Category: Journal

I got the following email this morning:

ismillâhi-r-Rahmâni-r-Rahîm,
Al-Hamdulillâhi Was-Salâtu Was-Salâmu ‘Alâ Rasûlillâh, Wa Ba’d,
As-Salâmu ‘Alaikum Wa Rahmatullâhi Wa Barakâtuh,

Wasalaam to you,and how are you doing?. My intention of contacting you is to solicit your assistance for a project, which will be mutually beneficial. Though I know my decision to contact you is to a large extent unconventional, the prevailing circumstances necessitated my action. I am Haleema Hamza from Libya. I am married to Late Mallam Mustafa Hamza of blessed memory was an oil explorer in Libya and Kuwait for twelve years before he died in the year 2000. We were married for twelve years without a child. He died after a brief illness that lasted for only four days. Before his death we were both devoted Muslims. Since his death I too have been battling with both Cancer and fibroid problems. When my late Husband was alive he made a huge deposit in millions of US dollars with a Deposit Company in oversea. (I will tell you the amount as we proceed).

…

I shall give you the contact information of the Deposit Company in oversea where the money was
deposited. I will also issue a letter of authority to the Deposit Company authorizing them that the said fund Have being willed to you and a copy of such authorization will be forwarded to you.

I want you and the Muslim community where you reside to always pray for me. My happiness is that I lived a true devoted Muslims worthy of emulation. Whoever that wants to serve ALLAH must serve him in truth and in fairness. I will not stipulate any precise amount to reward you, as it will have to be on pre-negotiated terms, based on your level of involvement. Please always be prayerful all through your life. Any delay in your reply will give room in sourcing for a Muslim organization or a
devoted Muslim for this same purpose. Until I hear from you by email, my dreams will rest squarely on your Shoulders.

Unfortunately, I am not a Muslim, so I wouldn’t feel right about accepting such a large sum from such a nice-sounding lady on less than above-board terms. I did try to reply to her:

عزيزيه سيده همزة

انا مصيحي, و لا اريد اموالك

و لاكن سأصلي من اجلك

نع تحيتي

كوردن تيشر

But it seems that her email address isn’t valid. Which would seem to defeat both the purported and the real purpose of the whole thing.

Wikipedia says that King Juan Carlos I of Spain not only claims the title King of Jerusalem (although several others, including Victor Emmanuel of Italy and Otto von Hapsburg could also make the same claim), but could claim the title Emperor of the Romans, the last Paleologos pretender having given the title to Ferdinand II.

Of course, the Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II claimed the title Ceasar of Rome when he conquered Constantinople. Given that the list of recognized monarchs of any given kingdom has as many successions by force as by birth, I suppose we should arrange a cage match between Juan Carlos and His Imperial Highness Prince Sultan ErtuÄŸrul Osman V, the current Ottoman pretender. Juan Carlos has the advantage of actually ruling a kingdom, although he voluntary gave up most of his power when he gained the throne.

We’ve been having unseasonably cold weather (for Vancouver, ha ha) lately. It has actually been snowing off and on for the past couple of days.

This only affects me in that whenever Vancouverites see a millimetre of snow on the ground the smart ones abandon all hope of driving to work (because the dumb ones are out playing bumper-cars in the streets), thus vastly increasing the congestion on the commuter trains.

Where’s Al Gore when you need him?

Yesterday on my way to the commuter train I was accosted by a gentleman dressed in unworn sneakers, jeans and Mountain Equipment Co-Op rain jacket. He was clean-shaven and didn’t smell. He was towing an airline carry-on bag, again without any visible sign of wear and tear.

“Do you have any change you could spare?” he asked. I could hardly suppress the look of contempt on my face as I turned my back on him.

This is probably not a good Christian attitude toward the poor. But I happened to spend the first seventeen years of my life in Liberia and Côte d’Ivoire, in West Africa. So from what I saw — but thankfully didn’t experience — I don’t think there are any poor people in all of North America.

Continue reading “Being Poor”