Survival of probabilities under solar radiation

Theater News Base: Some possibilities are dangerous, some possibilities go hand in hand, sometimes they make destiny, sometimes they do not. Probabilities The “probability” of their destiny doubles when they are based on current history. Ali Shams’ “possibilities” are not dangerous and fateful, but they are painful, sometimes heartbreaking and, of course, questionable. Ali Shams, in his possibilities, like a skilled locksmith, “locks the key” but broken keys of the kind of alas that do not work in history and the lock hangs on the same door that has been rolling on the same heel for years, as if “how immortal is Decianus, wow wow “Alas.”

Ali Shams dives into the depths of the darkroom of history in possibilities such as crazy and breathtaking master diving, sometimes eerie, in which the “magic of the legendary secluded space” emerges from the scene, like a segment of the path that snatches the soul from the audience. He is a segment of historical moments, not from the part that appears in written and official history, but from the kind of moments that should have come and not in history according to the author’s fatwa, and because the pen was in the hands of the conquerors, maybe those in history He narrates that it is true, or at least if it were so, then what would happen. Ali Shams’s Possibilities for Bu Ali Sina, the Court of Amir Noah Samani, Temporal Justifications, Conditional Comparison Analogy, and Aristotelian Logic have nothing to do with what has been said and written by many. He penetrates the moments when, in the darkest layers of history, an event, small and large, right and wrong, lies, placing his finger on the pure, breathtaking and inflammatory moments of an unknown girl who has aborted an unwanted child. Let’s say this girl is a runaway slave of the Caliph of Baghdad, Yasmin Nam, or any other anonymous girl who is in history but not contemporary, how can she not be? This is where the flame of imagination burns like the heartless thieves of the tent and the rabbit of the mind, and draws the audience to those moments full of fear, excitement, desire, heartbreak, and the culmination of an unnamed girl in history who is the scientist of the time and official. The Samanid court has disappeared or not disappeared on a faded bed in the chaotic depths of history, and what books could have been left by him that did not exist or may not exist? The seventh century and the Mongol invasion that goes on has nothing to do with Genghis and his supporters and supporters, with his successors and what happened to the Neyshapurians and the Iranians, with Halaku and his courtiers, with the Mongols who became slaves and artists in the face of the Persian culture of Sultan Mohammad; It goes back to those pure moments when a person, still anonymous in the history of a book, thinks that books in those hot and breathtaking moments are important, or that he did not even have the opportunity to think, just picked up everything he could find in a long, millstone. The ruins are hidden in a box in a fading building in a corner of history, which he thinks has saved them from the fire, but the possibilities bring that historical fire to the audience’s heart on the stage. What if he took the book instead? What if he lingered for a moment and was killed by the Mongols? What if the books he saved from the fire with the blood of his heart were not found?

Elsewhere, he goes to those pure moments when the people of Shiraz, behind closed gates, are terrified of Lotfali Khan Zand. The fateful one whose taking or not taking that fate changed the city, the nation, the books and libraries, the country? In those moments, what happened to Ibrahim Khan, the sheriff, who was later called Etemad-ol-Saltaneh, what was going on in his heart? What is the dual feeling of betraying the people of Shiraz to Sardar Zand and saving the city of Shiraz? What if Agham Mohammad Khan was not as he was in the play? If Lotfali Khan did not blind and did not make a golden cup from the bowl of his head, and there were not thousands, if any, and possibly another possibility that each of them would set fire to the audience, then what path would history take? The representation of probabilities in such boundaries enters into the quantum theories of Schrینdinger’s cat, which is probably universal in parallel with the current world in which Agham Mohammad Khan is what Ali Shams says and Shirazi whose gates are open to Lotfali Sardar Zandieh.

In all its historical complexities, time travel, highly ironic and anti-conceptual conflicts, such as the black dress of the miller who killed Yazdgerd and written on it in modern English as “keep calm I am the queen” and the miller who had the power to kill a chicken. Yazdgerd III of the Shah of Iran, thinking that he had come to steal a donkey, killed him and wrote “Be Yourself” on his clothes, which, if he were to be the one who did not dare to approach the Shah of Iran, was a joke. The narration of Bahram Beizai, the creator of Yazdgerd, the third stranger in history, digging into the dark alleys of history, creates all the scenes of insanity, scenes that are set in the heart of fire and make books more painful. Whether that book is “one word” or tens and hundreds of volumes of words, born of “multi-volume wombs”, or “single-volume wombs”; Suffering is one, and its fire is as burning and hope “gone” as the midwife’s hope of history awaiting Marcel Proust’s “lost time,” but the “multi-volume womb” of history in one of Iran’s fateful turning points. »Increases.

The author ruthlessly takes the audience to other scenes of history, and again leaves the audience of the burnt-out house in the midst of a multitude of questions to burn, blisters, candles, mutilations, hotheads in the mouth. Contribute to the golden cup, under the heavy and sinister shadow of the stingy and deceitful “master of words” who desperately does not want anyone, a book, a text to be higher than himself, better than himself, different from himself.

The narration of Ali Shams is not the narration of burning books, it is the narration of the historical grief of a nation in the historical span of several thousand years, sometimes the Mongols, sometimes the Arabs, sometimes the words, sometimes the ignorant thug, sometimes the ignorant miller, sometimes the playfulness of the naughty and playful girl, sometimes the lost leader. A shepherd in the heart of the plains of Persia who shows Alexander the Great bypassing Aryabarzan; Each of them has laid the foundation for this fire according to their situation, and in this narration, Ali Shams pours it drop by drop to the audience. He even spreads the wish of an anonymous and loving librarian in one of the small and humble libraries of Arak on the street floor on the eve of Tehran tolls that his body can hardly be collected, and this is the inevitable fate of a patient nation with these calamities.

The play on words and the semantic twists and turns that pervade this narrative culminates where the author tries to teach the donkey that the cart is bad. The thief does not know which is the car and which is the car. Ali Shams’s possibilities burn, unless “there is no life but news in the test, whoever adds more news to his life” then burn his book to take his life, to touch and stare and painless, and the vicious circle he prescribes again “the pain of pain is the cure for fire. Is”. It is as if this congregation is not free from fire, there is no other way for its life and death except fire, and the cry of where to “hang” this dark night to get rid of my ragged robes to get rid of “enterprise”!

Ali Shams’s painful jokes with the history and literature of this border and landscape require courage and domination that not everyone can afford it, not everyone is its venom to hit the bottom of history so ruthlessly and so proudly from under the hooves a terrible wave and the ocean to the end of history Let Iran come out of the land safe and sound. The author’s historical and literary mastery of literature and historical narratives from another Looney and from another gender is astonishing. Let’s count how many of these lines have gone to the theater for the first time in their forty-seven years, which is true (of course, how likely is it that a person of this age will see Ali Shams for the first time when he sees the theater. It’s painful history that requires another hadith!) Let’s say he is Ali Shams’s friend and comrade, that is, let’s take it because he does not know anything about acting, directing, playwriting, staging, he speaks out of ignorance. Something can be anything.

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