Galloway is not Labour’s problem but the country’s.

Last night, dictator apologist and Islamist agent George Galloway was voted back in the house of parliament, our cradle of democracy, after devastatingly humiliating Labour in Bradford West (Respect 18,341 / Labour 8,201).

The Labour Party leadership, especially Ed Miliband and Tom Watson, have questions to answer why, although repeatedly warned, they took victory for granted. Blaming Galloway’s success on Tony Blair and the Iraq war, as some absurdly try to do, misses the point. Iraq is at best a symptom; not a cause. Labour won Bradford West twice after the invasion of Iraq.

In the end, Galloway’s appeal derives from his tidal wave of anti-US/Israel propaganda. He is a man who wins elections by resorting to the politics of sectarianism and by exploiting people’s fears and prejudices, creating an unhealthy, to say the least, climate of hatred.

Yesterday, was a sad day for all freedom-loving people. The winners sit in Gaza City, Teheran, Caracas and Damascus.

Galloway is the country’s cancer, not Labour’s. We shall all be working together curing it.

Wuthering lines: Saddam’s torturing rhymes

It should come as no surprise that even dictators have hobbies. But poetry is not exactly what one would expect. However, when looking closer at Saddam Hussein’s private life, one will find out that he was a keen writer.

Famous for his notorious sound bites – my favourite one being:  “I rather kill my friends in error than let my enemies allow to live”- I now can confirm that his lines were as twisted as his fines and his rhymes as bloody as his crimes.

In what were allegedly his last written words, Saddam expressed his feelings in mind-raping metaphors:

Our Baath Party blossoms like a branch turns green

The medicine does not cure the ailing but the white rose does.

[I am confident the starving population of his terror reign would agree, considering that Iraq had an infant mortality rate equal to Congo while food and medicine, provided by the United Nations, were locked up in Saddam’s stockrooms.]

We never felt weak

We were made strong by our morals.

[Morals such as gassing over 200.000 Kurds based on ethnic identity, killing women in group rapes, or crucifying children on prison walls.]

Here we unveil our chests to the wolves

And will not tremble before the beast.

[Mind you, Saddam had a kinky obsession and fetish with animals, as revealed in his book’s scene about a female bear shagging a farmer.]

I sacrifice my soul for you and for our nation

Blood is cheap in hard times.

[It was certainly cheap and constantly running in Saddam’s Iraq with blood bottles probably being the only thing hospitals did not lack.]