Photos: Easter Weekend

In the absence of relevant content, here are some photos from this past weekend. I think I tried to go for some artistic effects that I've seen done really well on Flickr, but in the absence of a tripod, and working with Shan's digital camera that ran out of batteries every ten minutes, the results aren't great.

Here are a few of them, anyway.

Defining Diversity

A few weeks ago, I was invited to a technology conference in the famous windy city of Chicago. Nearly 900 people attended, mostly North Americans but not exclusively, brought together by the prospect of stumbling upon that next great idea, and to hear from experts what the future may hold.

In the opening address, the host paid respect to the diversity of the crowd. And looking around, there certainly was a lot of variety; many colours and shapes, from the East and the West, and I certainly wasn't the only Muslim around. Browsing the guest list as I reached the hotel, I found at least a couple dozen Muslim names, mostly South Asians but a healthy dose of Arabs as well. And in that crowd of people, at the heart of corporate America, I actually felt like I fit in.

That feeling didn't last long. Surveying the audience, I noticed the uniformity of the participants. Yes, there were black people and Hispanics and Indians and Chinese people, but somehow they all looked the same. They all sounded the same, and they all dressed the same. There was an almost robotic feel to the crowd. In spite of the multitude of traditions and customs that their ethnicities may have been known for, in this forum, everyone followed a single custom, portrayed a single personality. Even as I first reached O'Hare Airport prior to the conference, I was able to easily identify others who were attending the same event simply by their appearance and gait.

At the end of each day, the inevitable alcohol would come out, and I would disappear off to explore downtown Chicago. I was saddened to see that a number of those participants with Muslim names gracing their nametags would be drinking along with everyone else, likely out of a desire to fit in with that crowd and make key connections with industry leaders. I was often told about how important it is to network with the senior people in the industry, and networking in corporate America invariably means sharing drinks with a person. In spite of all the ethnic diversity, social interaction was limited to the practice of only the corporate West. There would be no sipping tea with these managers, and no Tim Hortons to discuss all the issues of the day; alcohol was the fuel that built relationships in this world, and I had no interest in taking part.

As I wandered through Millenium Park (pictured above), I kept thinking that the diversity that was being applauded earlier was entirely superficial. Ethnic diversity means little if one loses all the uniqueness of that ethnicity, and religious diversity means nothing if there is no accommodation for religious difference. Of course, one can't please everybody, and what is a restriction for one may be an obligation for another. So where does that leave those who won't trade their values for the sake of fitting in? It usually leaves them on the outside looking in, and that will always be their personal challenge to overcome.

I've had the honour of working with a number of outstanding people who have seen diversity beyond the superficial recognition of its existence. I've been a part of some fantastic teams that embraced diversity not just in words, but in practice - and that definitely strengthened our effectiveness. But those appear to be exceptions, and on a large scale, whatever diversity exists in the corporate world still remains shallow.

It remains a challenge, and perhaps it should remain a challenge. Perhaps our strength lies in our ability to overcome societal norms. After all, few have ever achieved anything by simply following the course. Let the current flow as it may, we must hold our place.

Update 4.5.2007: More pictures here.

ill relevant opinions

It's been over a month since I posted here. In my defense, daylight savings time hit several weeks earlier this year, so the month of March was an hour shorter than usual.

During this hiatus, I thought to myself, "what am I missing?" And now I know. There was a certain edge that was missing. A rage, if you will. The sort of rage that is best expressed through convoluted rap lyrics. So here goes; as of today, Irrelevant Opinions has gone ghetto, and none o'ya can say nothin' to make me change my mind, dawg. An' from now on, ya can call me MC Slam.

yo .. one two .. check one two

yo, we'z back and we gots a new attitude
so y'allz best sit back, expressin' your gratitude
for deze opinionz, clever and astute
if you don't like 'em, yer gonna get da boot
cuz deze rhymez keep comin' an' flowin'
a real sight to see when mc slam gets goin'
i keep rhymin', ain't no sign of slowin'
flyin' rhymez like some kinda boeing
yeah, we'll rap, through thick an' thin
so grab a coffee, and roll up da rim to win
an' if you loze, and ya ain't feelin' cheery
express your melancholy at target theory
dats da place to go when yer feelin' weary
breakin' down like my chevy cavaliery
so listen to me an' my cheezy ebonics
i ain't hooked on dope, yo, i be hooked on phonics
so keep readin', you an' yer minionz
keep readin' deze irrelevant opinionz
y'allz be thinkin' dis blog waz dead
but deze new rhymez give me mad street cred
no more bloggin' 'bout bugz in my cereal
now i'm goin' wit' da gangsta material
no more expressin' my irrelevant viewz
an' droppin' random links to cbc newz
now i be bloggin' 'bout drugz an' booze
while i pump my funky basketball shoez
if ya don't like it, don't try to sway
me away from my amazin' new bloggin' way
ya better not be hatin', ya better not provoke
ya better understand dis be an april foolz day joke
so y'allz best follow yer noze an' wiggle yer toez
cuz everyone knowz da rhymez we compoze

aight man, let's get outta here
w0rd to your brother

Update 4.1.2007: Special thanks to Google, for their new free broadband service which allowed me to post this.

Maryam

Please pray for my 16-month old niece, Maryam. She remains in the hospital over a week after sustaining an injury to the head, and is in poor condition. The injury is far more serious than anyone initially suspected.

She is the daughter of my youngest brother, Hafiz Asrar. He and his wife have been undergoing considerable strain and anxiety, as one might expect; thankfully, the community has offered tremendous support, with friends and family coming from all over. There are additional subplots to all this causing additional distress to our entire family, but the health of the child remains the deepest concern.

Please remember all of us in your prayers, that Allah grants shifa to Maryam and lets her lead a normal life, and that Allah grants comfort and peace of mind to her parents and my parents, and that this ordeal comes to a quick and happy ending.

Update 2.28.2007: Alhamdolillah, she's out of the hospital now, though far from 100%. I want to thank everyone who visited, offered advice, or supported us with their thoughts and prayers; you all know who you are.

Unlikely Tranquility

Those who know me personally may know that it has been a rather difficult time for my family over the last few days. Sitting in my temporary apartment after I spent a good twenty minutes venting my frustration over the phone to a close friend, I felt rather helpless, over 3000km from home. I didn't know what to do, and my heart was restless.

At that moment, I received a message on MSN. It was from a friend of mine who typically sends me links to Family Guy clips or dumb commercials, the same guy who prank called me on a couple of occasions. His MSN picture was one of Calvin wearing a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey, urinating on a Montreal Canadiens logo, which is offensive to me in so many ways. I wasn't in the mood to laugh, particularly when I saw he was sending me just another YouTube link.

This was the link he sent me, the recitation of the section of Surah Naml that opens the 21st juz, recorded from the recent RIS conference.

And SubhanAllah, those verses were exactly what I needed to hear at that time. He didn't know anything about the family situation, or my personal condition. He also didn't know that those verses are among my favourites in the entire Quran, that they were the same verses I've often read during the handful of Islamic events wherein I've been asked to do the opening recitation. It came from the unlikeliest of sources, but it put my heart at ease. I was reminded of the verse of Quran wherein it is stated that "verily, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find satisfaction." (13:28)

Alhamdolillah for my friends, who never fail to come through for me when I need them.

Law scholarship named after Maher Arar | CBC News

Law scholarship named after Maher Arar | CBC News

University of Ottawa has a special place in my heart, being my alma mater and home for many years. This new scholarship is a wonderful token of appreciation on the part of the university.

Last year, Arar was the keynote speaker at the Graduation Dinner I had the honour of emceeing. His advice to the graduates was simple - never underestimate your own worth, and don't back down if others try to compromise or undermine your worth.

"The scholarship was initiated by Tyseer Aboulnasr, an electrical engineering professor at the university and a member of the Canadian Muslim Network, Leslie added."

On a somewhat related note, Dr. Aboulnasr was the dean of the Faculty of Engineering when I started at the university. It was quite a pleasant surprise for me, to see a Muslim woman in hijab in such a respected position. Her first address to the new students included these memorable words:

"Now, I know a lot of you are coming from out of town, and you believe university is all about freedom, and that Engineering is all about drinking and partying. But there are lots of extremely successful Engineers who have never had a single drop of alcohol in their lives, including myself!"

That statement made me feel a little more comfortable with the fate that brought me to Ottawa against my own hopes and desires. As the years progressed, I realized why I ended up there; I truly believe it was one of the best things that happened to me. We all have our own plans, but Allah has His plans. And surely, He is the best of planners.

Allegorical Absurdity: Goldilocks

Once upon a time, a young girl named Goldilocks was prancing through the woods during a brisk fall day. Of course, she wasn't the brightest of little girls. She should have known better than to wander the woods alone, and it certainly wasn't a good idea to embark on this journey with no provisions. Lost, cold, and hungry, Goldilocks wasn't sure if she'd make it through the night. So when she stumbled upon an isolated house in the forest, her first instinct was to knock on the door and hope the owners would invite her in for dinner.

So she knocked and knocked, and yet no one would answer the door. But when she gripped the large wooden doorknob herself, she noticed that the door wasn't locked. So the little girl named Goldilocks took the liberty of inviting herself in.

The house was much bigger than she expected. Inside, she saw a beautifully decorated dinner table stretching far into the main hall, with a warm fire burning in the fireplace. The finest china, expensive silverware, and ornate napkins were neatly laid out in front of each of the dozens of chairs surrounding the table. And at every seat, there was a hearty bowl of porridge prepared for the eventual guests. What a feast the owners had prepared! What great fortune that the tired and hungry Goldilocks stumbled upon this house in the middle of the forest!

Goldilocks was hungry. There was no one home. So, without hesitation, she tasted the porridge from the first bowl.

"This porridge is too hot!" she exclaimed.

So, she tasted the porridge from the second bowl.

"This porridge is too cold," she said.

So, she tasted the third bowl of porridge.

"Ahhh, this porridge is just right," she said happily. "But perhaps just a bit too salty."

So, she glanced at the fourth bowl of porridge.

"This porridge is too dark!"

Fortunately, there was a fifth bowl. She took one hefty spoonful to her mouth.

"But this porridge is too light!"

And the sixth bowl? "This porridge is just too thick."

And the seventh was too thin.

The eighth? "Oatmeal, barley... I should really watch my carbs."

She tasted from the ninth bowl of porridge, but it tasted a bit old. The tenth bowl seemed undercooked.

And this went on. And on. And on.

* * *

The three bears had returned home. Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and little Baby Bear. Not shortly afterwards. Not the same night. Not the next day. It was nearly a week later that the bears finally returned, after a disaster relief effort in a neighbouring forest kept them busy. They were, after all, very noble bears, always willing to help a soul in need.

And there she was, she of the golden locks, lying faint in the hall. Malnourished. Thin. Her face laying in a small puddle of her own drool. Her golden locks were dirty and wet. Papa bear looked upon her with shock.

"A little girl!", exclaimed Papa Bear.

"Is she alright? Is she breathing?", Mama Bear cried, as she ran to the sick child. She was still breathing, but she had clearly lost consciousness. Mama Bear brought some water, and did her best to wake up the fallen Goldilocks by giving her small sips.

"But what about all the porridge we left out for any visitors?" the baby bear lamented, as he bounced up to his little chair. "Someone's been eating my porridge, but she only ate a bite!"

With this, Goldilocks began to regain consciousness. Just a little, but she managed to squeak out two words. "Too ... salty .. " With that, she collapsed again into the arms of Mama Bear.

Papa Bear looked at Mama Bear, who in turn was affectionately looking upon the poor, hungry child. Papa Bear felt little sympathy, though. "Some people," he growled, "are just too picky."

Two Triumphs, One Failure

I've been much busier than expected over the last few weeks, thus the relative inactivity here. Thought I'd share some thoughts on some recent news stories.

* * *

Last week, Prime Minister Stephen Harper formally apologized to Maher Arar, who was also awarded a compensation package of over $10 million dollars. This is a monumental triumph not just for Arar and his family, but for all the embattled masses who feel things are hopeless. There are a number of lower profile cases which are equally as disturbing as that of Arar; insha-Allah, all the others who are suffering the same injustices will have their voices heard.

The Bush administration, on the other hand, has demonstrated their hypocrisy once again in this affair. The US refuses to take Arar off the no-fly list, in spite of the extensive inquiry and process Canada has taken to clear his name. They say it is rather "presumptuous" for Canada to dictate who should and who should not be allowed in their country. This is just ridiculous; the only reason he was detained in the first place was because Canada provided the inaccurate information - this was proven in the inquiry. Now, after years of thorough investigation, Canada is basically saying "we were wrong", so is it not presumptuous of the United States to question Canada when they admit to their mistake? Was it not presumptuous to deport a Canadian citizen to Syria to be tortured? They say they have "their own information" that justifies their decision, but this is almost certainly their way of saying "we don't admit to our mistakes."

Clearly, they are simply afraid of a similar legal battle that they will likely lose. They're also afraid that if they were to admit error in the Arar affair, that would open a whole other can of worms. Arar is likely just one of many innocent individuals who have been made to suffer by the current administration. If these individuals were to take the stand Maher Arar did, the entire administration could be exposed as the criminals they are.

Articles:
Ottawa reaches $10M settlement with Arar | CBC News

Wilkins slams Day for questioning U.S. on Arar | CBC News

* * *


In other news, Saku Koivu, the Finnish heart and soul of the Montreal Canadiens, has been cleared of his cancer. Koivu has easily been my favourite hockey player for many years, not because he is talented at the game, but because he's an incredibly courageous person both on and off the ice. He doesn't put up the points like many of the other stars of the league, but his value goes far beyond the goals and assists.

It was September 11th, 2001, early in the morning, that I first heard the news. I was at the Montreal airport after a flight in from Moscow. I was delayed at the airport considerably after an extensive search was done on all my belongings and I was questioned at length about my journey. A lot of other things happened that day as well, but one thing I recall from my time at the airport was being told that Saku Koivu had cancer. At only the tender age of 26, the life of the young man was on the line.

He fought the disease as he's fought all the other trials in his life - with courage, persistence, and incredible patience. And any Habs fan will remember the day well, just before the end of the season, when he made his triumphant return to the ice in a 4-3 Montreal win over the Senators. The win would propel the Canadiens into the playoffs for the first time in four years, where Koivu (with the help of Doug Gilmour) would lead the team to a thrilling six game victory over the #1-ranked Boston Bruins.

Articles:
De très bonnes nouvelles pour Koivu | RDS

Jack Todd's Top Ten Heroes: #4, Saku Koivu | Montreal Gazette

Top 30 Sports Moments of the last 10 years: #1, Saku Koivu | RDS

Some older articles that I enjoyed:
C is For... | ESPN

Light shines bright on Koivu, and his prospects for life | ESPN

And a memorable video:
Saku Koivu's Return from Cancer | YouTube

* * *

And on another completely unrelated topic, Windows Vista was finally released. As a technology consultant, part of my job is to stay on top of all the latest developments in software. As an annoying pedant, part of my job is to notice typos and spelling mistakes (while, admittedly, making my own). Here, in a Vista demo video from microsoft.com, I was able to do both:


Looks like someone forgot to run spellcheck.

Simple mischief?

Vandals ransack Muslim school in Montreal | CBC News

59% of Quebecers say they're racist: poll | CBC News

Last night, a Muslim school in Montreal, École des Jeunes Musulmans Canadiens (JMC), was attacked. Twenty windows of the building were smashed, while the windows of the bus were shattered and garbage dumped in the aisle. My 6-year old nephew is a student at the school.

Montreal police said it is too soon to tell if the vandalism can be considered a hate crime.

"We're treating this as a simple mischief right now," Const. Laurent Gingras told CBC News on Tuesday.

This occurred a day after the results of a poll were released revealing that nearly three out of every five Quebecers consider themselves at least mildly racist. They won't call it a hate crime, because they only do that when Muslims are the suspects and not the victims.

[The poll] found 36 per cent of Quebecers have a bad opinion of Jewish people, while 27 per cent have a poor opinion of blacks. Fifty per cent have a bad opinion of Muslims.

These numbers don't surprise me, though I grew up and lived most of my life in Quebec. I'm curious to see more of a breakdown as to what parts of Quebec were more likely to admit racism. Montreal, where the attacks took place, is generally quite a functional multicultural society, though there have been a number of recent incidents that have marred that reputation. I spent two years in Gatineau, a far less diverse community despite it's proximity to Ottawa, and the racism there was far more blatant.

Some suspect a correlation between this poll and the attack on the school, proposing that perhaps this attack was a reaction to the survey results. That doesn't make much sense to me. This isn't a reaction; rather, it is an illustration of the poll results; it is an example of the 59% racism in the province, and a reflection of the 50% of the population that has a poor opinion of Muslims. Who would react to a poll in such a way?

What is disturbing about events like the one today at JMC is how it might affect the children. These are very young students; I doubt they understand why people might feel hatred for them. For a 6-year Muslim child from a Muslim family going to a Muslim school, with little interaction with people of other beliefs, this can potentially shatter their early beliefs about the sheltered society they live in. In 2004, the library of a Jewish elementary school in Montreal was set ablaze by a firebomb launched by a masked man. A year later, a 19-year old Muslim was charged in the attack, and sentenced to two years in prison.

Many children, inspired by Saturday morning cartoons, grow up with a very polarized view of the world, one of heroes and villains. For the young child gazing at the shards of glass in his classroom or ashes of the library he used to love, it becomes very easy to believe that the world really is that simple, and that the villains are truly lurking at every corner. It also becomes very easy to declare who the villains are.

In this country, children this young shouldn't even know how to hate. But we insist on teaching them.

Of Premieres, Prairies, and Prayers

These are interesting times for Canadian Muslims.

Tomorrow is the series premiere of "Little Mosque on the Prairie", a new CBC sitcom about the daily happenings of a young Muslim community in rural Canada. It is the brainchild of Muslim filmmaker Zarqa Nawaz, a young Muslim mother of four, who has a number of films already to her credit. There has been considerable excitement leading up to tomorrow's premiere, with international media attention falling upon this unique take on Muslim culture.

What I like about this is that it is advertising itself as a take on a certain part of Canadian culture, rather than a take on Muslim culture. That is, it runs on the assumption that Muslims are part of Canadian culture, rather than a community removed from the rest. Just as other sitcoms may take a humourous look at other cultures that make up the greater Americana, "Little Mosque" appears to take a similar approach. My initial worry was that while this may be hilarious to people like me who would likely understand all the "inside jokes", it would not appeal to a wider audience. When a father looks upon her scantily clad daughter and mutters "Astaghfirullah!", would Mr. Joe Average know what this means? That, coupled with the fact that CBC sitcoms rarely garner enough interest to turn viewers away from American television, lead me to believe that while creative, this project would likely not succeed.

But perhaps that isn't an issue. The humour for most people may precisely be in the fact that the protagonists of this story are different. It wasn't only stuffy aristocrats who enjoyed Frasier, and I imagine that only a few of the regular viewers of Prison Break are former convicts. Ultimately, what matters is that the characters tell an interesting story. I rarely watch television, but I know I've laughed at humourous takes on Jewish, Italian, and American culture. Can others laugh at ours? They laugh at my stories of flimsy stereotyping, innocent misunderstandings, and Jum'ah shoe-switches; perhaps there is potential. Perhaps I can even contribute my own scripts.

There are of course certain conflicts of interest that this whole series presents. I won't get into them here, except to say that the culture of the arts often presents significant challenges for a practicing Muslim. One little-known aspect of my life was my early passion for theatre and improv. There was a time in my life when I considered it a legitimate career option; in fact, many people from my former improv team actually have made a career of it, and have been quite successful on the national improv circuit. But as Islam became more and more important to me, I realized that there was little chance of finding the right balance in that environment, with those people. If the team behind "Little Mosque" has managed to find that balance, I would like to know how. If not, the series may fall into the trap of inviting to Islam by falling into the unlawful. A male can't introduce Islam to a female by flirting with her, nor can a person promote Muslim culture by having Muslim actresses demonstrate their normalcy by wearing skimpy clothes on national television.

The series premiere of "Little Mosque on the Prairie" is being aired at 8:30pm EST on CBC. Anyone else among the Canadians readers planning on watching this? I'd love to hear your thoughts. And for those outside of Canada, have there been any comparable projects overseas?

Whoops...

The hockey fans among you will know what this is, but it's just too funny not to share.

Small Kindness

I received a wonderful gift from my employer today.

It is a clever, colourful book called "Change the World for Ten Bucks", with the tagline "50 ways to make a difference" gracing the front page. Apparently, there is a British, German, and Australian version of this book as well; I was kindly given the Canadian version, replete with Canada-specific tips on making the world a slightly better place. Somehow, I find it telling that there doesn't appear to be an American version of this book.

The book comes from an organization called "We Are What We Do", a grassroots activist movement with chapters around the world. It is based on the premise that seemingly small individual contributions to society can add up to significant change, be it social, political, or environmental. The opening page of the book quotes Mahatma Gandhi, stating that "we must be the change that we want to see in the world."

And in that regard, the book then provides 50 simple actions that anyone can perform to make the world a better place. The following are a few examples:

Action 3: Spend time with a child.
Action 6: Plant something.
Action 14: Spend time with someone from a different generation.
Action 16: Give your change to charity.
Action 19: Learn one good joke.
Action 23: Have more meals together.
Action 36: Take time to listen.
Action 44: Pick up litter.

Each action is accompanied by a couple of paragraphs of text and colourful pictures, much like a children's book. Consequently, the reviews posted on the back of the book come from children aged 14 and 15, as well as older people including Dr. David Suzuki, a prominent Canadian environmentalist. It's a book that I imagine would have a fairly universal appeal, which is probably why my employer selected it.

Naturally, I saw parallels between these actions and certain verses of Quran and hadith. The Gandhi quote, and the overall premise of the book, immediately reminded of this famous verse in the Quran:

"Lo! Allah changeth not the condition of a folk until they (first) change that which is in their hearts." (13:11)

This verse frequently precedes discussions and lectures of how we must introduce internal change before we can expect serious change in our societies and communities. Understanding this concept is a start, but many of us stumble on introducing the internal change. We often think that others are the problem, and that our actions mean little in the grand scheme of things. And thus, the internal change we seek turns back into change we expect of others.

The Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam once instructed his companions not to belittle any small act of kindness, however insignificant it may seem. We never know if that little act of kindness is what we need to tip the scales in our favour.

To remove something harmful from a path is a branch of faith; this co-incides with Action 44, on picking up litter. Actions 3 and 14 echo the sentiments expressed in several hadith. One noteworthy hadith is the following:

'Ala ibne Kharijah narrated that the Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam said, "learn from your lineage to be able to do good to your relatives." (Tabarani, Majma'uz-Zawaid) The more we learn about our elders and fathers, the better we can relate to others. Their experience often goes a long way, and we as youth often dismiss that.

Numerous traditions express the value of charity, mentioned in the book as Action 16. Feeding guests is the subject of numerous sayings of the Prophet, and a number of stories from the lives of the Companions. A hadith recorded in Tirmidhi states that "there isn't a Muslim who gives another Muslim clothes to wear, except that he will be in the safe custody of Allah, so long as a shred of the cloth remains on him."

Another hadith, recorded in Sahih Muslim, states that the Prophet said that "any Muslim who plants a tree, then whatever is eaten from it is sadaqah (charity) on his behalf; what is stolen from it is also sadaqah; what animals eat from it is also sadaqah; what birds eat from it is also sadaqah; what birds eat from it is also sadaqah; whosoever takes anything from the tree, it is sadaqah (for the one who has planted the tree)." Sounds a lot like Action 6 to me.

As I pored over my copy of Muntakhab Ahadith to find these narrations, I found numerous others which illustrated the simple concepts discussed in the book. These are our actions, I thought. We as Muslims should be the ones writing books like this, and more importantly, actually doing these actions. I then went through each action listed in the book, and found a number that I could perform right then and there. It is probably a failing of my own imaan that stalls my action when I read hadith to the same effect.

Ultimately, actions are governed by intention, a principle so critical in Islamic belief that it is the first narration mentioned in many major collections. I recalled an article I read first in the book "First Things First" by Khalid Baig, about the significance of seemingly minor virtues. The essay, entitled "All Virtues, Big and Small", is available on-line for those interested. In it, the author reminds us that no virtue is too small; alternately, a seemingly minor sin can have major ramifications.

The "We Are What We Do" movement has their Canadian website at www.WeAreWhatWeDo.ca. The complete list of actions from the book is available here; readers can record their completion of the actions on the website, and summary statistics are given to show the overall progress. It's still new, with only 5182 actions performed by Canadian readers when I wrote this. The UK website shows that over half a million of these actions have been performed thus far among the British readers.

From the Muslim perspective, these actions should not be performed for the sake of improving statistics, but only for the pleasure of Allah. In any case, I did find this book encouraging, and strongly believe in the ability of such simple actions. So if you read this post and decide to avoid plastic grocery bags for a day, rest confident that some good will come of it. If not for the environment, at least it will add some weight to that pan of virtues if done with the right intention. Encourage another to do the same, and let them encourage others. Perhaps it will not tip the scales against global warming, but it may tip our own scales away from a heat far more intense.

A new year begins

This was the last black and white Calvin and Hobbes strip ever published. It appeared on Irrelevant Opinions a couple of days ago. Unfortunately, with the strip over, my little Javascript also broke, and thus the daily comic won't be working until I fix it somehow. It shouldn't be too hard to fix, hopefully. It'll cycle back to the first year of the strip, from 1985, which I found less entertaining than the later years.

Happy New Year everyone! I find the concept of resolutions somewhat arbitrary and unnecessary, but I pray that everyone has a prosperous year ahead.

And Eid Mubarak!

Update 1.6.2007: After some minor tweaking, the script works now. Yay!

Eats, Shoots & Leaves

The Punctuation Game

Not sure what the title means, but this might help me with my oft-criticized apostrophe issues.

My apologies for the meaningless entries of late.

Update 1.2.2007:

This is probably why people take the time to contact me about my grammatic failings. "They reveal that you have paid no attention to your own writing and invite the reader to respond in kind."

That's a great website, by the way. Writing, Clear and Simple is a blog with some great tips on conveying meaning clearly, and I've learned quite a bit from it in the last couple of months. (It's also where I found this punctuation game.)

Why I love the holidays

December 27th, 2006:

I prayed Fajr in Mississauga.
Zuhr and Asr in Kingston.
Maghrib in Ottawa.
And Isha in Montreal.

That's five prayers in four cities, a new personal record. Though in retrospect, I should have prayed Zuhr in Bowmanville; I'm due for another visit.

In addition, I found time to resolve a number of long-standing issues, including one nearly two years old, alhamdolillah, and managed to still find time to help someone move for three hours. I feel accomplished.

Hajj Journal | CBC Montreal

Online Hajj Journal | CBC Montreal

CBC, which I've come to greatly respect for the balanced news reporting and fair representation of Muslims, is hosting the journal of a sister from Montreal who has gone for Hajj this year. These are always interesting reads, and it's nice of CBC to include that on their website. I sometimes read over my own, and regret that I really did not express myself well. I generally wrote at times of inconvenience and frustration, and didn't capture my awe and amazement of the whole experience; I could have written something much better had I collected all my thoughts at the end rather than write at odd times during the actual rituals. Anyway, I'll be keeping tabs on this journal on CBC; it's always encouraging to read such accounts.

And while on the subject, this post is easily the best I've read describing the experience of Umrah. A very inspiring read that deserves a better medium than the blogosphere.

Arar Recommendations | CBC News

CBC News summarizes the principal recommendations for the RCMP coming from the Maher Arar commission:

Arar Recommendations | CBC News

Arar has accomplished so much already just by having his name cleared. He was just one person up against an entire government agency, and he's winning. Truly inspiring.

IO 2.0

I recently upgraded to the Blogger beta, which has a number of new features and brings it closer to matching Wordpress, which I admit is the better blogging platform. I'm relatively happy with Blogger, primarily because I've built my template mostly from scratch and don't feel like doing it over, and I'd rather not go with a boring generic one.

The changes don't mean much for you as a reader, except that most posts are now categorized for your reading convenience; you can see the full list of categories along the right side of the page, and navigate at your leisure. For those of you visiting through an RSS reader, you can now subscribe to a comments feed if you are so inclined. I imagine you're not. I encountered one somewhat annoying bug during the upgrade: a number of comments have now been marked as "anonymous" for some reason.

And for all those who have e-mailed me recently, commenting isn't broken; I just disable it occasionally. So don't worry about the monkeys.

Update 12.13.2006: It turns out that the commenting is actually somewhat broken as part of the upgrade. I think this primarily affects users who are signed in to older Blogger accounts (as opposed to their Google accounts.)

Blogger mentions the bug here, but they say it's been fixed. Oh well.

the blurst of times

a thousand monkeys at a thousand laptops a novel does not make
for behind the words is a work of sweat, hardship and heartache
yet the monkeys tried and sweat they did, all for menial pay
but still they tried, and felt inside they'd finally have their day

most would fail, to no avail was their random typing
a broken dream, they'd yell and scream and wouldn't quit their griping
but there was success, as the monkey press made it so well known
some did their best, made it big, and now are on their own

one group punched many keys but they were gibberish at best
but those who read them came to greet them, thinking they expressed
words of sorrow, words of anger, appealing to the stressed
and the group broke off, became big stars, and went out to the west

others smashed away, an odd array, of u's and i's and t's
but some found words that appealed to nerds of dubious degrees
and thus they learned and quickly turned to their expertise
and made big bucks, in their monkey tux, doing as they please

one remained who wrote his mind, he had so much to say
of humour, heartache and all between, in a unique monkey way
and the monkey earned respect and love, and oh so much hype!
but all alone and in the light, poor monkey couldn't type.

Andalus

For those of you who have about 100 minutes to spare, this is a very enlightening documentary about Muslim Spain.

I have often wondered why we as Muslims have lagged so far behind when our predecessors were the pioneers of modernity and civilization. There is little innovation today in the Muslim world; at best, we copy the West, but unfortunately we tend to take the worst of it while leaving the good.

During my travels in South Asia, I heard many people lament about how things were becoming too "westernized". I generally take exception to hearing this sort of talk, as it undermines all the good in the West. I can walk outside at night and feel safe here. I can go to a store, and not expect to get swindled. I can breathe the air and drink the water without feeling sick. I can freely go to a doctor if necessary, and expect professional, courteous treatment. These are basic expectations that I've come to take for granted in Canada, but they are also expectations that should theoretically stem from Islamic living. Unfortunately, that's not the case.

The problem is not that Muslim countries are becoming Westernized. The problem is that Muslim countries are taking the bad from the West while leaving the good. We'll adopt the crude language and skimpy dresses, but ignore the orderly lineups and clean washrooms. We'll bring the booze, lottery tickets, and racy magazines into our stores, but we'll ignore all that Western nonsense about recycling. After all, throwing things on the street is much easier, and we don't want to imitate the kufaar.

Tobacco companies are starting to lose their battle in the North American market, but they're finding great adoption in Pakistan and Bangladesh. While smoking is becoming increasingly inconvenient in most major cities in Canada, it is becoming more and more common, almost encouraged, in much of the Muslim world. Even here, I know more Muslims who smoke than non-Muslims, the justification being "it's not haraam, brother. Allah said not to make what is halaal to be haraam." Personally, I do believe it's definitely haraam, but I won't get started on that because this sort of reasoning annoys me considerably.

Muslim Spain was the envy of the world; it set the precedent upon which the European renaissance was largely initiated. It was built upon a foundation that sought the best of two cultures. The basis remained Islam, but the Spanish Muslims were not afraid to learn the arts and sciences of others. Much of the classical philosophy we study today only reached us because the earlier Muslims preserved the texts in Arabic. This philosophy preceded Islam, but there remained some value in these texts that was worth preserving. This was not a compromise on their own values or beliefs, but a reflection of the curiosity and discovery encouraged by Islam.

It would have been easy for the Sahabah to brush off the suggestion of Salman al-Farsi radhiyallaho'anh to build a trench around Madinah. After all, Salman was coming from a society of fire-worshippers who were not guided by Allah or the Prophet. But in spite of this, the Prophet sallalaho'alayhi wa salam saw value in the idea, which ultimately lead to the successful defence of the city. This wasn't imitation of the kufaar; this was a case of taking the good from another society and adopting it.

Where have we gone wrong? It's not that Muslims are uneducated. When I first started at the University of Ottawa, I was surprised to see that half of my professors were Muslim, and the dean of the faculty was a Muslim woman wearing hijab. Nearly all the teaching assistants were Muslim, as were most of the graduate students. Most of them were Egyptian, but there was a good number of Lebanese, Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi Muslims amongst them as well. There were some exceptionally brilliant people among them who were the pride of the faculty.

Among the graduate students was my Egyptian roommate of two years. While he was also very intelligent, living with him gave me a peek into what really goes on in the minds of these Muslim students. I lived with him during the course of his Masters degree, and I knew he hated every minute of it. He would come home frustrated and angry, but never gave up. His perseverance astonished me. During this time, he went through a messy engagement that lasted over a year before breaking, but he kept his dedication high and his grades strong, something I failed to do during a somewhat similar ordeal. While he clearly lacked interest in his studies, he did extremely well. All the while, he would lament about how he would rather have been a cook instead, though the fool he used to serve me at breakfast made me glad he took up engineering instead.

Eventually, I moved away to live closer to the university, and he left the city as well after successfully completing his masters degree. Several months later, he called me up regarding some outstanding bills, but not before we caught up with one another.

"So what have you been up to lately?", I asked.

"I'm just doing my PhD right now, should be done in a year or two," he replied. I was astonished! A PhD? The poor guy hated every minute of his masters', I couldn't imagine him going through yet another several years in earning the PhD. I asked him to explain.

"Well, I'm planning on visiting Egypt soon," he said. "And I would feel shy to go back there with just a masters' degree." Just a masters' degree. I started realizing that many of these people were getting degrees only for the sake of degrees. I recalled one night where he had taken me to visit one of his friends who was working at a local pizza place. This friend was working there to cover the costs of his own PhD. He had already completed two masters' degrees in Engineering, and was well on his way to completing his PhD. And he was working in a pizza place. With two masters' degrees. I asked him what he wanted to do after he completed his studies, and he casually said "I'm doing what I want to do."

It's unfortunate that I've rarely seen any of these students venture outside academia; they generally become professors, or leave the discipline entirely. They could accomplish so much with their talents and education, but their education often goes to waste because it is sought for the wrong reasons. After living with that roommate for as long as I did, I discovered one frustrating trait of upper-Egyptian culture: higher education is not something that is considered exemplary or honourable; rather, the lack of higher education is something that is considered shameful.

Really, all that education is serving little more than to pad up their biodata (and according to my roommate, that's really the main goal). There's an incredible talent pool sitting there in the Muslim world, but not one single Muslim engineering firm has demonstrated much innovation in the last 50 years or so outside of the oil industry. Yet, there are PhD graduates in Computer and Electrical engineering making pizzas (and serving as prime ministers in inefficient governments.) All the while, we drive European and Japanese cars, talk on Finnish cell phones, and use American software.

I have often thought of Germany as a viable example for the Arab and Muslim world to follow. This is a country that has been decimated twice in the last hundred years, but has built itself up only on the strength of it's own people. It is not a land replete with natural resources, nor is it one with significant trade routes. Yet it is full of dedicated workers who can look beyond their past to harvest a better future. And it's been working.

There are opportunities out there to be explored, and a talent pool with the knowledge to make the most of these opportunities. Andalus was the envy of Europe, as much for it's advanced civilization as it's religion. Today, we are barely hanging onto our religion, and have hardly any civilization to be proud of. Progress starts by beginning with the fundamentals, and regaining that sense of discovery that the early Muslims brought forth. It doesn't happen in spite of Islam, it happens because of it.

Prayer Times extension

For those of you using Firefox, I would highly recommend the fzami Prayer Times extension. It's the least intrusive and most useful Prayer Times software I've tried.

A message from my brother

A few days ago, my brother got quite badly injured in the playoffs of Season 6 in the West Island Muslim hockey league. The description of the incident and ensuing injury was quite gruesome to hear, and was certainly much worse for those who saw it. I haven't been home yet to see the extent of the injury, but alhamdolillah he's doing much better now.

He wrote a message to the other players of the tournament which I really liked, and thought I'd share:

Assalamo Alaikum Everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone for your concern. It is a very good sign to see Muslims really caring for each other. Even the first aid people in Kirkland Rec were impressed with the initial treatment our brothers gave me. May Allah reward each of you. Alhamdulillah, by the grace of Allah, I am doing very well. The injury was only external, and the pain ended even before I reached the hospital. I didn't even have to wait long in the hospital before seeing the doctor. He put about 12 stitches, and Insha Allah, it should be healed in 7 - 10 days. I will likely return to work on Wednesday, and get back into a more normal routine.

It is our eman that whatever is supposed to happen to us, cannot be avoided. And whatever is supposed to miss us cannot reach us. This injury was Muqaddir from Allah, and it is just a test of patience and other qualities. Also, the Prophet (S.A.W) explained in one hadith that it never happens that anyone faces any hardship, not even a thorn prick in the foot, except that Allah uses it to either forgive his sins, or elevate his level in paradise. Also, going through pain helps us relate better to others who suffer more than us, and reminds us of how much we need to be thankful for the countless bounties we have been given. May Allah accept all of our deeds, forgive our sins, and give us success in this world and in the hereafter.

I look forward to seeing everyone again, and being ready for Season 7.

This was posted here, on the Great Hockey website.

I love West Island, and all the brothers there. I haven't seen a community quite like theirs anywhere else, and I often miss the days when I was among them.

730 Days of Irrelevance: The Year in Review

And thus the second year of Irrelevant Opinions is over. Perhaps every November 25th should be celebrated as "Irrelevance Day", celebrated exactly two weeks after "Remembrance Day" to forget about those brave souls who fought for our country and reflect on things less meaningful.

It's been a strange year. While it has been very eventful from a personal standpoint, what was most notable for me about this year was how little had changed. While the first year of Irrelevant Opinions saw me move past the decades of academia, journey for several months to Saudi Arabia and India, and take my first steps in the professional world, this year by comparison has been quite stagnant. I expected to see a great deal of change, but not the sort of change that eventually transpired. Instead, the year was largely characterized as one of miscues, close calls, and near misses.

It was my first full year of working. While the academic life was always full of surprises and every semester was a new challenge, the professional life changes little from day to day. Granted, the very nature of my occupation precludes routine. And all that being said, I can't help but feel thankful for the life I have. While this year truly lacked much of the pace and progress of previous years, I still managed to move about and see the world. I spent time hiking alongside waterfalls and babbling brooks in the French Alps, cycled along the Fox River in Illinois, and scaled the snow-covered mountains in Whistler.

In terms of Irrelevant Opinions, it was a year in which readership grew considerably before losing most of it during my many extended breaks in the year. During my five-week hiatus in France, a few of the main referrers to this site pulled their links, while many more were removed during the technical failures that plagued these pages in the latter half of the year. Still, the readership that remains is dedicated and friendly, and it's great having you all around.

Like last year, I will opt against writing something meaningful in favour of recycling old material.

January 3rd, 2006: Bugs in my Cereal. Almost a year later, and I still don't know what I meant by that title. Strangely though, "cereal bugs" (or similar variations) is one of the most popular search terms that leads people to this site. For some reason, people seem to search for "irrelevant bugs in cereal" much more often than you would think.

January 13th, 2006: Havelli. This post still makes me laugh, knowing the story behind it.

February 11th, 2006: Legacy. It doesn't always have to be irrelevant.

March 5th, 2006: Hope Restored. I never quite finished writing this, hurrying to a conclusion without actually describing anything from the conference itself. I should get back to this someday; there were a few great speakers whose lectures I should have written about.

April 3rd, 2006: Was Better Alone. Writing can be very therapeutic, sometimes.

April 9th, 2006: Cryptic Voicemail. This also still makes me laugh; it turned out to be the product of the former and current MSA Presidents at my alma mater.

July 24th, 2006: The Struggle. Still one of my best stories.

August 15th, 2006: Muhammad, the Last Prophet (Animated Film). I wish my nephews would watch this more, and Transformers less.

August 25th, 2006: A Discussion over Chick Peas. This wasn't a very good piece to begin with, but there were lots of interesting comments here.

September 7th, 2006: Sidewalk Afterthoughts. I received a number of e-mails and personal messages expressing appreciation for this post, so it must have had some value.

November 16th, 2006: Litterbugs in my cereal. Not sure why I kept that "bugs in my cereal" theme going.

Thanks to all the readers; Google Analytics tell me you come from all over the world, speaking a number of languages and running a plethora of browser versions. Though many of you choose to remain silent, your support is much appreciated. Keep up the good work.

Imams Ejected from Flight | BBC News

Six imams ejected from US flight | BBC News

"The six men were taken off the US Airways flight, bound to Phoenix from Minneapolis, after a passenger reported 'suspicious activity' to cabin crew."

I spend an inordinate amount of time in airports around Canada, and can't imagine this sort of thing ever happening at any of them. While I have read so much about the work being done in the US around cultural awareness and sensitivity, there still appears to be a great deal of ignorance and paranoia. I'm curious as to how Canadians have managed to protect themselves from such paranoia, as I don't see the same types of social programs in place here. Most Canadians seem to understand and accept the religious practices of Muslims without us having to explain it.

Litterbugs in my cereal

When I saw this sign at a park off Highway 99, a whole slew of bizarre images were conjured up in my tired mind.


The prosecution lawyer advanced to the front of the courtroom. The defendant sat meekly before him. At first, the lawyer said nothing; he wanted to revel in the guilty expression gracing the defendant's face, with his head dropped, his hands folded, and beads of sweat forming. That image alone may have swayed the jury against the favour of the poor defendant.

"So, Mr. Zigglefroo. You see all these people before you. The allegations are clear," the lawyer chided. "Do you realize the implications of this allegation?"

"Yes sir," the defendant whimpered.

"And what do you have to say about these charges?", the lawyer pushed on.

"I .. I have nothing to say."

The lawyer stopped his pacing, and moved to the middle of the courtroom. "He has nothing to say!", he announced. "Mr. Zigglefroo says he has nothing to say! Is that what you told the police when you were caught red-handed in the despicable act you are accused of?!"

"I .. I didn't do anything!" The defendant was nearing tears. The prosecution lawyer felt no sympathy.

"Nothing! He says nothing! My friends, your honour, what this man calls nothing is far from nothing. This man was caught in one of the most vile, most devilish acts in the history of the parks commission. This man, Mr. Zigglefroo, by his own admission threw his culinary waste into a trash receptacle while not in the state of tourism!"

Gasps from the audience. Then silence, broken by the footsteps of the prosecution lawyer as he continued to pace the courtroom.

The defendant continued his whimpering, "I didn't do anything!"

"Nothing? Nothing?! You mock the law! You break the law, then you mock the law! It is people like you who are the bane of our society. You start off as toddlers, playing games meant for three-year olds while you're only two. You tear the labels off pillows which specifically warn you against tearing said labels. You eat just one Lays potato chip, and you can believe it's not butter! And what do you say you've done? Nothing!"

The sweat begins to drop more profusely. Mr. Zigglefroo's face is red.

"And then one day, you'll walk into a zoo with a sawed-off shotgun and start killing pandas left, right and centre, strangling ostriches while chewing on the cartilage of squirrels!"

Objection! Overruled! Other typical courtroom clichés! The defendant, poor Mr. Zigglefroo, sat all alone as the murmurs amid the crowd became louder, more pointed, more accusing. And the lawyer would not let up.

"This man, Mr. Zigglefroo, is a criminal! The sign was clear, 'Tourist Use Only!' And was Zigglefroo a tourist? No! He was on business! And all others dumping refuse will be prosecuted! And here he is now, proving his guilt by his silence! He was no tourist - but soon he'll be touring JAIL! Hahahahahah!!!"

Pandemonium ensues. The crowd begins throwing crumpled papers and rocks toward the defendant. A brawl breaks out amid the jury. One lady gets punched in the face, and she returns the favour by smashing a chair against someone else. Another gets hit in the head with a stapler. She throws a pencil.

Finally, Mr. Zigglefroo broke. He leaped out of his seat alone at the front of the courtroom, his whimpering face turned to rage and insanity.

"Yes! I did it! I did it! And I'll do it again! Yaargh!!!" And with that, he began running around the courtroom in circles, grabbing the gavel off the judge's desk, while the bailiff attempted to tackle him and restore order. But even as he was pinned underneath the bailiff, Mr. Zigglefroo managed to shove the gavel into the gaping maw of the bailiff.

"Whoops, sorry Mr. Bailiff! Your mouth didn't say food use only!! Yargh!!"

The judge came down from his platform, let his robe drop to the ground, and kicked Mr. Zigglefroo in the head knocking him unconscious. Finally, order restored. The judge then pulled the gavel out of the bailiff's face, taking another quick jab at the jaw of Mr. Zigglefroo with the blunt end.

"Court adjourned," he stated.

And thus Mr. Zigglefroo was dragged from the courtroom, and all the others proceeded to file away. Everything was left in disarray; papers scattered everywhere, coats and glasses and briefcases spread across the room, and for some reason, there was an injured turtle resting limp in the aisle. And so it remained until evening.

Finally, a janitor entered the room, surveying the carnage. He began sweeping his way through the spoils of the drama, until he realized something was awry. "Hmm.. where do I throw all this out?"

Disclaimer: Obviously, I know nothing about the legal system.

Oh, and I feel fine.

Surreal

Clearly, my Ramadhan break took a little longer than expected. It was a good one, though I spent nearly the entire month alone. Normally, I would break my fasts with my Jewish colleague, who skipped lunch for nearly the entire month out of "solidarity"; quite a departure from all the years of breaking fast with family, or the six years of Ramadhan at the University of Ottawa with 200 friends every evening. All that being said, Ramadhan did afford me a unique chance to be part of the community, and I quickly found my place at the nearest mosque. That particular community was a very different demographic than what I am accustomed to, but I somehow fit right in as the token young single guy.

I was a little surprised upon seeing the imam for Tarawih on the first day. He did not at all match the image of most huffaz and imams I grew up with. Rather, he seemed like the most typical Pakistani uncle you can think of, and I was somewhat disappointed. He recited fairly well, however, and made very few mistakes. Still, I was not entirely comfortable at the beginning.

A friend used to drive me home nearly every day after tarawih. One day, he commented, "the blind hafiz is amazing, isn't he?" The blind hafiz? I didn't know who he was talking about. But lo and behold, it turns out the imam I was reading behind was completely blind, even though he made no visible indications of being so. Instantly, I developed a great deal of respect for that imam, and any superficial thoughts I had of him as a typical Pakistani uncle quickly disappeared. That revelation also reminded me about the beauty of the Quran, and the miracle of hifz. It's an amazing thing, that adults, young children and even the blind equally have access to memorizing the most beautiful text in any language. It's something that appears to be quite common, but we must never lose our sense of awe at the magnificence of it all.

A person doesn't need to look far to see the signs of Allah. Whether it be witnessing the miracle of Quran memorization, or seeing the beauty of nature, the signs are all around us. As I once said in a speech I delivered a few months ago, we don't need to wait for the moon to split; there's enough evidence in our day-to-day life.

It seems fitting to include pictures from my trip to Whistler yesterday. My cousin made the trip down from Petawawa, and we had an awesome weekend traipsing the snowy mountains and navigating dangerous cliffside highways in a fun little Yaris. There's one more activity that I'm dying to try, so I just need to convince someone else to take a weekend trip to Vancouver and accompany me on another crazy adventure.


Lions Gate Bridge, on a typically wet, dark, and rainy morning in Vancouver.


In the valley between Whistler Mountain and Blackcomb Mountain.


A suspension bridge through the valley.


Snow sitting atop the needles of a Western Hemlock, with Usnea lichen hanging down, as gentle snowflakes fall in the background. This picture makes a great desktop wallpaper.

More pictures here: Flickr

Arar to accept human rights award via video | CBC News

Arar to accept human rights award via video | CBC News

"Maher Arar will accept an international human rights award Wednesday, but won't travel to Washington for the honour over fears he'll be detained again."

I have much respect for Mr. Arar, and have met him on a number of occasions. It's wonderful to see him honoured this way, but terribly ironic that he still fears travelling to the US. His fears are justified, given his earlier treatment, and illustrates how much more work remains to be done. I'm sure he'd much rather receive full justice and security in his travels than any honours and rewards.

Something Irrelevant

One personal frustration that bothers me more than it should is this: when I think up a great comeback days or even weeks after an initial remark. Conversely, one of the most satisfying feelings is when I do successfully respond in a timely manner. Thus, the following incident was immensely satisfying in a weird, inane way.

I was in Ottawa after one of my weekly cross-country flights from Vancouver. I was speaking with a friend, who had recently graduated from University of Waterloo. Somehow, we started discussing the quality of tap water; apparently, it is much better in certain parts of Ottawa then others. I mentioned that Vancouver tap water was good. The Waterloo graduate then said, "Man, the water over in Waterloo is terrible."

Quickly, my reply came, "is it because the Water comes from the Loo?"

Toilet humour, but it made me laugh no less.

Moral: Not every story needs a moral.

And with that irrelevant anecdote aside, I am going to take a break from Irrelevant Opinions to sort out some thoughts, focus on Ramadhan, and work on some personal projects.

May you all benefit greatly from the blessed month that is upon us. Ameen.

Le fureur du jour

So the issue of the day is the obscure quotation of Pope Benedict regarding the Prophet Muhammad salallaho'alayhi wa salam. Unlike the cartoon issue, these words came from a highly influential figure whose words carry much weight in world theology. For the most part, the response has been more civil and restrained than back in February, but there have been some unfortunate episodes of violence and at least one murder. Nice way to demonstrate that Islam isn't a violent religion, guys.

Since I don't believe that the Pope is a regular reader of Irrelevant Opinions, I'm not going to bother dwelling on the issue, as others have already written so much. And if, Mr. Ratzinger, you are reading, es tut mir Leid. Sorry.

Here are some worthwhile reads on the issue:

Pope criticises, Anjem embarrasses | Indigo Jo Blogs

Responding to Provocations | Musings of a Muslim Mouse

When You Just Don't Care Enough | Izzy Mo’s Blog

And if the Pope is reading this, here are two earlier posts that you might find educational:

Legacy | February 2006
Muhammad, the Last Prophet: Animated Film | August 2006

Faith over Fundamentalism

As usual, a Sikh taxi driver drove me from my Vancouver hotel to the airport for my return flight to Montreal. The topic of conversation, of course, was the bloody rampage yesterday at Dawson College. Details regarding the gunman have started coming out, including the fact that the gunman was of Indian/Sikh origin. This troubled the taxi driver. "How come he became like this?", he asked. "I've never heard of a Sikh doing such things."

"But he wasn't a Sikh," I said. "He may have come from a Sikh background, but I don't think he considered himself to belong to any religion. He was just evil, and religion had nothing to do with it."

It felt weird; normally, I find myself trying to defend Islam against the horrible actions of some who claim to be Muslims. Today, I found myself defending Sikhism against the actions committed by the Dawson gunman. In this case, there was clearly no correlation whatsoever. Of course, if the gunman came from a Muslim background, this would clearly be considered a terrorist act. The way I see it, it was a terrorist act regardless of who was responsible; were people not terrorized by the threat of a gunman roaming the hallways of the college?

Where people are trying to find a correlation is with regards to the gunmans' association to the Goth subculture. I had written earlier against the Gothic subculture as a very misdirected attempt to tread away from the norm; they focused entirely on image while ignoring the real threats present in mainstream society, particularly the rampant commercialism. One reader, himself part of the Goth subculture, interestingly remarked that he had never considered the Goth subculture from the perspective of someone already outside the mainstream. That is, since many Muslims are often considered outsiders themselves, their perspective on the subculture would be relatively free of the usual criticism directed towards their kind.

The obvious comparisons to the Columbine massacre have been plenty, and are deserved. In both cases, the gunmen belonged to middle-class suburbia, in relatively normal homes with relatively normal families. One important difference was that the Dawson gunman was reportedly not affiliated with Dawson College in any way, while the Littleton pair attacked their own school. His choice of the college as his target appears to be entirely arbitrary; his "revenge" was not against specific people, but simply an attack against a random group of youth he found to be vulnerable. And that's just sickening.

A lot of criticism has been raised against the vampirefreaks.com website where the gunman kept his blog. Apparently, an earlier murder in Alberta also involved members of this website. I took the time to read some of the forums on the site, and found some very disturbing comments. While many were quick to condemn the actions (they almost sounded like Muslims!), a surprising number of them appeared to be defending the gunman. One wrote that "the way you people are cursing him and attacking him makes you no better than him." Excuse me? I think cursing and attacking a guy who just walked into a school and shot over twenty people isn't as bad as shooting over twenty people. Another wrote, "where were his parents?"

The unfortunate part is that the blame always seems to be directed towards everything else, because we simply can't figure out why a person would actually do such a thing without any motivation or influence. It's perplexing, but it appears to be the natural result of a society devoid of morality and faith. Of course, many argue that faith actually causes more hatred than it prevents. They'll point to the many episodes of religious fundamentalism today, and make a strong case out of it. But again, it comes back to the same discussion the taxi driver and I had; some people are just evil, and religion has nothing to do with it.

The vampirefreaks.com website, seemingly taking a page from nearly every Muslim organization in North America, has issued a strong condemnation on their website, saying that Goths remain peaceful and loving, albeit depressed people. Blaming it all on the Goth culture is as much a flaw as blaming all of terrorism on Islam; however, just as there are certain questions Muslims must ask themselves regarding their direction and place in the West, the Goth subculture needs to do the same. Unfortunately, most people don't quite consider them to be a legitimate "organization" of any sort, so their condemnations will fall on deaf ears. Then again, so do ours, most of the time.

What can we do? I don't think anyone knows. No matter what anyone does, no matter what laws are in place, or no matter what people try to believe, there will always be crazies who go their own way. Right now, many of the families of the victims, as well as the victims themselves, have found some reprieve in the church. Some comments published in the Gazette demonstrated that even those who were never religious before simply did not want to feel alone and confused, and found comfort in the hallows of the nearby church. And of course, prayers were made at many local mosques.

It's fitting; no matter how much people say about religious fundamentalism, no matter what atrocities are committed in the name of God, we as humans always turn back. Because in spite of all our shortcomings, in spite of all our ingratitude, Allah still loves His servants. Allah still wants us to return to Him. And even while some continue to associate partners to Allah, or reject Allah entirely, the doors of repentance always remain open.

Update 9.17.2007: Great post by Shan - The Blame Game

driven by emotion, lacking a motive

It's one of those things that happens somewhere else. Unfortunately, Montreal is somewhere else to the rest of the world.

A man, reportedly in his mid-20s, walked into Dawson College in Montreal with an automatic weapon, opened fire against a mass contingent of students in the cafeteria, and eventually either turned the gun against himself, or was shot by police. There have been conflicting reports throughout the course of the day; some say there were up to three shooters, others give different descriptions. What has been confirmed is that two are dead (including the shooter) and at least nineteen have been injured (several seriously). No motive has been established.

Dawson College is part of the CEGEP network, the brief post-high school/pre-university phase we all go through in Québec. Many of my high school friends studied there, while I went through John Abbott College. I can't think of anyone right now, but I'm certain that I know current students of Dawson; there are only a handful of options for English-speaking students, and Dawson is definitely the most central one.

I was only 8 years old when a gunman entered École Polytechnique in Montreal, killing fourteen young women before killing himself. I didn't quite realize the ramifications of the event at the time. I was probably in Grade Three at the time; I remember writing about it for the "Current Events" journal we needed to keep back then.

It's incredibly frightening that such people exist in our own backyards. What are their motivations? How can someone foster that much hate, that they would be willing to just start killing people randomly? This is not Iraq or Palestine where people are growing up in the midst of violence, where everyday is a nightmare. This is Montreal, the home of hockey and smoked meat sandwiches; where does such hatred come from?

There is currently a murderer on the loose in downtown Vancouver, accused of killing a number of homeless people in the last few weeks. The murders have been occuring on the streets I walk everyday, yet no one knows exactly who is responsible, or what their motivation may be. The sad reality is that some people need no motivation; they have simply lost any trace of humanity they once had.

The motivation for the Dawson shootings remain unclear; perhaps, we'll never know. Media reports stated that there was no clear link to terrorism, but whatever happened clearly was an effort to terrorize innocent people. I imagine that for some twisted individuals, the posthumous glory is enough of a motivation; after all, there were several incidents of "copycats" in the wake of the Columbine massacre. The children responsible for that atrocity have left something of a legacy, however morbid. Whatever the motivation, there can be no justification. The students will never be the same, nor will the school itself.

For the average person like me, it hurts to feel so helpless. Being helpless against aggression and hatred overseas doesn't worry me as much as it should, because the physical distance is a legitimate barrier. But when you see and hear of these sorts of atrocities from your own city, it's another story altogether. Like many of us felt eleven years ago after the Toope murders, we are forced to ask ourselves, is there anything we could have done?

It's a bit of a conundrum; we'd like to think we can do something to prevent such senseless acts, but at the same time, we don't want to hold ourselves responsible. No matter what anyone does, no matter what efforts are in place to prevent such incidents, there will always be people who fall through the cracks.

Hopefully, we'll see the details unfold over the next few days as the investigation begins. Unfortunately, none of those details will change anything, nor make this any less of a crime against humanity, nor will it alleviate the suffering of any of the victims. Investigators will investigate, reporters will report, and bloggers will blog, but that will not stop haters from hating or murderers from murdering.

May we all be protected from hatred, injustice, and aggression. Ameen.

Monday, September 10th, 2001:

Of all places, I happened to be in Moscow.

"So, what's the story?", my friend asked.

"You're not going to believe this. The flight has been delayed seventeen hours," I replied. We had already been waiting for a few hours. I had just returned after running around the dismal Moscow airport for hours trying to figure out what the heck was going on; there were no indications as to where we were to gather for the final leg of my journey, to return home.

"Seventeen hours?!"

"Yep, seventeen hours. The flight is at 3am. We should be home around 8:30am Eastern on September 11th."

* * *
Tuesday, September 11th, 2001 - Montreal:

We were tired, hungry, but relieved. We were finally home. I walked towards the exit where I caught a glimpse of my family, awaiting my arrival after an entire summer overseas. A security guard pulled us aside, and sat us down in a room outside Customs.

I didn't know why. There must have been at least a hundred people on the plane, but only three of us - myself and my two friends - were pulled aside. Quickly, we discovered that something was greatly amiss - security started running about, barking into their radios.

"Do you know what just happened?", one guard angrily asked me.

"No idea," I replied.

"Two airplanes just hit each other on top of the World Trade Center in New York." There was no clear consensus as to what actually happened in those initial moments, but what they did know was that all air traffic controllers in the United States were being urged to ground all flights. I didn't know what was going on, but somehow I was being singled out for some reason.

And then they instructed me to open up all my suitcases. I complied, as did my travelling companions. They searched everything, digging through my books and notepads, finally stumbling upon a bag of jewellry my aunt had put away in my suitcase without my knowledge. I was slapped with a big fine for misrepresenting the goods I was bringing into the country. During their search, they also inquired about the purpose of my visit to Pakistan, my earlier visit to Saudi Arabia still listed on my passport, and why I wasn't aware of the contents of my own suitcase.

Finally, I was let go, over an hour after everyone else on the same flight had already left.

I finally met with my family. My greatest worry at the time was the week of school I had already missed. That worry didn't last very long.

* * *
Friday, December 14th, 2001 - Ottawa:

It was just before Jumah prayer. I was living at the University residence, descending to the lobby in my usual gray thobe.

On the elevator, an older, caucasian man looks me up and down, and asked me, "So... did you see the tape?"

He was referring to the Bin Laden "confession" tape that was revealed the day before.

"Oh yeah... that tape. Yeah, I saw it. I wasn't convinced, to be honest."

"You know what I think?" I had gotten fairly used to hate speech by that point, so I was mentally prepared to respond; fortunately, I never had to.

"You know, as soon as it happened, I was sure it was Bin Laden," he said. "But after seeing that tape, and how it was so obviously a fake, now I'm starting to think otherwise. That they would go to such lengths... it's clear that it's fake."

* * *
Friday, September 8th, 2006 - Vancouver:
I watched Loose Change for the first time. Nearly five years had passed, but my mind was never settled on the whole issue. Earlier, I had a discussion with a colleague regarding my misgivings around the whole "official story".

"So, you don't believe that it was done by terrorists?"

"No - that's not what I said," I replied. "It was done by terrorists. By definition, it had to be done by terrorists - it was an evil, murderous act to promote some twisted ideology. I just have this radical notion that terrorists don't have to be Arab or Muslim."

* * *
I don't know what to believe about what happened, except that it was horrible, inexcusable, and the guilty will one day pay a horrible price. At the same time, I don't consider it to be any more an act of terrorism than bombs being dropped from fighter planes in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Lebanon. And for those, there's no doubt as to who is guilty.

Loose Change, and similar media efforts, raise some fundamental questions. The typical responses, minus the profanities, are as follows:

1) "Yes, and Elvis was escorting the plane while riding a unicorn."

2) "Yeah right, you stupid liberals. Go back to killing babies and raping men."

3) "What, you want me to believe some crappy low-budget film made by some stupid kid? What's more likely, that the government would go to such lengths to kill it's own people, or that some stupid kid just wants to get attention and make a whole lot of money?"

4) "Shut up you stupid moslem, we're going to blow up your countries and send you back to the stoneage you damn towelhead."

A whole lot of ad hominem, unfortunately. The actual arguments are rarely challenged, primarily because no one wants to believe that the allegations can be true. If they were, it would challenge every idea of freedom, democracy, and justice the Western world has ever thought existed. Thus, anyone who dare question the official story is dubbed to be a fanatic, a nutcase, or a terrorist.

I have read a few actual counterarguments, but none that can stand up to even basic scrutiny. At best, they'll explain how the collapses of the North and South towers could have happened, but none of them dare try to explain the absent wreckage at the Pentagon, or the collapse of Tower 7. They won't even start on the suspicious trading and insurance claims that preceded the terrible events.

* * *
Whatever one believes, one must never lose sight of the fact that this was not the beginning; this was merely one of many atrocities which have been committed not for religion, not for democracy, but for wealth and power.

I'm struggling to find a conclusion, probably because there has been no conclusion to the events that I've written about here. I'll leave the politics to other blogs; I've written far more about politics than I am comfortable with already. While I search for my conclusion, I hope everyone else has success in coming to conclusions of their own.

Sidewalk Afterthoughts

Every once in a while, I let myself get frustrated. That's a fairly natural human emotion, but I tend to feel guilty afterwards; life overall has been very kind to me, and the worries I struggle with seem so insignificant in retrospect. Monday was one of those days where I let impatience overcome me, forgetting all the good in my life for the sake of a few minor frustrations.

Vancouver is a beautiful city, but it holds a dark secret: there is more poverty here than almost anywhere else in Canada. The Downtown Eastside area, situated just a few blocks from beautiful waterfront condos and trendy boutiques, is home to what is considered to be the poorest area of Canada. The sad consequence is that the neighbourhood is rife with drugs, homelessness, and prostitution. The crime rate is reportedly one of the highest anywhere in North America, and the results of that trickle into the more mainstream areas of downtown.

I see more beggars on the street here than anywhere else in Canada. The impoverished come in all shapes and sizes; if you were to see some of them just walking down the street, you'd never expect that they would have to beg just to make ends meet. Many of them are young, with seemingly good heads on their shoulders; they could have so much potential were it not for the drug addictions. Others have lost their wits entirely, walking around aimlessly for days on end, yelling and screaming profanities at the wind and rain.

And that's when I start feeling guilty about ever feeling frustrated. There was no choice these poor souls made that have brought them to where they are. None of these people simply decided that this was the life for them. They fell victim to circumstances mostly beyond their control, and now walk the streets with little hope of ever enjoying a comfortable life. They walk hungry, dirty, and incapable of even sorting out their own thoughts. Their beds line the sidewalks, and trashed coffee cups become their wallets. And my daily realities far exceed even the best of their dreams.

Neither my talents nor my hard work have saved me from such a life. There was no choice I made which protected me. Every breath I take, and the comforts I enjoy while taking them, have been gifts from my Creator. And perhaps the greatest gift I have is that I recognize this to be so; how many millions of people go through their lives with no belief at all? How many millions of people suffer from hardships without having the comfort of faith in their corner? It is a gift in itself to believe that there is Divinity listening to our thoughts and prayers; without this, we would all fall entirely to despair.

Ramadhan is fast approaching. Sometimes, I look at the beggars in the streets and try to justify my complacency by reminding myself that I will be fasting for an entire month in a few weeks. But that fasting, as valuable as it is, is still insufficient to truly show gratitude for all the favours I have been blessed with. Fasting in itself is a favour, because it is a sign that I have been given the gift of faith. So how do I show gratefulness for the ability to fast? What thanks do I give for the ability to perform prayers during the night and day? As one scholar said, "prayer alone is not a sufficient token of gratitude to Allah. In fact, the prayer is itself another blessing we must show gratitude for."

Truly, no amount of action on our part will ever complete our obligation towards gratitude, but Allah remains the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful. We do what we can, and pray that our actions are accepted; please remember me in those prayers.

Update 9.16.2006: Please read this wonderful post at Reflective Dust for a practical response to this piece.

Random observations on airline safety

It's amazing people still fly anywhere.

* * *
Awaiting my flight at the Ottawa International Airport, I passed by a drink stand and asked for a bottle of orange juice.

"Sure," said the cashier. "But because of the new restrictions, I'll have to pour it out of the bottle and into this cup before I can give it to you."

"Um, okay." I replied.

The cashier pulled the bottle off the shelf and began pouring the contents into a plastic cup. She looked up and smiled.

"Don't worry, we're fighting terrorism."

* * *
I can't bring deodorant on a plane, but I can bring a Dell laptop that may explode.

* * *
An Iraqi American was refused entry onto a flight because of Arabic writing on his t-shirt.

The story: Arabic T-Shirt Sparks Airport Row | BBC News
The personal account: Back from the Mideast | Raed in the Middle

* * *
Panic erupts on a flight bound for Ottawa because of a flushed iPod.

The story: iPod prompts airport scare in Ottawa | Ottawa Citizen
The reaction: Flying the Paranoid Skies | Ottawa Citizen
The personal account: I played a game, I became a terrorist | World of Warcraft Forums

* * *
A pilot flying from Ottawa to Winnipeg locks himself in the toilet in the middle of a flight.

The story: Canada pilot in toilet trip drama

* * *
There were six well-publicized crashes in August 2005, making it one of the worst months in commercial flight history:

• Air France Flight 358


• Tuninter ATR-72


• Helicopter Crash near Talinn


• Helios Airways Flight 522


• West Caribbean Airways Flight 708


• TANS Peru Flight 204

August 2006 began with the uncovering of an alleged plot to blow up a number of commercial aircraft at Heathrow Airport. There were two major commercial airline crashes in August 2006, followed by another on the first of September.

• Pulkovo Airlines Flight 612


• Comair Flight 5191


• Iran Tupolev 154 Crash

And yesterday, a British Royal Air Force plane crashed, killing all twelve soldiers on board.

* * *
Well, at least we won't be subjected to the threat of an Arabic t-shirt on a flight.

Update 9.06.2006: Another amusing story out of Ottawa:
Speeding Driver blames lack of goats | Reuters

Not related to this post or worthy of it's own blog entry, but I just had to put it somewhere.