The Flickr Clashes Image Generatr

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Sam Stubbs of Cheltenham Town clashes with Ryan Graydon of Fleetwood Town
Fleetwood Town v Cheltenham Town, EFL Sky Bet League Two, Football, Highbury Stadium, Fleetwood, UK - 08 Feb 2025

This is the first photo I took in December 2024, a dozen long years since I last shot anything professionally. The last time I pressed a shutter button was in February 2013—before I swore off Photojournalism and photography for good.

Back then, And on the exact same day as today, the 11th of February 2013, I was on the streets of Cairo, covering what will be known as the 30th of June coup/revolution against the Islamic rule in Egypt. I thought I had seen it all—until the night I almost didn’t make it home, for I have been shot in the face.

The closest time I have been to death happened less than a month earlier.
January 22, 2013. The city was a powder keg. A police bullet had taken an innocent life, and in response, the neighborhood rose in fury. residnce took to arms and open fire at the police station and suddenly, I found myself arriving to the scene in the middle of it all—camera in hand, but unable to do much else.

Two shots. 9mm rounds. Fired in my direction. I froze. The door behind me caught them instead—two neat holes punched into the metal. That photo still exists here on my Flickr, buried somewhere in my archives. I turned around and ran, straight into the mob—bullets flying in both directions. I ducked behind a car, watching as two young men fell. They had fired back, but the police were quicker. Blood pooled around them. I should’ve been shooting with my camera, but I couldn’t. I ran.

That night, I didn’t go home. I went straight to my go-to bar and drank until I blacked out. A week passed before I could even touch my camera again.

Then came February 11, 2013—today, 12 years ago. Another protest. Another confrontation. And this time, three cartridge bullets—hunting rounds—ripped into my face.

I was lucky. No vital organs hit. No permanent damage, aside from the scars. But in that moment, as I lay on a hospital bed, baring seeing my brother in the peripheral vision, everything was clear—I was done.

I left photojournalism that day. I switched to office journalism, then to producing, then to business, leaving politics for good.
My cameras sat untouched, gathering dust, for many years, unable to touch it.

And then, one night in December, over Hanukkah and Christmas, someone dear to me suggested I play LIS.
And just like that, something stirred. I remembered how much I used to love this. How photography was once second nature, how I used to walk into chaos, camera-first, afraid of nothing.

I hesitated. I could almost taste the iron in my mouth just thinking about picking up my 550D again—this cursed camera that had witnessed more grief than joy, more blood than rain, more bullets than dust. Yet, in the weight of all it had seen, I found a reason to lift it once more. And I did.

And this—this dimly lit photo of a simple salt lamp—was the first thing I shot.

And then, I couldn’t stop.


Fragments - 01

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الغسق - 4 فبراير 2012 - يحمل متظاهر علم مصر وتحيط بها البحار من الغاز المسيل للدموع

Dusk 4 February 2012. A protester defiantly waves an Egyptian flag with the emblems of Christianity and Islam ( the cross and the crescent ) added - a message of religious unity. Clouds of tear gas are lit up with an eerie glow by the sinking sun.

He is standing in Mansour Street near to the junction of Mohammed Mahmoud Street in Downtown Cairo and was said to have been a relative of one of the 28 Christian demonstrators who were shot, stabbed or run down by armoured military vehicles outside Cairo's state media building in Maspero in central Cairo on 9th October 2011.

He is only about two hundred metres away from Egypt's notorious Ministry of Interior building - which had become a sort of Bastille like symbol of police repression. Facing him stand hundreds of heavily armed riot police and soldiers - but they are out of sight - hidden by the clouds of gas.

You will notice the Islamic Crescent and the Christian Cross drawn together on the Egyptian flag - to the other side of the central Eagle is the Arabic letter Y which taken together can be read as indicating "Egyptian" - the inference being that Christians and Muslims are first and foremost all Egyptians.

This photo is one of the last I took and uploaded to Flickr on the day before I was arrested.

Unlike photo 1 this one has been slightly and somewhat crudely photoshopped to remove a photographer who was nearer the flag holder than I was although unlike myself (an amateur snapper) and most of the protesters he was sensibly equipped with a gas mask.

The protesters were demonstrating over the death of 79 football fans, 72 of them Al Ahly supporters, during a match at Port Said on 1st February 2012.

When Al Masry supporters stormed across the stadium, the visiting Al Ahly crowd couldn't escape since, according to witnesses, police kept the stadium exit doors locked. Vastly outnumbered by the home crowd many of whom had managed to smuggle knives and other weapons into the stadium, Ahly supporters were clubbed and stabbed while others were killed in the stampede to escape.

There was a widespread perception of the involvement of some elements in the police and security forces in their deaths. Al Ahly Ultras ( who suffered the majority of the fatalities ) were said to have been targeted because they had been one of the most organized and effective youth groups involved in the protests in 2011 which led to the overthrow of Mubarak.

Update April 2020 -. If anyone is interested in the forgotten history of British imperialism and how it impacted the lives of millions of people around the world including Egypt from the 1700s until today - I've posted over 600 short articles on the following website. roguenation.org/ including the following page where you can select from over 600 pages according to country - roguenation.org/choose-by-country

Riot police attacks protesters outside of ΟΣΕ (Greek train organism) with teargas and flashbangs during the Tempi remembrance rally (An ''accident'' that took place a few killometers outside of Larisa in wich two trains going in opposite directions colided leading to the death of 57 people).
Thessaloniki 28/2/2024

A teenager in custody after the Tempi remembrance rally (An ''accident'' that took place a few killometers outside of Larisa in wich two trains going in opposite directions colided leading to the death of 57 people). Citizens tried to explain to the police that the young man had nothing to do with the clashes that took place earlier that day but they didn't listen to them. Thessaloniki 28/2/2024

Bus stops in front of trash which was set on fire by protesters after the demonstrations against the establishment of private universities in Greece Thessaloniki

Protesters burn a Greek flag after the demonstrations against the new law about criminal actions in Thessaloniki Greece

el 1/2/24 La Policía de la Ciudad, junto con otras fuerzas, reprimieron la manifestación contra el presidente Milei, mientras en el congreso trataban una ley para otorgarle la suma del poder público.

Clashes with the police in Thessaloniki after the polytechnic uprising remembrance rally

A Palestinian youth used his sling shot to throw back a tear gas canister fired by the Israeli army during a solidarity protest for prisoners, at Ofer military prison in Bituniya, West Bank, February 19, 2013. (Photo by Owen Ziv/GroundTruth)

...Cray and the Fish-Emperor was doing their usual business in the "antique shop" that is Cray rushing about with his exo-suit and drinking large amounts of coffee while the F-E was sitting behind the shop counter and till munching away on some rotten fish he found in a corner of the shop..

Cray was just putting up some vintage bags of LEGO in their display window... then he noticed an angry mob consisting mostly of Under-hive mutant scum and lower class aliens storming down the street chanting slogans on the other side of the street riot police started lining up supported by shotgun police in the ranks behind them... Cray who was just short of a whole year had never seen anything like this before so he asked his wise and ancient boss the Mongrel-fish-Emperor:

- Hey Master, what is that going on on the street o ancient and wise master from the past of ancient times...

The Emperor of rotten fish joined the baby hybrid in an exo-suit by the window then he spoke while his young apprentice was listening with all his ears... he said:

- Well my young monglel species workel and fliend, that is a Liot!

- Oh You mean a Riot, yeah I have read about those in our official state-funded history book, since you cannot trust anything written in that since it is the mouth-pice of our Government-companies I ask you wise master what are these Riots about?

- Well Young spawn of a molther and fathel united in intercourse, it Is called a Liot not a Riot and it often happens when people or mutants or aliens or aliens don´t get fed enough fish, then they angry get and lush fol the stleet and lun wild and smash all stuff and scleam and make a liot, then law enfolcer comes and bash them with mauls and canes so they get bluscess on lrm and leg!!!

- But Mighty Master why don´t the government supply the lower classes with enough food, Eh, I mean fish???

- it is all lelly about oplession, our society wolks much bettel if thel is a hell undelneth them and those who are pooll is happiel when thele is someone the spit at can fulther down than them...
...Also it is because we no longer have no ocean hele on capital planet, so we have to boat send down the toilet-flush-watel undelglound or that they cannot affold pizza with topping because the olives are out of season on this globe...

- ah, I see Master, Imagine how much wisdom I fish in your flowing rivers of wisdom, I am so happy to have ears so I cane let the spoken wisdom fill my very young brain!

- Yes youle ale one lucky hyblid fetus from one homman mothel and one Tli-Phone fathel, you vely lucky indeed I say to my self and you!!!

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RITRATTI DI CARTA

Il tempo è passato, i ricordi sono ingialliti, vorrei riportare all’attenzione di tutti noi queste pagine di storie e di ricordi con ritratti di carta di donne diverse ma uguali che rappresentano tutte noi.
Parlo di DONNE e parlo di ricordi ingialliti, storie del nostro passato ma purtroppo ancora presenti nei giorni nostri.
Perché RITRATTI DI CARTA.
Sono storie di ieri stampate su carta, sono storie di oggi stampate su carta fotografica, entrambe raccontano, trasmettono memoria, vogliono comunicare un pezzo di cultura.
Ritratti di DONNE diverse ma uguali per esperienza vissuta “la violenza” che io interpreto con più storie e con una narrata attraverso fotografie di una donna, di tante donne che rappresentano tutte noi, in vari luoghi perché diverse sono le città e i paesi in cui si affaccia la violenza.
Tra le donne abusate, chi riesce a trovare quel minimo di forza ne esce, ma comunque è ferita, c’è invece chi muore senza riconoscerne il motivo, chi rimane nel proprio mutismo e chi vuole da voce alla lingua muta.
E mentre abbozzavo il mio progetto fotografico, continuavo la mia ricerca, partendo dalla mia più intima memoria fino alla memoria di altre, guardo quelle facce di donne con un ricordo nascosto o espresso.
Quelle umilianti e terribili esperienze hanno qualcosa in comune, sono storie di violenza contro le donne.
E’ un gesto che niente può redimere o rimediare. Un gesto anche contro di me, contro tutte le donne e quelle donne sono tante, siamo noi … Vincenzina, Cira, Sibilla, Carmelina, Teresina, Maria, Mimma, Maria Grazia, Giovanna, Marianna, Artemisia, …..
In tutte le storie di carta emergono il potere maschile e il senso di proprietà dell’uomo.
Da parte della donna si avverte la ricerca dell'amore, la ricerca della protezione e della guida negli uomini.
Per il genere maschile si avverte prima un breve gioco di seduzione e poi una sorta di assoggettamento verso le donne per manipolarle e sminuirle, offenderle, ricattarle, sottometterle, portarle alla solitudine e arrivare ad annullare la loro autostima e personalità.
Elementi presenti nella violenza psicologica per poi procedere al successivo e probabile atto di abuso sessuale e violenza fisica, fino ad arrivare in alcuni casi al femminicidio.
Sono storie vissute e avvenute in contesti storico temporali differenti, alla fine del 1800, nel 1938, nel 1996, a queste se ne possono aggiungere altre precedenti, nel 1700 con la storia di Marianna Ucrìa e addirittura nel 1600 con quella di Artemisia Gentileschi o con quelle dei giorni nostri, in fondo sono donne diverse ma uguali per le storie comuni che purtroppo si ripetono ancora oggi nonostante che le leggi e la società si siano evolute.


... e la storia continua ...

"Hi Momo! Was machst du hier? Willst du nochmal für uns kochen? Es war nämlich sehr lecker!", sagt Ken. "Und wo ist Yinka?"
Wir hatten nämlich jetzt die kalten Tage, wo man nicht raus konnte, die Idee, jeder kocht etwas aus seiner Heimat, reihum.
"Keine Ahnung, wo der Idiot ist. Ist mir auch egal.", sagt Momo. "Ich koche ganz bestimmt nicht mehr für den! Ich wollte mir grad nur ne Tasse Kaffee machen."
"Was ist los? Hat Yinka sich über das Essen beschwert? Also, ich fand es super lecker, und du hast dir ja auch richtig Mühe gegeben."
"Was fragst du? Du warst doch dabei! Du hast doch gesehen, wie schön ich alles hergerichtet habe, den Tisch festlich gedeckt mit Blumen, Kerzen und gefalteten Servietten. Und so ein Tajine ist auch nicht eben mal in einer halben Stunde gekocht! Und was macht der?! Setzt sich hin und isst mit den FINGERN! Wie so ein Affe aus dem Urwald! Diese Leute haben überhaupt keine Kultur! Wo der gekocht hat, hat der einfach alles in einen Topf geschmissen, Fleisch und Fisch zusammen, das kann man doch nicht essen! Du hast ja gesehen, ich war höflich und hab's gegessen. Aber mit Besteck!" 🍴
"Ja, genau, ich seh noch dein finsteres Gesicht in meiner Erinnerung."
"Jedenfalls mit so primitiven Leuten will ich nix zu tun haben!"
"Hör mal, es ist eine andere Kultur, und du brauchst den Mann jetzt hier nicht zu beleidigen, nur weil es dir fremd ist."
"Aber der hat keine Kultur, keine Tischsitten, der isst mit den Fingern!"
"Unser Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) hat auch mit den Fingern gegessen. Willst du damit sagen, er hatte auch keine Kultur? Willst du unseren Propheten Muhammad (ﷺ) beleidigen? Astaghfirullah!"
"Hmmpfff. Oooh, bitte verzeih mir, so hab ich das nicht gemeint!" 😧😬
Die Schamesröte steigt ihm ins Gesicht. Na, hoffentlich denkt er darüber nach.


"Hi Momo! What are you doing here? Do you want to cook for us again? It was very tasty!" says Ken. "And where is Yinka?"
During the cold days when we couldn't go out, we had the idea that everyone would cook something from their homeland in turn.
"I have no idea where this idiot is. I don't care," Momo says. "I definitely don’t want to cook for him anymore! I just wanted to make myself a cup of coffee."
"What's wrong? Did Yinka complain about the food? Well, I thought it was really tasty and you really made an effort too."
"What are you asking? You were there! You saw how beautifully I prepared everything, the table festively set with flowers, candles and folded napkins. And a tajine like that can't be cooked in half an hour! And what is he doing?! Sits down and eats with his FINGERS! Like some monkey from the jungle! These people have no culture at all! When he cooked, he just threw everything into one pot, meat and fish together, you can't eat such thing! You saw, I was polite and ate it. But with cutlery!" 🍴
"Yes, exactly, I can still see your frowning face in my memory."
"In any case, I don't want to have anything to do with such primitive people!"
"Look, it's a different culture and you don't have to insult the man just because it appears strange to you."
"But he has no culture, no table manners, he eats with his fingers!"
"Our Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) also ate with his fingers. Are you saying he also had no culture? Do you want to insult our Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ)? Astaghfirullah!"
"Hmmpfff. Oooh, please forgive me, I didn't mean it like that!" 😧😬
His face flushes with embarrassment. Well, let’s hope he'll think about it.

Polizisten werden in der Sanderstrase in Berlin-Neukölln mit Feuerwerkskörpern angegriffen. In diesem Jahr kam es zu vielen Angriffen auf Polizei und Feuerwehr. / Police officers are attacked with fireworks in Sanderstrase in Berlin-Neukölln. This year there were many attacks on police and firefighters.

Thousands march in memory of Alexis Grigoropoulos. December 6, 2022. Athens, Greece. ©Iason Raissis

Thousands march in memory of Alexis Grigoropoulos. December 6, 2022. Athens, Greece. ©Iason Raissis

Thousands anarchists march in memory of Alexis Grigoropoulos. Decmber 6, 2022. Athens, Greece. ©Iason Raissis

Thousands anarchists march in memory of Alexis Grigoropoulos. Decmber 6, 2022. Athens, Greece. ©Iason Raissis