wanna
You wanna come and rob the cradle
Of civilization And you read yet you read
You read Genesis You read of the tree
You read of the tree Beget by god
That raised its branches into the sky Every branch of knowledge
Of the cradle of civilization

Of the banks of the Tigris and the Euphrates
Oh, in Mesopotamia Aloofness ran deep
The face of Eve turning What sky did she see
What garden beneath her feet The one you drill
You drill Pulling the blood of the earth
Little droplets of oil for bracelets Little jewels
Sapphires You make bracelets
Round your own world We are weeping tears
Rubies We offer them to you
We are just Your Arabian nightmare
We invented the zero But we mean nothing to you
Your Arabian nightmare

City of stars City of scholarship
Science City of ideas
City of light City
City of ashes That the great Caliph
Walked through His naked feet formed a circle
And they built a city A perfect city of Baghdad
In the realm of peace And all the world revolved
And they invented And they mean nothing to you
Nothing to you Nothing
Go to sleep Go to sleep my child
Go to sleep And I'll sing you a lullaby
A lullaby for our city A lullaby of Baghdad
Go to sleep Sleep my child
Sleep Sleep...
Run Run...

You sent your lights Your bombs
You sent them down on our city Shock and awe
Like some crazy t.v. show

They're robbing the cradle of civilization
They're robbing the cradle of civilization
They're robbing the cradle of civilization

Suffer not The paralysis of your neighbor
Suffer not But extend your hand