Minister Of Culture

A pretty bride of India is burned with kerosene her husband keeps her

dowry and his freedom is achieved, a burnese girl in Bangkok is of value

for her skin, solid for her complexiion, never saw her home again. The

minister of culture, he argues so well, his teeth are flashing as he

details, a legacy of murder, a heritage of rape, a time honored

tradition to maim and mutilate. Cut away her labia with dirty broken

glass, she died of obstruction prainfully infected mass, a dress code

violation is an outrage in Iran, splashed her face with acid only them

the fun began. She wasn't good enough, a female child left face down

packed in the snow, umbilical cord around her tiny feet, she suffers and

dies alone. A woman in a western home is under house arrest, a drunkard

is her jailer he's entitled to molest, her daughter is passed over when

she tries to raise her hand, the likeliness of her success is not an

even chance. The minister of culture, he's wringing his hands, he keeps

on laughing as he demands- "No human right applies her, our women will

agree, our property has spoken no cause to intervine."