Albania since you were born, statesmen have shitted on you

A blind logic or…
It is said that once, Fishta was so much tired by the impossible desire to see Albania as a Heavy Madam that, in a desperately moment he expressed that he was not an Albanian anymore. Later, Konica, extremely disappointed believing that all his efforts and his devotedness like an patriot were going damage in this homeland that was not walking with the steps of the west progress, screamed with rage: Albania, I have shitted on you!…
And the spoiler’s devil’s advocates, undeclared co-owners with the pharaohs of Pharaoh’s Albania, applauded, continue to applaud and will go on to applaud unless the apologists of Albanian wisdom oppose toward their eternity. Devil’s advocates (advocated of the demon), endless spoilers said, say and will say: Well, compatriots, here it is how much the famous like Fishta, Konica and others in the tribune of the Albanian thought do love Albania! Turn them yours backs and pray for endless eternity of you politician’s idols. Pray for the statesmen’s race who administer the fates of your children and your children of children generation after generation!… Do you believe the psalms of the devil’s advocates?!… I myself cannot believe the fact that such expression against Albania that look more like aberrations of desperate moments, can hold the authorship of the great Albanians, Fishta and Konica. I think and reflect that maybe they are result of popular anger, not toward the motherland, Albania, but toward its administrators, rulers-officials-statesmen whom time after time, perhaps since life was born, they have saddled to this blessed land and they rape it in the most devil manner as now and again you create the idea that this place is the Hell itself. And it is known that Hell worries and enslaves you in that level that you feel comfortable as a part of its misery if you are without brain, and if you are wise it even displeases, disappoints and rebeles you as much as it pushes you to confront its pardons or to escape as soon as possible if you can. If you are unable to be rebelled, the Hell drives you mad; sometimes even the wisest is pushed to lose the logic… So, Fishta and Konica have been depressed so much in any moment and have exploded like spokesmen of popular anger or, the anger of popular wisdom has blindly looked on behalf its intellectual leaders…

Blessed or…

I believe with all my soul that Albania, our Father and Mother, is a land blessed by God because, do we want or not, it is one of the most ancient settlements of the Life, placed between the most ancient civilizations, in Mediterranean, (the Middle of the Earth, of the World, of the Globe – Mediterranean). So, somehow like a center of the human’s roots. And it is known that Mediterranean is the Paradise of this world, it has the most wonderful climate as it was the Womb of Life itself. Isn’t it in Albania a climate with more than three hundred sunny days just in a space of about fifty kilometers? Let’s say, in space between Tirana and Durrës you can find the mountain, the field, the river and the sea where life is luxuriated in all its forms. Isn’t this the image of the human dream? If you have a two money cost mind in your head, immediately you understand and you can cried it out till the sky’s cup: Albanian is the Paradise!… It is a place blessed by God!… And so it should be, but in Albanian reality happens in a different way. Surprisingly, Albanians have always been and are (wish to never be anymore) the poorest Mediterranean, the most despised, the most enslaved, the most traumatized as much that the Paradise given by God seem to be the Cursed Hell and they eternally dream how to the opportunity to migrate and to make a living, another homeland, further and more further than Albania. So, in reality Albania appears as a cursed place. And this is a killing appearance that lies, deceives, drives you crazy and pushes you to feign all sorts of urban legends which estimate all sorts of false idols on the back of the Albanian poverty. It pushes you in a free charge path, in aberration after aberration which at the end just perpetuates the power of our politicians-pharaohs… Oh God! Why such an ill luck for the miserable Albanians? Why our Albania cannot take after Greece and Italy, to be a modern state, a sweet shelter for its citizens (not just for statesmen!)? Even its executioners, Serbia and Macedonia (pseudo-state), are walking with European steps, whereas Albania is reduced as a bandits’ jungle where statesmen-leeches get fat with the blood of eternal enslaved Albanians!…

Our vote – The power of false idols

You don’t believe it?! You think that I am exaggerating, that I am overdrawing or I am holding a grotesque position toward the Albanian politics? Believe me, if you have felt how politicians treat us, as a votes’ greenhouse, they come so humbled like saints, ask so tenderness like idols and take so easily our votes to use them afterwards with diabolism as bets over our backs! We cultivate and raise votes in our being to feed the pharaoh politics. You don’t believe me?!… You cannot believe me unless you are frazzled in the hell that Albanian politics plants in our fatherland and motherland, in Albania, after it gets fat with our votes… You cannot believe me unless you are deaf-and-dumb and blind, or part the power of such false idols…
I have said once (in another writing, hope in another life!) and I am repeating again that Albanian politics has chosen the pharaoh governance model obtained by Ancient Egypt with the only difference that once there used to govern just a pharaoh, whereas in Albania govern many pharaohs leaded (formally) by the Head-Pharaoh. And this model has been chosen with the full consensus of the position and opposition (remind the famous consensus of our politics in the moments of how many crises that our country has had in the post-communist era, after 1990).
To be more precise I am widening the time space of pharaoh governance with the phrase: on the ages of ages (still I cannot see an opportunity to overthrow the Albanian pharaoh!). And, if you do not remain sake, I am adding the fact that already we are being governed by some female pharaohs! And the male politics has promised not a little to them: more than thirty per cent of the power! We must not forget the seduction power of female pharaohs over the male pharaohs (imagine for a moment even that power which pounce the donkeys over assess) and together we will understand that we are in front of an Absolute Power that aims the eternity of the Pharaoh Desert named Albania. And we plant votes in our souls and pharaohs, devil’s advocates and female pharaohs are fed and powered without limits with the votes of our souls.

Us, the eternal deceived…

Still don’t believe in me?!… Then, I am telling you something more concretely about my relations with the politics… When I was too young, still snotty, I don’t know why I dreamed to be a writer. I read and read and I was totally lost in that magical world of books and the writers resembled with some great magicians who came down in earth by the stars’ world and did miracles for the ordinary people. It seemed to me that if could be a writer I would belong to a special race that, with the force and the magic of the word I could clean up even the alleys of my village by stones who used to bleed mine naked feet and those of my contemporaries, I could satiate with the most delicious bread and dish all the hungry villagers who used to work every night and day in the wheat’s fields and hardly could find any morsel of moldy corn bread… I thought that if I could be a writer, with the magic of the word I could kill all the dragons and monsters of the world and I would make so many wonders… And once I became a writer… And since the very beginning I run into some kind of devil’s advocates who started to advice me how I must write in order to not risk the fates of the homeland (of the pharaoh’s power) and my future. I should be in conformity with the rules they dictated (in that time they were red and they were called communist, now they are blue and pretend to be democrat), otherwise, I knew my destiny, I would end up in rope (today unemployed in a big road). I think you know that these devil’s advocates who protect the pharaoh’s power are called censors. And I must praise their power and that way I would be well paid like many graphomen or, I would sing for the Albanians’ wounded souls who dream through centuries and centuries for a civilized Albania as the neighbor states, shelter of the human aspirations, to suffer after that the bad fate of many eternal dissident writers with the pharaoh’s politics. And I chose to sing for the free spirits, to enrich them with the virtues of all the world… And, for the good or bad fate, I was always under the violence of the devil’s advocates-censors… Anyway, I am not repentant… I am continuously leaded the by souls of Homers, with the thought that I belong to a divine race which once will achieve to defeat the injustices that the pharaoh’s politics feign over the Albanians back… I believe in the ideals of the great Albanians rebelled toward the tyrannies… I believe, and that’s why I am deceived like all the honest Albanians…
Do pharaohs want my votes and those of my friends? Certainly! That’s why devil advocates do keep them! They well paid and trained to collect our votes with scones and violence… Scone?!… Do not be deceived that you are really eating their scone. It cannot be eaten by and even by me, who pretend to be a wise man. They do know very well our human weakness and play like the cat with the mouse with it. And we, instead of the promised scone, do eat the lies and violence after they do take our votes as always… So, we are always deceived, a human weakness of the honest people, they always win and drink our blood, a devil power of the dishonest leaders…

Pharaohs and devil’s advocates, the eternal winners…

I am originally by the province of Chameria, the second Albanian’s Kososva, stolen by our southern neighbors, Greeks, the same as Kosova before which was grabbed by Serbians and today it was given us back by Americans, the justice makers of this monster’s world. I believe that the Albanian politics would help me to return back in Chameria, in my birthplace, where even the graves of my ancestors have been violated. And, with hope, even this is a weakness of good people, I start negotiating with the politics. I love Chameria and they the Chams’ votes. The politicians of the PD, PS, LSI and of all the parties and colors, of the Position and Opposition, every election eve, send me the heralds, I mean the devil’s advocates, and they promise me the wonders of the fairytales of one thousand and one nights in exchange of the votes of my Cham’s friends. And I, the eternal deceive, with the hope that really would happen any wonder, I put in line my friends (be understood, they believe me and I shamelessly utilize their trust and the humanism of my soul) and we fill the sacks with vote’s presents to all the politicians (it is so striking that the Santa Claus exists only for pharaohs and devil’s advocates!), we bring them in power to have them afterwards turn their back and beat us for four years and if we dare to rebel toward them, they will re-deceive and will re-take our votes endlessly every time they have to reorganize the elections of their happy future.

Where is the end?!…

The happy end is always reserved for the powerful men. Thus, pharaohs-devil’s advocates! What can we do, they know how to behave as the powerful men of Albania by lying and deceiving us, the powerless, by betraying and selling the national ideals to our neighbors, the eternal chauvinistic who love Albania as a reserve for their nationalist desires… You would say, what about Europe?!… Po Evropa, do thoni ju?!… It is unfair like all the powerful ones who sit around the tables only with the other powerful. Who is that hangman who has respected its victim, except using it for its perverse pleasures?… Europe, friend of Serbian a and Macedonian hangmen and it’s is easily understood that it will open the doors for them, and not to the victim Albania, at the same time also victim of its pharaoh-devil’s advocates betrayals!… So, there is no happy end for us, Albanians, until we will be eternal slaves of our votes…
My appeal: We must become powerful and one can be strong by abstaining. We must not give even a vote more for this political class. We don’t have to go to elections… And this way they never will fill the boxes just with the votes of their followers. And that time the politics would remain shitted if front of Albania… And the world would understand that something is changing even in Albania… Never know?… In this world are the powerful, the justice makers like Americans, who certainly will note our massive abstaining and will impose changes to this unappreciative politic toward its people, over the back of which is cradled and grown up…

Shefki Hysa
Writer

Advertisements

About culturalcommunity

International organization about the culture, traditions, customs, mentalities, popular physiology, etc...
This entry was posted in Publications. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s