"The sea is flecked with bars of gray,
The dull dead wind is out of tune,
And like a withered leaf the moon
Is blown across the bay.

Etched clear upon the pallid sand
Lies the black boat: a sailor boy
Clambers aboard in careless joy
With laughing face and gleaming hand.

And overhead the curlews cry,
Where through the dusky upland grass
The young brown-throated reapers pass,
Like silhouettes against the sky."

While several bystanders were injured, and nearby windows shattered and walls collapsed, the only death appeared to be that of the driver of the car, identified later as Hamza Abu Mukharreb, 21, a member of Hamas's military wing."

It's been 2 months since I started riding horses. My original motivation was shame. I was riding lamely in Pyramid of Giza when a girl galloped past us in all her glory. I cursed under my breath and determined not to let that happen again.

That was then.

After several weekends of walking like pregnant women after each horse ride, I think I've passed that ultimate goal of getting no ill effect after each ride.

I've become a hard ass, so to speak.

But not as hard core as yet another girl that I met today, Dhalia. Her father owned the stable and I talked to her about horse competition and such. She told me about "endurance race" where you race the horse for 120 km in a day. She competed in one two years ago and that race required one year preparation. Now that is horse riding. She told me that if you ride long enough, you will fall. Falling off a horse is the gravity of horse riding. It's the law and it will happen. You just have to learn how to fall properly.

Well, I almost fell today. I rode a new horse, Carama. She's new and very sensitive and loved to gallopped. I lost control of her in one fast gallopp and we almost made a jump over a 3 feet fence before she turned sharply to the right at the corner just in time. I almost flew and became Superman.

Next week, I will tackle the underwater world in Alexandria. It's time to scare the fishes.

Ali did not come lightly to his decision to stay home. For years, he said, he has had no more important appointment than Fridays at Baghdad's Baratha mosque, a revered Shiite shrine said to have been visited in the 7th century by Imam Ali, a cousin and son-in-law of the prophet Muhammad.

‘Who will take care of us’?
But after suicide bombers struck at Baratha in April, killing at least 70 people at Friday prayers, Ali's wife confronted him. "I told her I would go, but she said: 'Who will take care of us if you get blown up? You don't have a salary or a pension,' " recalled Ali, 46, who runs a small shop that sells cigarettes and candy out of his home in the al-Salaam neighborhood of northwest Baghdad."

Love is a lottery. You must pay first and maybe you get something in return. They also call lottery a tax for stupid people.

Time is limited. More so, attention is even more limited. We have 24 hours fixed but you can only spend less than that amount of time to pay attention to anything

You have work, sleep, learning, exercise, meditate, etc..

Then you have some spare time to get to know people. A very limited amount of time.

So you choose and pick the people you want to get to know more. You do it for various reason, for romance, for the pursuit of common interest, for circumstances, etc.

On the other hand, you can have a perfectly fine and genial friendships, acquitances, etc relationship without knowing them well. We do it all the time.

You don't have to know somebody well in order to work with them, play  or even sleep with them. Some people are together for a long time without knowing each other.

So if you are in  a situation where people are spending their time and effort to get to know you, online or offline, realize that you are the few chosen one. You are the winner of his/her internal attention matrix, for variety of reasons.

There is always a reason.

On the other hand, just because you are part of this 'winning team', it doesn't mean that anyone close to you will be qualified too. The attention space is not the universe, it doesn't expand with time. If somebody new is in, your slice is cut and in some cases sent to the "winning team alumni club", the has been of "people I would care to know".

Yeah, you must care to know. 

The membership in this exclusive club is temporary and rarely you get the "card for life". But hey that's life and enjoy the benefits while it lasts.

Wow.

Incredible.

Mind boggling.

There's a music festival this weekend on the Citadel (it's free, even for furiner) and I went to see the Sufi Dancers. The festival itselfs contains many style of music (including fusion jazz) but the main event for me is the dance.

It's consisted of a bunch of old guys playing various ensembles of musical instruments and the dancer dude with his colorful and layered "skirt". He would spin and spin and continue spinning throughout the dance making circles with his "skirt". It was funny, inspiring and full of energy. It cannot be missed.

Swimming in the afternoon, sufi dances, muatam, and late night dinner at Didos. It's a perfect day. And I'm glad I spend it ...

June is ending and so far the feared high temperature and humidity of Cairo hasn't hit yet. Today is actually beautiful day, the sun was out early and warmed up the city pleasantly. Maybe my perception of the whether has been altered by the Luxor heat experience (48 celcius at 3 pm). Maybe beating a sickness symptom in just one day with a cheapo over the counter medicine at the office neighbourhood pharmacy also play a role in giving me a good mood this morning.

Maybe spring just arrived late.

The primary purpose of this conversation is not to convey any specific information. Its primary purpose is to say, "I am here and I know that you are here." (Slate - Herbert Stein)

The “child-martyrs” belonged to the so-called “Basij” movement created by the Ayatollah Khomeini. The Basij Mostazafan – the “mobilization of the oppressed” – were volunteers of all ages that embraced death with religious enthusiasm. They provided the model for the first Hezbollah suicide bombers in Lebanon. To this day, they remain a kind of SA of the Islamic revolution. Sometimes they serve as a “vice squad”, monitoring public morals; sometimes they rage against the opposition – as in 1999, when they were used to break the student movement. At all times, they celebrate the cult of self sacrifice."

Militant cleric Abu Bakar Bashir also called on Bush and Prime Minister John Howard to convert to Islam, saying it was "the only way to save their souls."" (msnbc)