Family crisis

“War is not merely a political act, but also a real political instrument, a continuation of political commerce, a carrying out of the same by other means. All beyond this which is strictly peculiar to War relates merely to the peculiar nature of the means which it uses. That the tendencies and views of policy shall not be incompatible with these means, the Art of War in general and the Commander in each particular case may demand, and this claim is truly not a trifling one. But however powerfully this may react on political views in particular cases, still it must always be regarded as only a modification of them; for the political view is the object, War is the means, and the means must always include the object in our conception.” (Carl Von Clausewitz 1780-1831)

I was about to start my night shift when I received his email. After all regular stuff that is repeated in every email, he asked about some old stories that I had not even remembered them. Some crappy family stories from 40 years ago when none of us was even on the earth.

Why is he concerned about these issues, the stuffs that he didn’t take part in any of them?

“…I want to know what did happen when your dad was in Seattle. Why did their relationship change dramatically after they met each other in Portland?...”

I don’t fucking give a shit why. They are two adults and responsible for their own deeds. I’ve not got a clue.

And just look at it:

“…I believe this is our job to find what happened on that summer. This is part of our heritage…”

Heritage!? Do you call that shit heritage? I don’t even consider our 300 years family documentations as heritage…

Nima calls it the book of “Who shagged who” and my father always looks at him irritatingly

I think this guy is too American…

I don’t really know how I should answer him. How could I explain him something that I don’t know or if I used to know I don’t remember it anymore?

I have my own problems.

I am sure he is in front of the screen, smoking cigarettes after cigarettes and checking his email every 30 seconds; although, I haven’t met him in my life.

But I know he is a chain smoker, pretty much like me.

I also know that he was in the first Gulf war in 1990, but he served in Saudi Arabia, in a camp which was exploded two years after.

They said that the explosion was made by Iranian IRGC. No one has proved it yet.

I know other stuff about him as well. For instance, I know once in 1987 he left the house and no one heard about him for three months. After three months he called his mom and informed her that he got married, living in Montana.

Montana?! Yes, Montana.

Four months after he came back home on Thanksgiving Day. His father didn’t talk to him for two months.

Then for his birthday he bought him a pickup truck and told him: Happy Birthday.

Happy Birthday too daddy!!...

Because they were born in a same day; with 35 years difference though.

Sometimes, I am thinking this guy is not only in a kind of identity dilemma but also his genes are in paradox too. I mean his cells, his organs.

But you can say all of us may have such a physical paradox. For instance I do have paradox between my brain and my heart or even when I am drunk between my legs and tongue. But I think his case is a real one, not a Mickey Mousy stuff.

I can imagine him lighting up another cigarette, standing, going toward the hi-fi and turn the volume up. It should be after his work.

He is working from 7:00 AM to 4:30PM. That’s why he is still dependant to his dad financially.

I can imagine him now going in front of Tele, sitting down beside Emily. Emily is asking:

- Has he replied?
- Not yet.
- OK, it is late in UK now. He is sleeping.
- No, he is living like a rat.
- But rats can also sleep.

Emily, as every one said, is a nice blond Californian girl. They met each other in UCLA after the Montana story and Gulf war, I think in 1993.

I can imagine her chubby legs on the table, changing the channels on the Tele and she is now stopping on Fox News.

I think Fox News, because she voted for G.W. Bush as his dad did.

“And finally from Tehran, Iran — Iran's military said Tuesday it has manufactured a new missile with a range of 1,200 miles capable of reaching Israel and U.S. bases across the Mideast, the official news agency IRNA reported. The defense minister, Gen. Mostafa Mohammad Najjar, did not say whether Iran had test fired the Ashoura or had plans to do so…”

- It is all bullshit.. Change this shit. They want to send us to a new war. If they attack Iran I will burn myself in front of the White fucking House. They can’t do it. There are 2 million Persians just in California. We don’t let them to invade our country.

Emily is changing the channel unwillingly.

He is standing again, going behind the computer and checking his email….Still nothing, nothing as nothing…

He is lighting another cigarette. He is thinking, perhaps, that I am not taking his email seriously.

- I am not in their game. I am simply not in. They don’t let me know. He was my last hope. But he is the same, absolutely the same. They don’t consider me as one of them. I have the same blood. But they don't want to believe it, because I just can’t talk the language. But what could I do? My dad has never taught me.

He is whispering with himself.

- Come on honey. Let’s go to Music Pub. Today is fusion night.

Emily is saying

She is right...9215 W Olympic Blvd, Beverly Hills, CA is just in walking distance. Go man, go…Don't kill your time like this.

Kill it like that...

He is turning back and Emily can see a couple of tears on his chin.

- OK, I am calling Julie and Dean to join us. I think Dean is working till late but Julie is off today.

She is going to pick the phone and give a call to Julie. He is checking his email again.

- Nothing, still nothing…

He is lighting another cigarette, sinking in the sofa, staring at the computer screen and floating in his dreams about his identity.

“…In Tehran, Gen. Mohammed Ali Jafari, the head of the Revolutionary Guards, warned against growing pressure on his country in comments obliquely directed toward Washington. The ocean of the Iranian nation may sometimes look calm but if it becomes stormy it will create tsunamis, Jafari said...”

Emily is turning the Tele off and looking at him from the corner of the living room anxiously. She is so worried for him and of course for herself.

She is pregnant.