I personally find this very disturbing, yet creative. Most students are ambivalent about the whole thing.

For the past year, I performed repeated self-induced miscarriages. I created a group of fabricators from volunteers who submitted to periodic STD screenings and agreed to their complete and permanent anonymity. From the 9th to the 15th day of my menstrual cycle, the fabricators would provide me with sperm samples, which I used to privately self-inseminate. Using a needleless syringe, I would inject the sperm near my cervix within 30 minutes of its collection, so as to insure the possibility of fertilization. On the 28th day of my cycle, I would ingest an abortifacient, after which I would experience cramps and heavy bleeding.

To protect myself and others, only I know the number of fabricators who participated, the frequency and accuracy with which I inseminated and the specific abortifacient I used. Because of these measures of privacy, the piece exists only in its telling. This telling can take textual, visual, spatial, temporal and performative forms — copies of copies of which there is no original.

This piece — in its textual and sculptural forms — is meant to call into question the relationship between form and function as they converge on the body. The artwork exists as the verbal narrative you see above, as an installation that will take place in Green Hall, as a time-based performance, as a independent concept, as a myth and as a public discourse.

It creates an ambiguity that isolates the locus of ontology to an act of readership. An intentional ambiguity pervades both the act and the objects I produced in relation to it. The performance exists only as I chose to represent it. For me, the most poignant aspect of this representation — the part most meaningful in terms of its political agenda (and, incidentally, the aspect that has not been discussed thus far) — is the impossibility of accurately identifying the resulting blood. Because the miscarriages coincide with the expected date of menstruation (the 28th day of my cycle), it remains ambiguous whether the there was ever a fertilized ovum or not. The reality of the pregnancy, both for myself and for the audience, is a matter of reading.

This ambivalence makes obvious how the act of identification or naming — the act of ascribing a word to something physical — is at its heart an ideological act, an act that literally has the power to construct bodies. In a sense, the act of conception occurs when the viewer assigns the term “miscarriage” or “period” to that blood.

In some sense, neither term is exactly accurate or inaccurate; the ambiguity is not merely a matter of context, but is embodied in the physicality of the object. This central ambiguity defies a clear definition of the act. The reality of miscarriage is very much a linguistic and political reality, an act of reading constructed by an act of naming — an authorial act.

It is the intention of this piece to destabilize the locus of that authorial act, and in doing so, reclaim it from the heteronormative structures that seek to naturalize it.

As an intervention into our normative understanding of “the real” and its accompanying politics of convention, this performance piece has numerous conceptual goals. The first is to assert that often, normative understandings of biological function are a mythology imposed on form. It is this mythology that creates the sexist, racist, ableist, nationalist and homophobic perspective, distinguishing what body parts are “meant” to do from their physical capability. The myth that a certain set of functions are “natural” (while all the other potential functions are “unnatural”) undermines that sense of capability, confining lifestyle choices to the bounds of normatively defined narratives.

Just as it is a myth that women are “meant” to be feminine and men masculine, that penises and vaginas are “meant” for penetrative heterosexual sex (or that mouths, anuses, breasts, feet or leather, silicone, vinyl, rubber, or metal implements are not “meant” for sex at all), it is a myth that ovaries and a uterus are “meant” to birth a child.

When considering my own bodily form, I recognize its potential as extending beyond its ability to participate in a normative function. While my organs are capable of engaging with the narrative of reproduction — the time-based linkage of discrete events from conception to birth — the realm of capability extends beyond the bounds of that specific narrative chain. These organs can do other things, can have other purposes, and it is the prerogative of every individual to acknowledge and explore this wide realm of capability.

إلى ذلك، قال ماكين إنه “يؤيد أن تكون القدس عاصمة أبدية لإسرائيل”، بيد أنه أكد “التزامه بدعم العملية السلمية بين الفلسطينيين والإسرائيليين للوصول إلى تسوية

Now, back to Pokemon.

1) You feel like you have never left in the first place

2) All your friends suddenly start smoking. As a consequence, you will smell like shit whenever you hang out with them.

3) A falafel sandwich costs JD 1.75 ($2.5)

4) Taxi drivers claim that they haven’t had their meters adjusted to the new taarif and therefore demand an extra 1/4 JD

5) Deer 3′bar is the new Abdoun

6) Random Jordanians care about US elections more than Americans do

7) The building guard has a better cell phone than you do

8 ) You need to be checked for AIDs just because you come from the US of A

9) You are stopped by a cop and asked if you are Iraqi or Jordanian

10) A litre of gas costs $1!

…can’t you drive a car if it’s not registered in your name? Say if it’s your parents’ or spouse’s? I CAN’T DRIVE MY DAD’S CAR BECAUSE OF THIS STUPID NEW LAW!!! ARGH!

Former British Prime Minister Tony Blair will teach a seminar at Yale next year as a visiting fellow, the University announced Friday.

Blair — whose eldest son, Euan, is enrolled in a two-year master’s program in international relations at the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences — will also participate in various events around campus as part of his appointment as the Howland Distinguished Fellow for the 2008-09 academic year, the University said.

Blair finished his ten-year stint as prime minister in June, and later this year will launch a foundation aimed at fostering interfaith dialogue. Fitting with that, Blair’s course — to be organized by the School of Management and the Divinity School — will focus on issues of faith and globalization.

“The appointment of Mr. Blair provides a tremendous opportunity for our students and our community,” University President Richard Levin said in a statement Friday.

“As the world continues to become increasingly inter-dependent, it is essential that we explore how religious values can be channeled toward reconciliation rather than polarization,” Levin continued. “Mr. Blair has demonstrated outstanding leadership in these areas and is especially qualified to bring his perspective to bear. We are honored that he is planning to join the Yale community.”

The Howland Distinguished Fellowship, created in 1915, recognizes a “citizen of any country in recognition of some achievement of marked distinction in the field of literature or fine arts or the science of government.”

Former Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi once held the appointment, as did the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams and journalist Sir Alistair Cooke.

It was not immediately clear how the University lured Blair to the post, although it has had success in the past courting former foreign heads of state for teaching appointments. Former Mexican President Ernesto Zedillo GRD ’81, who served in that post from 1994 to 2000, now serves as the head of the Yale Center for the Study of Globalization.

Levin did pay a visit to the United Kingdom in late October; that trip, however, was for fundraising purposes, he told the News at the time. Never did he mention running into Blair — or any other former prime ministers — along the way.

Yale’s announcement, meanwhile, did not go into detail about whether undergraduates would have a chance to participate in Blair’s class. University Spokeswoman Helaine Klasky was not immediately available for comment.

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I am really ambivalent about Blair’s visit next year. For starters, his class on faith and globalization doesn’t sound that interesting to many people. Also, I personally don’t think he is the most qualified person to teach this class. What’s more interesting is that his son, Euan, was offered a $100,000 scholarship to attend Yale’s Graduate School of Arts and Sciences although his grades were much below average. I guess this is what you get when your famous.

It’s been around eight years since I left Mosul. I never visited again. I lost touch with all my friends, teachers and everything, and it never really occurred to me that I might hear back from anyone ever again. I guess I was wrong. After starting a book drive to help fund the University of Mosul’s Library, it happened that my contact person is related to one of my best friends back then and knows many other acquaintances. We are still talking and discovering we know fulan and fulan person. It’s simply amazing. I’m just wishing for the day where I can actually go back and see everyone again.

1. “So we are waking up tomorrow at 7 am to watch the final match, OK?”

2. “WE WON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

3. “That Zaidan kid is the most conceited boy ever”

4. “Dinner with Rashid Khalidi on Feb 29th”

5. “Not RJ again!!”

6. “SHAWERMA REEM IN 26 DAYS”

7. “Prions are very evil”

8. “I am germophobic; even from myself, I don’t drink from the same spot twice”

9. “Lightning DOES strike twice.”

10. “Why am I always the only white person in a totally brown room??”

11. “Ski trip in Vermont in 2 weeks!”

12. “Menopausal women don’t make estrogen, because there are no follicles, and therefore, no aromatase is made to turn the ketone to an alcohol”

12. “I miss fuddruckers”

13. “I reeaaaaalllly hope I get the internship in Brussels”

14. “Istanbul with the coolest people ever May 17-27 2008″

15. “Finally there is one decent Jordanian movie; Captain Abu Raed”

16. “College food sucks. A lot”

17. “When is that rambling hal going to put pics of new haven in her picture game? People have to see how gorgeous Yale is!”

18. “New Haven sucks. and forever will.”

19. “It’s Sex Week at Yale! The first lecture is on sex and chocolate!”

20. “More than words is the best song EVER!”

21. “Did you say Spice Girls performing in NYC? I thought those were extinct!”

…when it’s 5:09 pm and the sun is still up. Seriously. After living in Edinburgh for three weeks, where the sun rises at 9 and goes down by 4, this is PARADISE.

On another note, it’s the third week of school and I have TONS of reading. Not really looking forward to it. Why aren’t our brains like computers where we can put the book in and just have it stored?

I’m heading back to NYC in a couple of hours. For once, I really wish my flight will be delayed for a lengthy period. I could really use a few more days of holiday after the most intense semester till now.

My mom always used to tell me that we would go back someday. Someday. She never went on to more than that. Not being in that place was definitely not an easy task for a seven year old. My dad told me before we left, “In Iraq, you won’t be enjoying all the privileges you are currently enjoying.” The content of his warning belied the challenges I would soon encounter, and I was simply too young to know otherwise.

My first transition was to get over my childhood addiction: Macaroni and Cheese. I used to cry and cry begging for those delicious cheese-covered pasta pieces. The solution to the problem came out a bit simpler than I would have expected: Macaroni and red soup. Being my grandma’s favorite, the busy professor she was, she put the effort to make me a delicious dish of macaroni and soup. It was heavenly. For years, my mom tried to make it for me, but I never actually liked it. When I was sad, mad or sometimes even just hungry, I would ask grandma to make me her best dish.

My second transition was to start school. Arabic School. Although I was seven, I was able to realize that my new school was a “tad” bit crappier than my school in the US. However, that was the least of my problems; I had a new language to learn. I can vividly remember jumping on my bed crying while my mom was trying to soothe me and get me to wear the horrendous blue and white uniform for school. All I wanted is to go back. Go back to where we made delicious deserts in class and go play in our awesome playground. But alas.

Another important skill I had to learn was to “extend” to my extended family. For the past seven years, I had lived with my parents and my two younger siblings. Adding another 9 families to my life was overwhelming to say the least, especially when you are expected to perform well and behave. It didn’t turn out quite well. I broke the sink of my grandpa’s bathroom a month after I got there; I fought with most of my cousins, and gave the bad boy impression to almost everyone. It was quite embarrassing, especially for my parents, since I was “mraba terbayeh amreekiya” [American raised.]

Yet, my experience was not all negative. Iraqi TV, my only source of entertainment, was extremely crappy and full of Saddam being praised, boasted only two channels. I recently realized that it’s not a bad thing over all. I spent less time watching cartoons like I did back in America (you got to blame Nickelodeon for that) and more time exploring the strange new world of Family traditions, Arabic and Islamic culture and the costumes and rituals that I have never seen before. Moreover, I discovered it was possible to live without certain items I once considered indispensable to my happiness.

Twelve and a half years later, I am back. I am on the shuttle that is taking me to Fort Collins, Colorado as I write this. I’m excited and scared at the same time. I never expected this. It just happened. I guess mom wasn’t wrong after all.

This was written on Nov 18, 2007