One of the less-reported stories of Oscar season was the nomination of the remarkable Palestinian film Five Broken Cameras in the documentary category. Emad Burnat, the film's protagonist and co-director, filmed five years of unarmed protests against land confiscation and the building of the separation wall in his West Bank village of Bil'in.
When Emad, his wife and 8-year-old son Gibreel arrived in Los Angeles to attend the award ceremony, they were detained and questioned at the airport. Despite the fact that Emad had his official Oscar invitation, they were threatened with deportation by immigration officials, who apparently could not believe a Palestinian could be nominated for an Oscar.
THE UNHAPPY BODY
"Why do you not dance with us and rejoice with us?" they said to a certain body. And then that body made the confession of its trouble. It said: "I am united with a fierce and violent soul, that is altogether tyrannous and will not let me rest, and he drags me away from the dances of my kin to make me toil at his detestable work; and he will not let me do the little things, that would give pleasure to the folk I love, but only cares to please posterity when he has done with me and left me to the worms; and all the while he makes absurd demands of affection from those that are near to me, and is too proud even to notice any less than he demands, so that those that should be kind to me all hate me." And the unhappy body burst into tears.
And they said: "No sensible body cares for its soul. A soul is a little thing, and should not rule a body. You should drink and smoke more till he ceases to trouble you." But the body only wept, and said, "Mine is a fearful soul. I have driven him away for a little while with drink. But he will soon come back. Oh, he will soon come back!"
And the body went to bed hoping to rest, for it was drowsy with drink. But just as sleep was near it, it looked up, and there was its soul sitting on the windowsill, a misty blaze of light, and looking into the river.
"Come," said the tyrannous soul, "and look into the street."
"I have need of sleep," said the body.
"But the street is a beautiful thing," the soul said vehemently; "a hundred of the people are dreaming there."
"I am ill through want of rest," the body said.
"That does not matter," the soul said to it. "There are millions like you in the earth, and millions more to go there. The people's dreams are wandering afield; they pass the seas and mountains of faery, threading the intricate passes led by their souls; they come to golden temples a-ring with a thousand bells; they pass up steep streets lit by paper lanterns, where the doors are green and small; they know their way to witches' chambers and castles of enchantment; they know the spell that brings them to the causeway along the ivory mountains--on one side looking downward they behold the fields of their youth and on the other lie the radiant plains of the future. Arise and write down what the people dream."
"What reward is there for me," said the body, "if I write down what you bid me?"
"There is no reward," said the soul.
"Then I shall sleep," said the body.
A Dreamer's Tales, by Lord Dunsany, 
At what precise moment does an individual stop being who he thinks he is? Cut off my arm. I say, 'Me and my arm.' You cut off my other arm. I say, 'Me and my two arms.' You take out my stomach, my kidneys, assuming that were possible... And I say, 'Me and my intestines.' And now, if you cut off my head... would I say, 'Me and my head' or 'Me and my body'? What right has my head to call itself me? What right?
We belong to the sect of fire, our garments always aflame.
During that year he did not see anyone along
The steppes he kept going on
Horses and donkeys he thoght unbroken
Even the mules he did not near and along
The vast steppes kept going all alone
His special tongue he shouldn't forget
And the laconic word in that language
Which covered all forms of reproach and praying, along
The vast steppes kept him always murmuring on
He sang songs twisting their tunes
Changing the order of words moaning
And forcing all great joys and pains to tears
Adorned them with unexpected laughter
He called out his own name for days and along
The vast steppes kept going on
He ate wild-tulip stems chewed black-cactus
Lost in deep thought he defacted and peed
Began to envision all the faces he knew
Concentrating hard he created a vision of each
From oasis and river to the sea turning sandheaps to water
Along the vast steppes kept vanishing on
Hoping never to meet himself again along
The vast steppes and off was gone.
Translated by Tomris Uyar
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