I consider the joy of “the people of Iran” at the election of the old beardly dude who suddenly became a reformist a few days ago bittersweet. There is no word for bittersweet in farsi, so I could just say it’s sad. Also ironic.
But those people who I am despising right now are those clueless, privileged expat motherfuckers who are going round cursing and insulting “the people of Iran” for their joy. You know, those hyphenated Iranians who keep saying “our people are sheep! Why are they so happy! May there be dirt on their heads! What do they think this fat old cleric will do for them! Don’t they understand blah blah blah blah”
I am clueless too, and I am privileged. As far as I can tell, what is bothering most of “the people of Iran” is the lack of decent internet access. But how dare we, sitting in the comfort and security of our non-Iranian living rooms, criticize people of our country for doing what they can, and for being happy that they have done so? What, do we want them to rush out in the streets and topple the mullah regime so we can go back and have our internet and alcohol and free hair and families in freedom and peace- do we expect them to rush out and get beaten up and bruised and bloody and make a revolution, just so we could clap and say good job, protesting Iranians! go and fight the clerics and their baton-wielding minions! And we will wear a green bracelet over here, to show our support for you!
Do you think, expat motherfuckers, that “the people of Iran” don’t know the new president’s credentials as well as you? Believe me, they do. Good for them for partying in the streets, good for them for their show of happiness. And you, you just shut up, pay your taxes, and wonder when your mother’s sponsorship application will fall through.