曾向美国前总统布什扔鞋抗议的巴格达电视台记者蒙塔兹·扎伊迪日前获释，出狱时受英雄般的礼遇，出狱后数小时后的发布会伊始，扎伊迪便发表了这篇言论，个人觉得很不错，而且还对其萌生了敬意！特此转载！
我为什么而扔鞋
我自由了。但我的国家仍在战火中煎熬。很多人都在谈论那件事和做了事的那个人，英雄和他的英雄壮举，标志和那个标志性的事件。但我只回答说：促使我行动的是我的人民遭遇的不公，是因为占领军要将我的家乡踏于脚下，任其凌辱。
过去几年中，超过一百万殉道者倒在占领军的子弹之下，而在伊拉克全境，现在有超过五百万孤儿嗷嗷待哺，一百万寡妇无依无靠，还有几十万伤残者在忍受病痛的折磨，数百万伊拉克人或无家可归，或流亡海外。
我的祖国曾是这样一个国家，在这里阿拉伯人可以和土库曼人、库尔德人、亚述人、塞巴人和亚齐德人一起分享他每日的食粮；在这里，什叶派可以和逊尼派一起祈祷；在这里，穆斯林可以和基督教徒一起庆祝圣诞节。即便我们在十年多的经济制裁中一起忍饥挨饿，我们也能这样。
我们的忍耐和团结并没有让我们忘记我们受到的压迫。但侵略让兄弟反目，让邻里成仇。侵略者把我们家园变成了丧棚。
我不是一个英雄。但我有我的观点，我有我的立场。我不忍看到我的国家受人凌辱，看到我的巴格达化为灰烬，看到我的人民惨遭屠杀。千百幅悲惨的画面在我脑海中萦绕，它们使我奋起反抗。阿布格莱布监狱的虐囚丑闻。在费卢杰、纳杰夫、哈迪塞、萨德尔、巴士拉、迪亚拉、摩苏尔、塔拉法乃至我伤痕累累的祖国每一寸领土上发生的屠杀。走过我化为焦土的国家，我亲眼见到受害者的痛苦、亲耳听到失去母亲的孤儿和失去孩子的母亲痛苦的哀号。耻辱像恶毒的诅咒挥之不去，因为我对这一切无能为力。
每当我结束了家常便饭一般的惨剧报道，当我洗去身上伊拉克被毁民房的碎片，或者衣服上的斑斑血迹，我总会咬紧牙，向我受难的同胞们发誓。我发誓为他们报仇。
机会来了，我抓住了它。
我抓住它是为了在入侵者占领中流下的每一滴无辜者的鲜血，是为了痛失爱子的母亲每一声悲鸣，是为了孤儿的每一声呻吟，是为了被侵犯者的痛苦，是为了失去父母的孩子的眼泪。
对那些指责我的人我要说：你知道我扔出去的那只鞋子曾走进过多少变成瓦砾的民房？它曾多少次踏过无辜受害者的鲜血？也许当一切价值都受到侵犯的时候，那只鞋才是最恰当的回应。
我向布什那个罪人扔鞋子，是为了抗议他的谎言，抗议他占领我的国家，抗议他杀戮我的同胞，抗议他掠夺我祖国的财富，毁坏我祖国的设施，还将世代生活在这里的人民驱离故土。
我虽然亵渎了新闻业，但非我本意。我对自己的行为给记者这项职业带来的难堪表示歉意。我只是想表达一个每天眼见自己祖国遭受蹂躏的伊拉克人内心的感受，以求问心无愧。那些受到占领军好处的人对我职业精神的质疑不应该压过爱国的呼声。而且如果一个人要表达自己爱国的情感，那么他的职业应该和他对祖国的爱站在一起。
我既不为青史留名，也不为锦衣玉食。我只是想保卫我的国家。
Why I threw the
shoe
I am free. But my country is still a prisoner of
war. There has been a lot of talk about the action and about the
person who took it, and about the hero and the heroic act, and the
symbol and the symbolic act. But, simply, I answer: what compelled
me to act is the injustice that befell my people, and how the
occupation wanted to humiliate my homeland by putting it under its
boot.
Over recent years, more than a million martyrs
have fallen by the bullets of the occupation and Iraq is now filled
with more than five million orphans, a million widows and hundreds
of thousands of maimed. Many millions are homeless inside and
outside the country.
We used to be a nation in which the Arab
would share with the Turkman and the Kurd and the Assyrian and the
Sabean and the Yazid his daily bread. And the Shia would pray with
the Sunni in one line. And the Muslim would celebrate with the
Christian the birthday of Christ. This despite the fact that we
shared hunger under sanctions for more than a decade.
Our patience and our solidarity did not make us
forget the oppression. But the invasion divided brother from
brother, neighbour from neighbour. It turned our homes into funeral
tents.
I am not a hero. But I have a point of view. I
have a stance. It humiliated me to see my country humiliated; and
to see my Baghdad burned, my people killed. Thousands of tragic
pictures remained in my head, pushing me towards the path of
confrontation. The scandal of Abu Ghraib. The massacre of Falluja,
Najaf, Haditha, Sadr City, Basra, Diyala, Mosul, Tal Afar, and
every inch of our wounded land. I travelled through my burning land
and saw with my own eyes the pain of the victims, and heard with my
own ears the screams of the orphans and the bereaved. And a feeling
of shame haunted me like an ugly name because I was
powerless.
As soon as I finished my professional duties in
reporting the daily tragedies, while I washed away the remains of
the debris of the ruined Iraqi houses, or the blood that stained my
clothes, I would clench my teeth and make a pledge to our victims,
a pledge of vengeance.
The opportunity came, and I took it.
I took it out of loyalty to every drop of
innocent blood that has been shed through the occupation or because
of it, every scream of a bereaved mother, every moan of an orphan,
the sorrow of a rape victim, the teardrop of an orphan.
I say to those who reproach me: do you know how
many broken homes that shoe which I threw had entered? How many
times it had trodden over the blood of innocent victims? Maybe that
shoe was the appropriate response when all values were
violated.
When I threw the shoe in the face of the
criminal, George Bush, I wanted to express my rejection of his
lies, his occupation of my country, my rejection of his killing my
people. My rejection of his plundering the wealth of my country,
and destroying its infrastructure. And casting out its sons into a
diaspora.
If I have wronged journalism without intention,
because of the professional embarrassment I caused the
establishment, I apologise. All that I meant to do was express with
a living conscience the feelings of a citizen who sees his homeland
desecrated every day. The professionalism mourned by some under the
auspices of the occupation should not have a voice louder than the
voice of patriotism. And if patriotism needs to speak out, then
professionalism should be allied with it.
I didn't do this so my name would enter history
or for material gains. All I wanted was to defend my
country.
，高兴地上班，下楼的时候，睡眼惺忪，穿着可爱的百丽，结果……走到4楼时候，刚走了3阶，没站稳，脚已经不受大脑控制，连跑带跳的完成了剩下的阶梯（PS：我们的楼层很高，一层有15阶梯）最后还是没能安全着陆，爬到在地，两个膝盖的筋骨受伤，膝盖发青，以至于接下来的一段时候内，我欣赏到了美丽的颜色变化，青紫黑紫红红……同时，肘子的皮也破了！人小时候摔了也不知道疼，还常常被安慰说“摔了长得快”，结果人长大了，也就不经摔了，一摔就疼！
，蛋糕巨丑无比，想念面包物语、想念安德鲁森，嘎嘎~~~~~
”
于是，我终于在众人的反抗中休息了！打针
吃药睡觉
。还记得有一次，他要去楼下买冰激凌，刚洗完脸的我想抹些东西，于是催促他到楼下买冰激凌，他很听话的准备出去，可是脚还没迈出门他又调头回来了。这聪明的家伙嗅出了我的意图，于是把我所有的护肤品装进购物袋——没收，更绝的是，他就提着装满护肤品的购物袋到楼下买冰激凌，走之前得意地说“你这坏妞，看你用什么抹，哇哈哈哈
