"Down there" in the dark, dark, Chamber...

Layla Anwar, An Arab Woman Blues

Some of you may have noticed, I have not written about Torture per se. I simply could not. I have said it before and will repeat it again. I am someone who needs to digest things and find that inner place of partial acceptance. And Torture is that thing where I have not managed to find that inner place, to digest. It is simply indigestible...No use trying to force acceptance. I will NEVER accept it. For the sake of this post, I have watched tens of videos of Abu Ghraib torture. And this has been going on for two weeks already. And every single time, the emotion is so strong, it paralyzes me... I had seen them in the past and I have even met a couple of "survivors" and I was unable to conjure up that necessary "lieu" of objective detachment so I can write about it. Even today, I am not capable of it. So what you will be getting in the following lines is graphic and crude. As graphic and as crude as the reality of Abu Ghraib brought about by your own hands. I have deliberately opted not to post any images from Abu Ghraib. Not because I care about your sensitivities. I, in fact, don't give a fuck about them. But because I respect the bodies of those who were tortured. And being true to them, I have not posted pictures of their naked bodies parading in front of you. Their bodies are as sacred as the land that gave birth to me...

continua / continued