Since his early childhood years, Isa did become a miracle – a miracle of an outstanding stupidity and stupendous parenting gone horribly wrong. Most toddlers have occasional tantrums, but Isa was an exceptionally talented drama queen, a spoiled brat whose frequent defiance against his parent’s wishes were well worth an Oscar. Isa’s mother, Nona and father, Ati struggled with their resilient child. Throughout the first three months of his attendance in the nursery, Isa’s face was moisturised by beads of tears flowing out of his brown eyes. Every morning he pleaded with his mother not to leave him at the nursery. Then, one morning, as Nona handed a tiny grey rucksack to Isa’s teacher standing on the other side of the nursery’s entrance door, Isa firmly clenched her feet. Nona tried to explain to Isa that every child hates their kindergarten in the first days, but later will hate leaving it.  “You are in the good hands of Miss Mesuese. The two of you will get on fine.”

“But, we won’t!” Alexander complained. “She’s constantly telling me what to do as if I’m one of her toys.”

“That is a cruel observation, Isa!” Nona replied firmly.“ You should apologise, right now!”

“You see! That’s exactly what she does to me, all the time.” Alexander confessed. “She constantly tells me what to do, as if she is my mother.”

Miss Mesuese was looking at him with a compassionate smile, clinching on his grey bag with her right hand. Nona stood up, and as she was about to leave, she apologised to the teacher. Nona held out her hands and bent over to forcefully engulf Isa’s tiny body into her arms. Alexander resisted and pushed her with his small grubby hands, looking down. Miss Mesuese tapped Nona’s left shoulder. After straightening her body, Nona left the entrance lobby and walked towards Ati, her husband waiting for her in his car. Nona stepped inside the car and closed the passenger door without saying a word.

After noticing Nona’s frowning face, Ati tried to reason with her.  “Don’t you stress yourself over this, Nona!”

 “But, I do not want to see him traumatised,” Nona confessed.

“Unless you are contemplating Isa’s premature death, there’s no escape from seeing him traumatised,” Ati concluded, and then laughed. “After all, he will eventually get married one day!”

A week later, Isa immersed himself into massacring strawberries at his nursery. Isa’s face was smeared with red juice as if he didn’t realise that fruits are for eating and not for face painting. Isa grabbed the empty plastic bowl and walked towards his teacher. Once he got within arms’ reach for her teacher, he pulled her red leather skirt.

The teacher turned around and asked.  “What’s the matter, Alex?”

“Could I have some more?” Alexander asked, lifting up his yellow bowl.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Abracadabra!” Alexander replied.

What a fucking loser! I’m not making this shit up. He really said it. 

The teacher laughed embarrassingly, covering her mouth with her long-slim fingers and tipped her head to the right. After she calmed down, she bowed towards Alexander. She stretched out her left index finger, holding it upwards and swinging it like a metronome pendulum.

“Did I say something wrong?” Alexander asked, glancing up at his teacher and seeking some guidance.

“No!” the teacher replied instantly, and after a brief hesitation, she added. “Your reply is ludicrously flawless, but that’s not the magic word I was looking for!”

“Hocus Pocus?” Alexander took another wild guess.

The teacher laughed again before replying.  “Wrong again! It’s more like Hocus Pleasus!”

Global education platform, my arse! This kid doesn’t even know the difference between the magic word for tricking others and for attaining something. Yet, miraculously, the future of mankind depends on him. Oddly enough, the nursery was called Bright Kids Nursery.


Ati wiped his narrow lips with a napkin. He extracted a Maduro cigar out of his corded jacket’s inner pocket and set it burning with a match. He inhaled two puffs, unleashing a dense white smoke covered his face and with his eyebrows raised, glanced up towards Alexander’s curious look, and replied, “Yes, that’s true!”

He spoke in a low, flat voice, looking down at the fluid red liquid as he spun the wine glass clockwise once in a while. After grabbing a sizeable ceramic ashtray, in which he dropped the matchstick, Ati headed for the patio doors, opened them and looked up at the stars.

“Dad, will Lokin’s father be free soon?” Alexander asked.

“I don’t know, Alexander. Most probably, he will be sent home. Lokin is a good kid, and he deserves to grow up with his father by his side.” Ati replied, after turning around with a seamlessly grave face.

“But surely a declaration of love for someone can’t be a criminal offence, Dad. Lokin’s father didn’t hurt or offend anyone else by declaring his affection for God!” Alexander objected as he raised his head, revealing his wide chestnut eyes that radiated scrupulous alertness.

“You’re right, my son. But to maintain unity and brotherhood among mankind, Communism didn’t permit any divisions among its constituents. Communism scorned God’s existence and banned people from practising their religions,” Ati replied.

His mother promptly interjected, reminding Alexander that his steak was getting cold, and then continued. “Your dad is very fond of Communism and is well-positioned under the regime. He’s a well-respected judge, earns a decent salary, and enjoys many privileges. So, his affection for Communism shouldn’t surprise you.”

“Alex, your mum is right. Eat your food while it’s warm,” Ati agreed, drinking up the wine leftovers in his glass. “But, you should never forget that communism provided free education for every human being, liberated women from the suppressive religious indoctrination, and ended the prominent hypocrisy of the individual land ownership.”

“Why is land ownership, such hypocrisy?” Nona blasted.

Ati collapsed in laughter and could not cease giggling for a while.

“Please, stop laughing and answer my question!” Nona broke out savagely. 

After he managed to calm down himself and clear out his throat, Ati replied, turning towards Alexander, “Your mother is fortunate to not have married a fellow Muslim husband, who wouldn’t hesitate to turn her into a ninja, by placing a niqab over her head, because their God demands it!”

A thinly sliced potato chunk disappeared into Isa’s mouth before asking his father. “What’s the harm in believing in God?”

Ati stepped into the porch and left his cigars outside on top of the ceramic ashtray. He sat in his chair and dipped another piece of his steak into a yellow sauce. His face produced a smile of superiority visible on the muscles of his cheeks as he replied. “What matters to God is whether humankind obeys Its commandments. And though your mother might disagree with me, until Communism emerged, humans failed to fulfil God’s commandments.”

“Alex, don’t listen to your dad,” Nona intruded, adding. “This is nonsense.”

Ati reacted quickly. “Unlike any other system, Communism remained truthful to the Holy Scriptures. Communists delivered Christianity without God, whereas Capitalists delivered a God without Christianity.”

“Come on, Ati! That’s not true, and you know it,” Nona replied sharply.

Ati ceased nibbling the beef for a while and riveted an astounding stare with lifted eyebrows on Nona, expressing his discord. “But it is true, Nona. Capitalism allowed Christian believers to practice their religious rituals, but not Christianity! Communism was the only system that was coherent with the laws of Moses. For example, God forbade land ownership in perpetuity, did It not?”

“Yes, It did!” she confirmed, her voice slithering down a notch as though she were conversing with herself.

“Did the God-worshipping countries forbid the eternal ownership of land?” Ati continued his crucifixion.

Unwilling to accept Ati’s emphatic opinion, Nona sank back at her chair and replied reluctantly by lowering her head. 

“You see, they didn’t. It was the God-denying Communists who put an end to the everlasting ownership of land. Didn’t God forbid giving out loans with interest?” Ati asked again.

Instead of replying, Nona retreated into herself. She mutely pierced the roast potato on her plate with her fork and cut it into four pieces before sprinkling salt onto them. 

“Did the God-worshipping countries prohibit loans with interest? No, they did not! It was the Communist countries that created national banks, and instead of subjecting its citizens to interest rates, the banks charged only administrative costs!” Ati cried out, taking a handsome swig of his wine. “You see, my dear wife, Communism was the only political system which put God’s laws into practice.”

“Alright, Ati,” Nona added in a faltering, childlike voice. Her half-hearted tone indicated that she wasn’t eager to engage further into the discussion, if Ati would demand an epitome to her earlier argument. “I admit that there might have been just a couple of God’s instructions that were accomplished by the Communist syst—”

“Just a couple?” Ati interrupted sternly with unhesitating assurance. “Did you forget the one whereby God demanded that the king shall not acquire an excessive quantity of gold and silver? Unlike the current world leaders in the God-welcoming democratic countries, who became enormously wealthy, Communist leaders did not attain extreme wealth.” 

“That might be true, but Communist leaders enjoyed many privileges,” Nona objected firmly, as she leaned back, flashing a defiant glance at her husband.

“Yes, that’s true, but they did not have millions stocked in their safes or in foreign banks. After they died, no wealth was passed on to their families. You see, Alex, the Communists were the only ones who fulfilled the laws of God and produced a system devoted to Its commandments.”

Nona observed her son timidly, refraining from engaging further. Ati angled his face towards Alexander’s and blasted out with full confidence. “In fact, Karl Marx was the Messiah who was promised by the Holy Scriptures.” 

“Hahahahahaha!” Nona erupted into a fit of laughter, holding her ribs with her hands. “I have always loved your sense of humour!”

“What is so funny?” Ati asked.

“How can you claim that he was the Messiah when he denied God’s existence and rejected religions?” Nona interrogated, still laughing.

“The Holy Scriptures foresaw that the Messiah would bring new laws and unite the people, something that Marx ultimately achieved. He produced new laws and unified many different nations and races around the world, beyond territorial borders,” Ati replied before unleashing another question. “Who else has achieved this in the past?” 

“But you still haven’t answered my question,” Nona persisted.

“The Messiah’s task was to unite humankind, right? Do you honestly believe that the Messiah would be able to deliver the global brotherhood if all these different religions and sects continued to exist?” Ati pursued his discourse.

“Dad, what is a Messiah?” Alex asked, in a puzzled, lost way.

“The Messiah allegedly is the one anointed by God to bring peace to the world and end all wars. According to many religious scholars, he would be sent to Earth and would implement the laws of Moses. It was the God-denying Marx who brought the laws of Moses into practice by ending land ownership in perpetuity, interest on financial loans, and creation of wealthy leaders. Not the God-worshipping capitalists in the US.” Ati replied, pouring himself more wine before passionately persisting with his rhetoric. 

 “Ah, I knew it. There you go again with the USA, a place whereby people enjoy the highest level of democracy and freedom. It is the richest and most developed country in the world.” Nona objected in a breathless voice.



A week after this disastrous initiative was unveiled in New York, a committed blonde Euronews reporter travelled to different capitals of the world across five continents. She chased and harassed random people to establish whether there is a global consensus on the UN Convention on the Secret of the Divine Civilisation. She had this annoying habit of walking behind them, passing them over, and then abruptly swinging around to thrust the mike towards them, scaring the hell out of them!

In Dusseldorf a young chap, wearing a shiny grey suit over a striped tie, holding a coffee cup on his right hand and a pink newspaper on the left one replied, “Come on, man – you must be out of your mind! That convention is a piece of shit,” he paused to look around and added. “Look, humans are humans, and they have enormous talent in screwing things. Hitler also promised great things, and we all know how it turned out in the end.”

A grey-bearded man replied, standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

“Being French, this convention of unifying the world will not change much. Europeans are already united!”

In Cairo, an older woman with a scarf over her head answered.  “ I am 68 years old and will not live long enough to see it through.”

A young female in Madrid replied.  “It’s a splendid initiative, and I hope that it gets adopted because anything is better than a nuclear war!”

A fruit seller in a Dubai market exclaimed.  “There are different human races throughout the world. I look different from you. Allah, the Merciful One wanted us to be different and live differently. If the Merciful One would have wanted us to live in the same way, all united, he would have made us identical to one another.”

A taxi driver in New York reacted.  “Come on, man. The world is a cruel place because humans made it so. And you expect another human to fix it? Forget it, man!”

An electronics shopkeeper in Lagos objected.  “What is there to think about? It will never happen because our corrupt leaders will never endorse it. Don’t you read newspapers? Officially they all state that although they’re committed to doing everything it takes to establish peace, they claim that the proposed strategy is nothing more than a utopia.”

At Rio sandy beach, a slender and suntanned female in an orange bikini reflected.

“It would be wonderful if it accomplishes its objective. However, I doubt that it will because that’s just the way the world works.”

Standing in the Piazza del Plebiscito in Naples, next to ten rows of sunglasses hanging on a metallic wire mesh, a chubby young man laughed uncontrollably, shaking his tits off and spraying dandruff over his black shirt. He took something like seven seconds or more to calm down, before he spoke out with his elongated Italian accent, throwing his hands in the air.

“Seriously! Are you actually getting paid for asking such silly questions? Out of respect, I’ll just forget that you asked me this stupid question and pretend that you asked me something meaningful, like; if I would like to go out with you tonight, or how much a pair of these lovely sunglasses cost?”

An older man sitting on a park bench in Beijing replied.  “First, we had communism, and now my country is gradually being dragged into capitalism, messing up my generation, which is lost in this process. I am delighted that I won’t live long enough to experience another one of these atrocious transitions.”

While the delegates of the forthcoming UNESCO General Conference assembled to decide how to proceed with the proposed convention, around ninety thousand people thronged to rally their support for the Convention of The Secret of Divine Civilisation. The Place de Fontenoy opposite the UNESCO headquarters in Paris was packed with big banners with various inscriptions, such as.  “Let’s give truth a chance”.  “We are one”.  “Les Nations Unies – UNIR!” and “Say yes to change!”




Nolan Jazimreg Reveals Proof of God's Existence and Brexit Tax Avoidance Scam

Nolan Jazimreg is a London-based author of “The Inconvenient Truth”, a highly controversial dystopian novel, which reveals profound insights into how hatred infiltrates us and oppresses our adeptness to live a contented life by revealing the existential proof of God, heaven or hell.

Having undergone an unconventional life journey, Nolan Jazimreg developed a bipolar condition, experiencing setbacks that transcended him into a parallel spiritual realm.

His ability to see beyond the “veil”, enabled Jazimreg to initially comprehend the tax-avoidance scam that is driving the UK out of the EU and expose it to over 300,000 people who read his insights on the mass deception behind Brexit!

Similar to the content featured on this blog, Jazimreg hopes that his lousy and bold writing style, featured in his novels, will enlighten its readers with exciting insights on human nature, God, heaven and hell!

Therefore, if you happen to know a daring publisher who is concerned about the grim days that lie ahead and still believes that books can change our world, please don’t hesitate to forward to them the following link, which features the first chapter of Nolan Jazimreg’s “The Inconvenient Truth”:




I remember watching this scene with my father on the BBC News, while waiting for our takeaway pizzas to arrive. I was eighteen at the time and very annoyed by the Iranian President’s hoarse voice. Who knows how many cigarettes he invested to produce such an irritating voice. Listening to mad crowds chanting Save Iran, Save the World! isn’t exactly something one looks forward to hearing on a dull rainy Sunday, a day in which people are supposed to relax.

I was trying to work out if what I thought just happened has actually happened, so I asked my father.

“Is there going to be another war?”

“Don’t you have anything smarter to do than to ask me something so silly?” Dad replied with an undeterred confidence, as he faded out the voice from the TV screen nagging at his ears.

“But, this mean guy looks like he means it!”

“What do you know about people meaning what they say?” He asked with a light, reassuring smile.

“Well, for starters he was sweating and shouting like a madman, I mean this guy needs professional help.”

“Politicians nowadays follow animal laws! Just like a pack of stray dogs select the loudest and strongest as the leader of their pack, people also vote the loudest and the one that appears the fiercest! He’s just barking to win over the hearts of his people, and you shouldn’t worry much about it!” He concluded before resuming to scribble over his crossword.

However, neither the conflicting sides nor the anti-war protesters across London, Paris, and New York concurred with my Dad’s calm assessment of the Iran situation. To protect the oil wells of Saudi Arabia and Qatar from a possible attack by Iran, the US and the UK sent out 32 battleships in the Persian Gulf and stationed them along its southern coastline. Although the barking of the Iranian President burned no oil wells, it flamed up the price of oil! Everyone was rushing to buy and stock oil. Within four weeks, the value of the US$ rose by fifteen per cent! Following extensive and heated debates in Vienna, OPEC increased the oil output by thirty per cent, and US$ gradually deflated to its value before the infamous speech at the Azadi Square. Although crammed by biggest battleships on earth, the situation in the Persian Gulf remained relatively calm. Then, some Iranians, who probably watched too many Hollywood action films, attempted to kidnap the personnel of the US Embassy. They failed to complete their mission impossible, because Iran’s Republican Guard intervened, wounded five, and arrested the other nine, who later on, ended up being prosecuted for being American spies.

Another US attempt to endorse a new UN Security Council resolution on Iran failed because China and Russia again declined to attend another UN Security Council meeting. The Russian President issued a brief statement, saying. “The world leaders will soon gather at the UN General Assembly session in New York. Only after the voices of all nations are heard, we’ll meet at the UN Security Council and decide on future steps to resolve the Iran crisis. In the meantime, I urge Iran and the US to refrain from action that could threaten world peace!”

Following this statement, the verbal war drums echoing from Washington and Tehran got their well-earned break. It didn’t last long, though! Heated debates ensued at the next UN General Assembly session. Once the Iranian President tortured the mikes at the General Assembly with his hoarse voice, lamenting the end of the world as the only defensive means against the US aggression! According to him, neither the US nor the world population has done enough to demonstrate their support for Iran’s holy right to decide over its fate.

For fuck’s sake! This guy must be allergic to microphones or cameras, triggering a severe brain malfunctioning. How does this guy expect to gain the hearts of the world population, while threatening them, he will deliver apocalyptic climate disaster, if the world didn’t comply with demands? I’ve come across many morons in my lifetime, but this guy probably pushes in the top three.

Onto the next contestant for the Moron of the Year Award – the Russian President. He spoke at length about the cold war, revealing his comprehension about the crucial moment that secured the peace deal between Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev at the Reykjavík Summit in 1985, but in a rather angry tone.

“Both of them were able to put aside their egos and differences so that we could enjoy a peaceful world. The current US/Iran crisis isn’t about their nuclear capacity! No, my honourable delegates! This crisis is instigated by the world’s largest natural gas reserves, located in the Persian Gulf, which Iran refuses to trade in US$! President Nixon is responsible for the current crisis in Iran because it was he who decided to end the backing of US$ with the Federal gold reserves. To prevent deflation of its currency, the White House forced oil producers to trade their oil exclusively in US$!” At this point, the US delegation stood up and left the General Assembly Hall, followed by their counterparts from the UK and Saudi Arabia, but this didn’t seem to bother the Russian President. He resumed reading and no longer appeared upset. He was raging with anger, shouting out his words in a similar way an army major addresses his soldiers. “The White House is well aware that the world’s oil reserves will run dry in 2067, and is now keen to preserve the future value of its currency by forcing countries, such as Iran and Qatar, who have shared ownership of the world’s largest gas reserve, to trade their gas in US$ too! If the White House thinks that the Kremlin is just going to sit and watch them, as we did in Iraq or Libya and instigate a war in Iran, then this will be a costly mistake with severe and irreversible consequences. Our failure to act will destroy the Russian economy. If the US intervenes in Iran, then the Russian people will have only two options, die from hunger or die in a war? If the US makes even the slightest attempt to impede Iran’s sovereignty, then I would like to remind you that Russians are a proud nation, which would rather die in the battlefield than die from hunger! Thank you for listening to the Russian concerns!”

Holy shit, man! This isn’t funny anymore. Those slim microphones protruding out of the wooden speaking stand must be releasing some invisible fume that drives people mad! Death, war, apocalypse, ..?

Twenty or so minutes later, the US President appeared on the screen, speaking about the violations of human rights and lack of democracy in Iran. He went on ranting for two minutes before he stopped reading his notes. He removed his tinted reading glasses, revealing his sleepless eyes, dyed with red lines around his blue irises, as they contacted his audience. In an instant, his face red, so red as if somebody just sandpapered it, before addressing his audience in a furious full-blooded raging voice. “Since my Russian counterpart decided to speak openly, I now feel much obliged to do the same. The Russian President revealed to the world that in thirty years they’ll end up controlling the world’s gas reserves and consequently the world. The US will never allow this to happen! I want to be clear, and I want the world to know that if the Kremlin thinks that the White House will sit and watch them turn into the only superpower that will dominate the world, they are wrong!” He paused briefly to inhale a deep breath and then his words thundered out of long speakers fixed to the wooden walls. “THE US WILL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO PREVENT THE RUSSIANS IN BECOMING THE WORLD’S PHARAOHS, RULING OVER THE WORLD. AND IF A NUCLEAR WAR IS WHAT IT TAKES TO PREVENT THIS, THEN THE US WILL NOT HESITATE IN DOING SO!”

While I was contemplating on which one out of the three, the Iranian, the Russian or the US president deserves the Moron of the Year Award, my father got up from his chair, shouting with index finger pointed at the screen. “FUCKING CUNTS! YOU FUCKING CUNTS! YOU ARE GOING TO FUCK-UP THE WORLD AGAIN!”

“Mind your tongue, Dad!” I protested.

“You mind your ears, son!” He replied promptly. “I’m just following my therapist’s instructions.”

My father used to be a relatively well-mannered gentleman. But after his business went bust, profound grief reigned over him that sunk him into depression. He became a plant, a spiritless being, void of laughter or anger. Then one day, his psychologist encouraged him to express himself freely, and my Dad’s vocabulary expanded significantly with vulgar expressions.

“I know what your therapist has told you, but could please express yourself using something a bit more civilised?”

“Like what, Benjamin? Scum?” Dad countered back. “No, my dear boy. Scum are the journalists of the mainstream media who know why wars happen, and although it is in their job description, they decline to inform others regarding the real reason behind them. They’re the layer of dirt over the blood that these cunts will spill!”

“Alright, Dad, I give up! Did you take your medication today?” I asked.

“Yes, I did! But that no longer matters,“ my father replied, lifting his index finger towards the screen again. “This quarrel is going to have legs, and its footsteps will tremble the world!”

“But, six months ago you said-”

“I know what I said! But, back then, I wasn’t aware that the oil will dry out so soon and that the largest gas reserves are located in the Persian Gulf. The future of the US and Russia depends on that gas resource, and these bunch of control freaks will stop at nothing to assume control over it!” My father completed his sentence and turned up the volume to listen to the President of the European Council, Ms Derikur Keshtu after she turned up on our TV screen.




Nolan Jazimreg Reveals Proof of God's Existence and Brexit Tax Avoidance Scam

Nolan Jazimreg is a London-based author of “The Inconvenient Truth”, a highly controversial dystopian novel, which reveals profound insights into how hatred infiltrates us and oppresses our adeptness to live a contented life by revealing the existential proof of God, heaven or hell.

Having undergone an unconventional life journey, Nolan Jazimreg developed a bipolar condition, experiencing setbacks that transcended him into a parallel spiritual realm.

His ability to see beyond the “veil”, enabled Jazimreg to initially comprehend the tax-avoidance scam that is driving the UK out of the EU and expose it to over 300,000 people who read his insights on the mass deception behind Brexit!

Similar to the content featured on this blog, Jazimreg hopes that his lousy and bold writing style, featured in his novels, will enlighten its readers with exciting insights on human nature, God, heaven and hell!

Therefore, if you happen to know a daring publisher who is concerned about the grim days that lie ahead and still believes that books can change our world, please don’t hesitate to forward to them the following link, which features the first chapter of Nolan Jazimreg’s “The Inconvenient Truth”:


The Design Factor of Deconstructive Architecture

Architecture has to constantly evolve and question its established perceptions and principles of working in order to deliver inventively and exiting architectural creativity.

If an architect is preconceived to be a designer then we should interrogate the nature of the word design. The word design derives from two French words de and Signum, which in “The Chambers Dictionary” prefix de stands for off, and the word Signum is translated as a mark.

Thereby, the word design reflects the process in which one steps off a mark which literally means taking something away from a sign.

The word designer does not stand for reproducing the sign and its essence is not for it to follow a consistent path, which in effect constitutes that the incentive of the designer, which is not in being faithful in reproducing icons from the past but instead to create new icons.

In relation to the above statement, a deconstructive architect corresponds more to the essence of the conception of design when a Classical or a Modernist architect be true to taking away the signage by actually producing a signature building true to their values constantly throughout their career?

The heterogeneous and un-repetitive buildings are without a doubt one of the principal characteristics of Deconstructive Architecture.

This associated quality in Deconstructive Architecture is what confuses when one tries to define it.

The concept of conceiving genuine and not so familiar spaces distinguishes deconstructive architecture from other movements, whereas Palladio found his professional enlightenment in symmetry contrary, to challenge their shape, mode or a way of using it?

Technology is rapidly changing in order to accommodate the challenging needs of the user yet architecture still remains a servant to the geometrical parameters of the equipment/ furniture inhabiting the space without transforming them to suit the needs of the user.

The danger of such practice is that the architect either becomes a client by ignoring the design process and knowing exactly what it would look like once the brief is read or follows the client’s vision.

This criticism by Mark Wigley in 1998 has also noted that modern with rigidity in decorative features, Mies did so in detailing of constructive materials in a non-decorative manner, therefore, both the Classicist and Modernist architects have pledged their work to certain etiquette.

However, a deconstructive architect does not adapt his project to a common architectural formula but instead, he/she responds to the non-architectural elements, such as history, events, site context, and etc, because every deconstructivist project depicts different tangents related to its humanistic and sentimental values Deconstructive Architecture cannot be marginalized into a simple definition.

Classical architecture strived upon the production period of building ditto of the decorative ornaments.

Modernist architecture is similar; however, in opposition to the Classicist achieving purity in a building enchanted them.

Both of the aforementioned movements focused primarily on the building process. Deconstructive Architecture in comparison to the movements it bypasses dedicates its attention to the experience of a building after it becomes inhabitable.

One of the colours authentic to Deconstructive Architecture is the focus of the human experience of a space. The same consideration for the sentimental element can be traced in the writings of the Soviet Constructivists.

Constructivists maintained the perception of what the building should shelter but also invoke feelings to the user, hence a building should shelter but an architectural building should create an experience.

Another characteristic of the featured architecture is about displacement that is also identical to Constructivists’ beliefs. Displacement in itself is a condition that every progressive society absorbs.

Architecture is no exception and it cannot progress without its preconceived theories being challenged continuously.

In this respect, Deconstructivist architects have been successful in providing new insights into the theoretical aspect, whereas Modernists architects objected to the present decorative elements in the Classical architecture, Deconstructivists homologues routed their attention to the missing elements of architecture.

Whilst Modernist architects justified their purpose in successfully replacing the ornaments favoured by the Classicists, the deconstructive trajectory relies on displacement, one which, supplements architecture with additional values.

Therefore, Deconstructive Architecture cannot be mistaken for having destructive motives; a view already affirmed by Jacques Derrida should be understood as an elevating discourse.

This is done by reinscribing the established norms of architecture, another element implied by Derrida to be consistent in Deconstruction.

The process of reinscription constitutes in reinterpreting architectural elements. In the past architectural ideas were conveyed through drawings as a primary means of communication.

Deconstructivists consider verbal communication as equally as important as the graphical one in expressing their intentions, an architecture filtered through Deconstructivism no longer depends on the power of the lines but its strength is found in the interpretation of the ideas conceiving the spaces.

Due to this aspect, the image of an architect is no longer envisioned to be one of an individual with technical competence only producing working drawings. Through Deconstructive discourse, the architect’s position has changed into a literary profession.

Deconstructivists similar to Constructivists do not build buildings but rather they assemble the building’s elements together, whereby deconstructive buildings have no symmetry and do not facet ornamental values nor do they aim to provide purity.

Deconstructive architecture does not lie within a certain artistic ideology but it responds to its immediate spaces individually but is a tailored architecture, a process of obtaining a deconstructive building is parallel to producing a tailored jacket.

Deconstructive construction is similar to the tailored suits, which consist of elements that prior are sown individually and after assembled together.

The above are the characteristics of Deconstructivist Architecture but they are never applied in the same way, not even in the many works associated with an individual architect and therefore as it is constantly evolving the process true to an art form, architecture is again reconstituted to the status of art discipline.

The poignant story associated with architecture is the forty years of wait for it to become free to create, instead of copying and spreading a particular ideology obedient to a particular belief instead of architecture users, whereby Soviet constructivists and deconstructive philosophers have both played a major role in order for deconstructive architecture to surface.

The Constructivists are credited for the roots of the tree of deconstructive architecture and Derrida for securing the means under which it would flourish. Deconstruction presents a movement closer to a human being, by not defining the rules of life and conduct.

Deconstructive Architecture is not a style, but a tool that analyses a style and searches for ways to enrich it and does not serve the colonial appetite of massively spreading an ideology of a particular time or civilization. It looks for ways to help a building achieve its aims.

Deconstructive Architecture does not turn a building into a slave serving a particular style.

Deconstructive Architecture does not aim to create iconic buildings. It attempts to create memorable experiences in them.

Deconstructive Architecture does not claim which the correct way to do architecture. It only alludes to the ways it could be.

Deconstructive Architecture does not celebrate stones, brick, mortar or steel. It celebrates life in spaces confined by materials.

Deconstructive Architecture is not a closed chapter. That is why its architecture will continue to excite shock, horrify and inflict a reaction.