I typically dislike Barbie products, but when I saw this in Wal-Mart (which I also typically dislike) I couldn’t resist buying it for my niece:

It’s a Barbie as Mary Jane Watson doll, and as all of us should know, Mary Jane is Peter Parker’s wife. In fact, this doll is wearing the wedding dress that was featured in the comic where the two got married (Amazing Spider-Man Annual #21, 1987).

As the worldwide furor over the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten’s Muhammad cartoons grows, with Muslims boycotting Danish products and even certain people in Syria torching embassies, many in Canada are probably wondering what the controversy is all about.

Danish writer KÃ¥re Bluitgen complained of the difficulty of finding an illustrator willing to draw Muhammad for a book he was writing on the Qur’an and Muhammad. In September of 2005, as part of a “discussion” on the freedom of speech and self-censorship with regards specifically to depicting Muhammad, Jyllands-Posten commissioned twelve artists to draw Muhammad.

Many strains — and certainly the mainstream strains — of Islam forbid depictions of God, Muhammad, and other prophets. This is, in part, to prevent the worship of images. Most Muslim art from days back that has waded into depicting Muhammad usually obscures his face with light. In 1976, Moustapha Akkad produced and directed a film about the beginnings of Islam — “The Message.” The epic film masterfully portrays the early rise of Islam, all without ever once showing Muhammad on screen. Recently, several Muslims protested Time and Newsweek magazines’ depictions of Muhammad. The magazines subsequently apologized.

Muslims typically do not respond to depictions of Moses, Jesus and other prophets — who are prophets of Islam. Many watch the Ten Commandments, many others have seen the Passion of the Christ. There are also several depictions and representations of Muhammad all over the place, spanning several centuries. Many have been done by Muslims. Sometimes such depictions are very visible, but rarely elicit such a response. Why?

Much of the reporting on the cartoons simplifies the matter — the implication being that hordes of uncivilized and ultra-fundamentalist Muslims are reacting wildly to simple portrayals of Muhammad. However, the images published by Jyllands-Posten go far beyond simply depicting Muhammad — and very little reporting has actually described the pictures themselves. Many of them are disgustingly racist and stereotypical. Some of the artists who submitted cartoons decried the provocative nature of the assignment.

Here is a summary of the twelve drawings:

Kurt Westergaard‘s drawing is perhaps the one that has been seen by most people. It depicts Muhammad with bushy, eyebrows and a bushy but close-cropped beard. His angry eyes have dark circles underneath. His turban, with “There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is his messenger,” inscribed on it in Arabic calligraphy is actually a bomb ready to explode.

Jens Julius Hansen‘s drawing has an Irani mullah-looking Muhammad standing in heaven in front of a presumably endless line of suicide bombers. “Stop, stop,” he implores, “We have run out of virgins!”

Franz Füchsel depicts Muhammad inside an ornate palace, wearing a green robe and looking at a drawing of himself. He is telling two charging angry Muslims with swords and bombs and guns to “Relax guys, it’s just a drawing made by some infidel from nowhere.”

Arne Sørensen shows a nervous cartoonist leaning over his drawing board and looking over his shoulder. He is drawing Muhammad — wearing a keffiyeh and sporting a hooked nose and almost bulging eyes.

Annette Carlsen‘s drawing featuers a line-up of seven people. All wearing turbans that look more Sikh than middle-eastern. It is hard to tell who is who in the line-up, although a a hippie and a woman (the two on the left) are clearly identifiable, as is KÃ¥re Bluitgen on the right. He is holding a sign that says, “KÃ¥re’s public relations, call and get an offer.” A man assessing the line-up says, “Hmm, I can’t recognize him.”

Erik Abild Sørensen shows five symbols that are presumably burqa-clad women, with Stars of David as eyes and Crescents as mouths. A caption says something like, “Prophet you crazy bloke! Keeping women under yoke” or “Prophet! Daft and dumb, keeping women under thumb.”

Rasmus Sand Høyer draws Muhammad with a turban, and a tunic with a shawl draped over one shoulder. He is holding a scimitar and has another one hanging off a belt going from shoulder to hip. He’s got a long frazzled beard with similar eyebrows. His eyes are obscured by a black bar. Flanking him on either side are two women in black abayas that obscure everything but the eyes. Their eyes are wide open, as in an expression of surprise.

Claus Seidel shows Muhammad wearing an orange turban, a white tunic, and white pants extending to the shins, as well as slippers. He is holding a stick in one hand, and with the other hand he leads a donkey loaded with stuff.

Poul Erik Poulsen has Muhammad wearing a turban, a tunic and pants that go down to the ankles, as well as slippers. However, his hands are held together and the tunic’s sleeves obscure both his hands. He has a brown beard. Around his head is a supposed halo. It is a yellow crescent going around and behind his head so that it looks like he has two horns coming out.

Peder Bundgaard draws a stylized Muhammad’s face integrated with a green crescent and star. The crescent cradles Muhammad’s face, and the right eye is a star. He has a turban and quite a hooked nose.

Bob Katzennelson draws KÃ¥re Bluitgen wearing a turban. An orange falls on his head and on the orange it says “PR-stunt.” Bluitgen is holding a stick figure drawing of Muhammad.

Lars Refn draws a young boy named Mohammed using a pointer to highlight a statement written in Farsi on a blackboard. It translates as something like “Jylland-Posten’s journalists are a bunch of reactionary provocateurs.”

I’m not going to bother, right now, with an actual analysis of the images. I’ll leave that up to you.

Most are presenting this as a bipolar issue. On one side are the defenders of the freedom of speech who argue that anything goes. On the other side are Muslims who argue that any depiction of Muhammad is blasphemy.

Water that polarity down a little and you get one one side people who admit that the images may have been offensive, but nevertheless defend the freedom of expression. On the other side are Muslims and progressives who agree that freedom of expression is very important but has its limits when it is likely to stoke such strong passions.

Free criticism of Muhammad and Islam is very important, just as criticism of Jesus and Christianity is important. If a religion is, indeed, the truth then it should be able to stand up to the criticism and if these men are indeed flawless messengers of God then their behaviour should stand to criticism as well. Muslims should be willing to receive and respond to such criticism, rationally and reasonably. This doesn’t always happen. Very often Muslims simply respond with attempts to shut down public discourse.

What’s also true is that recently there has been a hegemonizing and ossification of Islamic opinion. Whereas in the past depictions or at least modified depictions of Muhammad were permitted, recently the flexibility inherent in Islamic tradition has become rigid and has tilted toward absolute prohibition of such depictions. (However, this prohibition is not without basis in Islamic scripture and history. Muhammad is said to have taken out pictures of Jesus from the Ka’bah and to have destroyed them as well as other idols.)

At the same time, it’s not simply a matter of Muslims silencing any criticism of Muhammad. It has to be accepted that Muslims have a deep reverence and respect for Muhammad, above and beyond all other prophets. Popular depictions of Jesus and Moses don’t arouse Muslim passions. No Muslim burned copies of the Da Vinci Code, despite its tremendously blasphemous depiction of Jesus. Many countries have laws that prohibit the use of freedom of expression in such a way that may incite violence or be construed as a hate crime. The blatant and shameful racism and insensitivity shown in many of the above cartoons was simply a provocative action on the part of Jyllands-Posten. Hiding behind freedom of expression is a convenient defense, but it’s hard to believe that this is really what it was about in the first place.

It’s great to see the Muslim grassroots sticking it to Danish and other corporations by boycotting their products. It’s not that great to see them burning embassies and kidnapping foreigners. Somewhere along the line, though, they have to be able to distinguish between a newspaper in Denmark, its government, and its corporations.

There are plenty of problems in the Muslim world, many of these problems are a consequence of Muslim ignorance coupled with foreign interference. The links are clear. Why not channel such efforts toward ameliorating those conditions? Boycott American products, and maybe they’ll stop propping up the dictators. Stop buying SUVs, start buying Japanese hybrids. Why not use this anger to burn government buildings, where corrupt dictators have been picking off billions and billions that should have been going to the people of those countries? Why not protest racism and blatant xenophobia in the Arab world?

As for the Europeans and North Americans, it’s great to pretend to be defenders of rights and freedoms, while actively and covertly denying the majority of the world their rights and freedoms. That’s all that needs to be said on that matter.

The editor of the Varsity got back to me and said he’d like to publish the comic strip. It’ll appear in the Varsity beginning Monday, I think.

Recently, I’ve been watching some good Hindi films, and have been listening to some good Hindi songs. To the extent that that’s all I’m listening to (to the exclusion of the English, etc. songs) and I’m annoyed that all the CDs I’ve burned for my car are full of English songs (with the exception of Ande Ka Funda and Kajra Re which, despite their merits, aren’t exactly the cream of the crop) and that those are all that are on my iPod.

I want to get these Hindi songs on my iPod, but I’m kind of lazy and don’t entirely have the time. Besides, I’m paranoid about using my iPod with the buds because of ear damage (and I’ve used buds for a hell lot of time). I’m thinking of getting some noise-cancelling headphones from ebay, or worst come to worst, just the normal types of headphones.

The film Main Meri Patni Aur Woh has some excellent songs, as does Hungama, but the former is actually a pretty solid film as well.

The fact that I can kind of half-speak French is annoying. I know enough to string together basic sentences but advanced speaking is hard. Also, understanding people who speak in French (i.e., native speakers) is difficult unless they slow down.

It’s annoying because, say I’m sitting in the subway or at the back of an Air Canada plane and people are speaking to each other in French, I can understand enough of it to pique my interest and keep my ears trained on the conversation and yet not enough for me to truly comprehend what’s being discussed.

I also remember several weeks ago, a girl came into the ASSU office to inquire about a French course and I gave her my card, saying, “Mon carte.”

“‘Ma carte’ you mean,” she corrected me.

I already had to grapple with my sleepy brain to come up with the French word for “card” in the first place and then ended up using a wrong term anyway.

It would be nice if I could consistently practice my French and keep a grasp on it. That won’t happen anytime soon though, watching French television, reading French comic books and listening to Francoise Hardy is no substitute for speaking French.

Before I left for New Jersey I managed to squeak out 13 comic strips. I’ve e-mailed the editor-in-chief of the Varsity, and am now awaiting a reply. I’m probably going to have to keep reminding him.

I spent a lot of time working on comics at the expense of working on two essays that are due immediately after the break, and I now have to spend all my time focussing on that. It wouldn’t be too bad if I werent going to Windsor for the Canadian University Science Games on January 11 (until the 14th).

It’ll be my first time in Windsor, and — with the exception of Peterborough and Collingwood (does driving through Barrie count?) — the only place outside of the GTA I’ve ever been in Canada.

Here’s to hoping Windsor doesn’t suck and that we actually win something.

Monday night, I went to see a preview showing of Syriana with a couple of friends.The Cinema Studies Students’ Union (CINSSU) was screening the sneak preview, for free, as it often does. The film kicked ass.

It’s a complex film with several characters; shot with two hand-held cameras, it’s so rich in detail it almost seems like a documentary (and it might as well be). It is an important film about America’s dealings in the Persian Gulf revolving around oil. It follows four main characters (they’re all men): a CIA agent shuttled between the Middle East and America (George Clooney), and energy analyst (Matt Damon) advising the would-be emir of an oil-rich nation, an attorney investigating the shady merger of two oil companies, and a Pakistani migrant-worker in an oil-rich nation who joins a madrassa. The jargon may be hard to follow for some, and many of the business dealings can leave people confused; but the message of the film comes through — without making any of the characters appear one-dimensional.

Again, it’s an important film, because people need to know how it is that they manage to get cheap oil and at least some of the reasons why leaders of oil-rich countries are almost invariably lackeys of American agendae.

Many people, after the film finished, expressed that they didn’t understand it. And I suppose that might have something to do with the complexity of the content or of the way the film was structured. In any case, I hope they use it as a starting point to learn more about the United States’ operations in other countries.

On Tuesday, after noon, as I was headed downtown on the subway and reading Thucydides, a man started asking loudly for change. You could tell he was kind of homeless; carrying a few things with him, wearing two dirty coats, dirty pants, dirty hair, dirty skin, and with an intoxicated manner. As no one responded to his appeal for change, he began to loudly castigate the general subway ridership for their self-alienation and isolation — refusing to interact with fellow human beings and living in their own worlds. I actually agreed with him on that point.

Finally, a lady got up, thrust some change into his hands and sat back down. He left his seat and went over to her to thank her, and managed to find a seat right beside her and sat down. Soon, she — disgusted — got up and walked to the other end of the car. He laughed and continued his banter.

As we approached Broadview station, he quipped that he came to Broadview to view broads. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, tall ones, short ones, “pencil necks,” and so on (to the general repulsion of those who had nothing better to do than to listen to him).

He related a short story about how he picked up some girl and in bed she started talking about a “ban-job” — short for a banana job.

Soon he went into a narrative about a whore he picked up from Dundas and Jarvis. He talked to her, knowing she had been in this business for some time, and asked her name. She said it was Cynthia. So he asked her who gave her that name, her father or her mother? She replied neither. Well then, he asked, who gave her that name? At which point she rolled over on the bed and bent over and vomited on the floor. She then said Satan, Satan (and he had a peculiar way of pronouncing Satan, “say-dun”) had given her her name. He laughed and asked her if she was a ritualistic type, a ritual girl. She said yes. So he asked her how many candles she lit in her room. And she said sixty-nine, sixty-nine candles and that “ain’t no sexual reference, neither.” Sixty-nine. Cynthia. End of story. Thank you for listening.

The train approached Sherbourne station and he got up, stating that he didn’t understand why people were unkind to him — he wasn’t a gangster, he was a “good fella.” The door opened, and he said:

Crimson mountain, golden sun,
Purple tree for everyone.

Good-bye!

As he bid his farewell, the door chimed and just as it closed he exited. It was like he had it perfectly timed.

I turned to the girl next to me and asked, “Did he say purple tree?”
She replied, “I have no idea.”

I went to Toys ‘R’ Us today and saw that they finally had the Sentinel Series‘ Spider-Man figure. So I bought it (naturally).

Here’s Spidey standing on my Landmark Thucydides text from POL323 (Thucydides, he’s the guy who wrote about the Peloponnesian War about 400-odd years B.C.).

As you can see, they tried to reproduce the characteristic webbing that Spidey has under his arms, as can be seen on the cover of Amazing Fantasy #15 (the first Spidey comic, which, by the way, the action figure is based on).

They got it down to some degree, but it’s basically achieved by throwing a whole net over Spidey’s back (which I haven’t pictured).

At any rate, it’s an improvement over the older Spidey figure they released that was ostensibly patterned on the same comics. Problems: the spider emblem on the chest is remarkably modern (started in the late eighties), and the webbing pattern on the mask isn’t drawn properly — in the more stylized Spidey that soon appeared, the webbing above the eyes splits into two and the webbing below the eyes emerges as one column; whereas in the first few Spidey comics the webbing splits in two columns above and below the eyes. In fact, that’s one of my pet peeves: when people draw Spidey, they completely mess up the webbing pattern on his face (if not everything else).

Otherwise, I’d say this older Spidey actually managed to capture the way Steve Ditko drew the eyes in most of the first comics until John Romita took over.

(Older Spidey)

I would’ve bought the Black Panther as well, but I don’t like the costume he’s wearing in this one (I prefer the pared down, non-cape, non-golden accessories version).

A few days ago, in Markville Mall I found this (unlicensed) Spidey toque, and I had to have it. So here it is, as modeled by me, standing in front of my Spider-Man calendar.

In other news, I called the iPod folks and they said they’d repair or replace my iPod. If they replace it, I’m going to get a case for it this time so it doesn’t scratch up every time it moves.

In a strange full circle type of thing I recently found out that pundit-blog Little Green Footballs found my old “This Is Islam” presentation and presented it to his readers. (Mustaqiim Sahir’s chest-slapping acapella isn’t accepted by many of the Salafis I know as legitimate. Boo hoo, LGF. Idiot.)

I’ve tried to distance myself and malcolm-x.org as far away from that presentation as possible. In a way I regret having made that Flash piece of crap. It’s chunky, has a crappy soundtrack, and many of my ideas about Islam have changed profoundly. Nevertheless it was made by a sincere 15/16-year old trying to present a different side of Islam than what’s usually found to Muslims and non-Muslims alike.

It gave me (or, at least, my name) an instant fifteen minutes of fame around the Muslim world as Muslims in remote places waited all night for their crappy Internet connections to load the whole thing and then forwarded it to their friends. Muslims around the world — the ones who probably looked upon the burning towers of 9/11 with a sense of poetic justice but later cried for the innocents — appreciated it.

What’s ludicrous is much of the putrid ignorance posted in the comments by the readers of LGF. There’s an automatic assumption that I’m an anti-Semite (why, because I implied that Ariel Sharon is a liar?), completely ignoring the fact (pointed out by a later commenter) that I picked out the bombings of pizzerias in Israel as terrorism, pointed to the bombing of planes by Palestinian militants as terrorism, that I picked a picture of an Arab man and Jewish man living together, etc.

The vicious ignorance of the commenters toward Muslims, painting them and the entire religion with the same brush, is as vitriolic as the ignorance of several Muslims toward Jews.

At this point, I’m not comfortable enough with Islam to make a presentation like that again. If I did, it would be quite nuanced and ambivalent about many of the things in Islam. I don’t think Islam should be simplified to slogans such as “Islam is peace” nor should Islam’s claims to promotion of peace be discounted immediately.

Just when you need to listen to Francoise Hardy on your way home, your iPod’s battery is fucking up.

From today’s (or, well, yesterday’s) POL320 lecture: Professor Carens.