Friday, June 10, 2005

peek a taboo...

‘boss’… my team couldn’t guess ‘boss’!!… true, it comprised of sheeda, saed and fasih but still when someone says, ‘head of a mafia family… ’ you expect a ‘boss’ in the least. Be as it may, after the scores had been tabulated and the malik sisters were snickering over their congenital powers of telepathy I realized that people didn’t give two farts in space for the mafia… egad! what a dreadful thought… enter little foot (aka azam noon aka azam butt [only to horse] )…allow me to educate your mind…

Button men/Wise Guys and Connected Guys
These are the lowest in the hierarchy, lowest in the proverbial ‘layer cake’. Simply put, they do all the dirty work. Their jobs consist of mere intimidation of those that pose any sort of threat to the family, collection of fazools (money in mafia lingo) from debtors and doing what so ever their designated ‘made guy’ demands from them. They are disallowed any initiative of their own. However, everyone has to make a living and most of them, on the sly, hijack the odd truck full of suits, DVD players even pokemon cards depending on whatever is in demand. Most wise guys are struggling to make an impression on captains and made guys and consider it no less than an honor to make the acquaintance of the boss. Connected guys have a little more, how you say, muscle. Whenever a hit has to be made, i.e. somebody has to get whacked, they get the call.
Before I move on, I must quote Al pacino... from Donny Brasco
‘friend of mine means connected guy’
‘friend of ours means made guy’…
kapeesh?

Made guys.
The Mafia Bias
(by law 1)
- Only pure blue blooded Sicilians can become captains. If your nationality is found dissatisfactory the highest rank you can reach is ‘made’… Made guys have crews of their own. Crews that comprise of the people described above. They run a business or some other venture that has been handed to them. Their being promoted to captain depends on how profitable their business is. They have decent lifestyles. They report directly to and have to forward a fixed amount to their captain, regardless of the earnings. If there are any shortfalls the made guy has to make up by imaginative ways of fund generation, such as robbing at gun point, kidnapping and holding for ransom, or simply steal from a social welfare fund. (who said these were nice guys, hain?). Getting made is a huge step towards being upped to captain and there is a formal ceremony where you take the following oath…(in the Corleone family)
‘May I burn in hell, if I betray my family…’

Captains/Skippers (aka capitane)
Captains are extremely close to the boss. The boss is the only individual that can promote anyone to the rank of captain. Skippers, don’t do the dirty work. They merely give orders to the ‘made guys’. These individuals are very well off and finally begin to reap the benefits of several years of loyalty and hard work. The have the authority to give relatively important orders on their own, but this is merely due to the fact that they have shown presence of mind on various occasions in the past and are close, trusted allies of the boss.

Boss.
The boss, in so many words is the boss. The absolute, he has veto power and is the ultimate authority on all matters of the mafioso. He (saed, fasih, sheeday, you listening?) is the head of the family.

p.s. there is no restriction of whacking jobs to connected guys, anyone can be asked to clip someone as a sign of fidelity and loyalty. Sentiments also come into play. Also, a lot of emphasis is given to the disposal of dead bodies. Therefore, most pallbearers and gravediggers are on the payrolls of the mafia.

I leave you with a dialogue between Tony Soprano and his psychiatrist. Tony’s nephew had been shot and has a dream he’s going to hell.

Dr. Melphy: Do you think he’ll go to hell?
Tony: No. Hes not the type that deserves hell.
Dr. Melphy: Who do you think does?
Tony: The worst people. The twisted and demented psychos who kill people for pleasure. The cannibals, the degenerate bastards that molest and torture little kids and kill babies. The Hitlers, the Paul Pox. Those are the evil !@#s that deserve to die.
Dr. Melphy: What about you?
Tony: Hell? You been listening to me? No. For the same reasons. Were soldiers. Soldiers don’t go to hell. It’s a war. Soldiers they kill other soldiers. Were in a situation where everybody involved knows the stakes and if youre going to accept those stakes you gotta do certain things. Its business… were soldiers… we follow codes and orders.


I hope this post of mine, boring as it was assisted you in realizing how important that ‘boss’ was to me… o well…
In other news today, I was made vice president of the first ever LUMS mathematics society. Jamal says if I make it to the mafia now, I can stab my victims with a compass.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

halos and horns...

"...you have to be really cold hearted to do something like that, but if you are, theres no feeling like it..."
i wanted to take him apart... as simple as that... the gators had surfaced...
he wasn't a name or a face or a person, he had no past and definitely no future as far i was concerned... he was merely gray track pants and a red shirt... and as such the focus of my rage... reasons, trivial or otherwise, become irrelevant when emotions come into play, and this afternoon they had... out of sheer respect for those that read this i will refrain from sharing those emotions...
when i felt that surge the only thing that prevented me from dislocating his knee or dislocating his ankle or dislocating anything that could be dislocated was that he kept the hell away from me... he saw it in my eyes... i was out to get him... and i would have, without a second thought, i would have broken his leg with a purposely mistimed blast... it would have seemed an accident... conscience isnt even a prop in this act...
bigger and better things... im feeling subdued now... im reflecting on the days proceedings... its 3 am... this is my reflecting time... somewhere pastries have gone sour... somewhere bread is growing yeast... and one castle comes tumbling down... nandos, the setting... thankful for those still floating... realisation setting in... 'still running over the same old grounds... what have i found... the same old fears...'
and i leave you with the jist of a song ive heard only recently...
stop acting so innocent... your halos going to come down over your neck and choke you...
still im more than a little bit curious how you plan to go about making your amends...
cast your demons out... and for the first and last time just look me in the eye and tell me...
how is this going to end?

safe...