The Majesty of Death ...

It may come to you the obsession with the essence of the present moment as if we leave tomorrow to the whims of fate, and the violent questions flood our emotions without logical answers in shape and substance, and anxiety expands its circles. This anxiety has become part of the daily life of those caught between the decisions of the lords and the waiting of the subjects, and death has become the glaring truth that compels everyone to deal with absence. The circles revolve in an attempt to find answers to the question about the essence of tomorrow based on today's circumstances. Perhaps the current situation coexists with anxiety and death, raising questions and waiting for answers, with anticipation dominating the situation regarding what the lords' decision will be, and the waiting has prolonged. We are in a long wait, a wait to organize the house and to see who will ascend the speaking platform, who will ring the bell, who will shout, who will contend with arguments, and who will choose silence and stillness. There are those in the corners who will practice the state of submissiveness and accept kneeling. Among the ranks, there may be someone who advances and speaks the forbidden words under the laws of speech and the grammar systems. The alphabet has been lost in the maze, becoming disjointed and unable to express today's realities. Everyone is trying to escape from the truth of the question, and death is the truth that compels us to rearrange and take control amidst chaos for whoever decides to install themselves forcibly, or willingly, or by choice as the new lord, the potential caliph, the one who sees himself as the prince and the emperor, who hastens the act of death and absence. For death has its game of suspense and prolonging the wait for the lords and princes, which may have wisdom in maturing the commoners in preparation for the throne to come on the coronation platform...

There are many prohibitions on the list of eloquent silence. This deafening silence may be a stance of protest against all the words and the noise of waiting. It is forbidden to exercise the right to think about the essence of the pivotal moment amid absence. Here, all forms of superstition and sorcery must be practiced, and we must enter the realms of the future with other tools we do not know how to use. The gap is widening, and chance is the mistress of the present moment in everything related to the collective self. Everyone is still sitting there at the edges of history, trying to pounce on the prey of death if it comes unexpectedly. Death may be for the idea, for the framework, for the lever of action and actions. The fading of sensitivity and awareness of the national issue and its ramifications is a form of slow death. Leaving the platform of dreams and revolution is the real death of a people yearning for freedom and self-determination. The absence of protest and resistance, and its suppression, is part of the repeated act of death. Yielding and kneeling, submitting in the presence of the words of the emperor, and accepting the reality is the most beautiful image of death. Death in the East acquires other connotations and different meanings when it approaches those in authority among us...

In the troubled East, they have to obey and be commanded... He is the ruler by his decree, and his order might be the implementation of other orders coming to him from across the seas. You have the speech and the talk, and you have the power, and we are but subjects. Even if in the last gasp. In the troubled East, the one seated on the throne of storytelling may say what he wishes in the presence of abundant speech. The lord of the situation imposes decisions with no relation to the sacred itself, and the Iliad is sacred there, and the protocols of the wise of Zion are sacred on the other side of the wall. Sacrality has nothing to do with the first qibla, the ancient house, or the calvary.

In the presence of the awaited death, delayed until further notice, the vapors and sorcery and summoning aid from other worlds can be seen... and the one seated in the middle of the assembly, the sheikh of the path, begins with the chants through which the protocols of will be laid for the one who will ascend the coronation platform in the face of the great death of the great. So it was, and so it shall be.

And here, death screams to those who wait... I will bequeath you the glory of the emperor to graze as you please, and I will make you an imam over them, for the hour has come for you to take over their affairs, and they are your subjects and your maidens. Do as you will with them or with her, no difference, and I will proclaim you the prince of the believers over them, and you may be a king on the throne of their skulls, and a master over their slaves. Spartacus will not appear again. The equation is simple... with a little hunger and starvation, poverty, and killing, your rule will prevail, and you must have executioners working at your right hand, and spies watching over their night and hunger, and brutes brought forth to assist you. And if they smile, you must know who is smiling and the secret of this smile. And if another weeps, or is angry, or looks sullen, there must be an explanation. And if they kiss their women in broad daylight, know that there is a problem in the state of the subjects. And if one of them ascends the speaking platform and recites poetry in the presence of the night, pay attention to the speech from the beginning, for it may carry other implications, and I mean the back alleys where they may gather. And practice sabotage for their delight, and if they are sitting on the roadside, work to disperse their gathering, and beware of their outlaws for you do not know when their anger will erupt. Work to destroy their joy and their moments of humanity. Always make them feel inferior, and force them to kiss the hand extended for gifts, for you are the emperor, and the emperor is the giver, the donor, the able. They have no right except what you generously choose to give them at your convenience, and beware of weakness and letting your heart soften for their little ones, for these will grow into men under your rule. And if you want to speak and deliver a speech to them, be careful to always be the highest, the most handsome, the noblest, and speak to them with the superiority of the emperor and the greatness of your self.

Oh revered emperor, teach them to bow, and force them to perform this bowing, so it becomes part of their protocols when the meeting with you becomes possible. Make sure to renew punishment and reward, relying on the thick stick and the carrot that they may not receive. Do not create heroes from them, and beware of planting symbols among them. Learn from history well, and do not create them a new Karbala to pilgrimage to, and destroy all their temples and desecrate their sacred beliefs. Install yourself as a guardian of the Almighty, and whatever you say or do is derived from the legitimacy of God, and bring close to your authority preachers who glorify you with your words and deeds.

Always create in confrontation with the likes of al-Hussein, Yazid, and Muawiya. Make the incident of sedition a guiding light and an indication of your rule and your wise management style, and emphasize the differences in sects and the multiplicity of interpretations so that your interpretation prevails, and let the crescent always clash with the cross. The policy of excommunication is one of your most potent weapons and your devastation. Disappoint the fairest women with the appearance of the coming knights on the backs of steeds, and destroy their dreams with the virility of men.

And beware of bringing Sisyphus back to the scene again, for he made—through his boulder—an example of challenging the impossible, and the legend of the myth entices slaves, and they love to the rhythms of it.

Show them the extent of your power and the capabilities of your oppression, and know that your power derives from their weakness, your knowledge from their ignorance, and your day is splendid in the shadow of their dark night, and your spring through their autumn. Therefore, do not allow them a flourishing spring. Oh emperor of the night, do not heed the calls you may hear someday about the necessity of making way for freedoms, and for what is called democracy, for you are the source of all authorities, and there is no authority except your authority, and no throne except your throne. Beware of their meddling with a constitution that could betray you and pull the rug from under your feet.

Install yourself as a pharaoh deified with the sword, and through executioners who work to remind others of your name and deeds, regardless of their nature. Practice vice openly, and do not care for those who dip their pens in black ink, for your people do not read, and if they read, they forget, and if they do not forget, they fear. These commoners are searching for al-Lat and al-Uzza, and for a new Hubal to reside in the ancient house, prostrating to it in submission.

Make of yourself the emperor of the moment, and seize that historical moment. Ride any wave that the opposing wind may surprise you with, and if it comes from the West, be a foreign, non-Arab westerner, even if it contradicts the customs and traditions of your ancestors. Always look at your throne and maintain it; if your alliance with the devil is necessary, then do as you are commanded in that moment. And beware of antagonizing the emperors of the White House; implement the policies of Judah even if secretly, for they, oh emperor, will protect your den, even if it is made of wood. Do not reveal your anger and wrath in front of the lords of the world, for you always need the lords of the rampant business community. Lavish gifts on these lords even at the expense of your subjects. Make deals with them, and affix your signature to all their documents without scrutinizing the details of the agreements, for you are the emperor here and the faithful guardian of their interests. Know that your throne will not endure if the lords of Rome and the emperors of Uncle Sam become enraged.

Oh lord of lords... place the small in the place of the great, the ignorant in the place of the knowledgeable, and the follower in leadership, and then woe to a nation that has nothing with the stingy and whose swords are in the hands of the cowards and the lowly rulers.

And if they gather in the squares, and begin to multiply, be quick to absorb them, and try to win their sympathy with your glory and your history. And if they cry out against you and dare to challenge your night and your palace, know then that you must depart. So seek early for your salvation, and do not rely on friends or supporters. Do not search for the reasons for your defeat and the subversion of your throne, for everything you have said is a cause for the actual demise of your night. There can be no emperor without a palace and oppression. Do not strive too hard; everyone will abandon you at that moment, and the gathering will scatter around you. The final blow may come to you, painting the scene of your end from where you least expect it. Then, oh emperor whose term is coming to an end, gather the remnants of your throne and flee under the cover of night searching for a hiding hole, and prepare to sound the drums for the slaves have gained freedom wrested from between your fangs, and there must be a predation on your history and that of your ancestors. At that point, be silent and enter into a deep slumber of silence...