Is nothing sacred in politics these days? That is, aside from Mohammed VI, the King of Morocco, whose status as the Commander of the Faithful has for years made him virtually untouchable in the press. Despite the country’s July 2011 constitutional reforms which sought to increase freedoms, the 48-year-old leader remains as unassailable and above critique as he did in June.

The busy streets of Morocco’s capital city are not immune to the common signs of poverty that one would expect in the urban centers of developing nations. Beggars are never far from view in Rabat, whether young children, veiled mothers with babies still too small to walk, or displaced sub-Saharans trying to migrate “elsewhere.” High rates of unemployment, social problems (such as lack of options for divorced women), and the lack of an organized and stable welfare sector contribute to the prevalence of begging on the streets of Morocco. As a resident of Rabat, I continually recognized familiar faces on the downtown streets. And yet, in the winter of 2011, I first encountered a strange man who captured my attention: he goes by the name of “Si Ahmed.”

British-Egyptian Mohamed Negm, is a young, self taught, emerging artist. Painting for the last five years, his work has varied from portraits, buildings, places and to his latest focus: the Egyptian revolution. With a style marked by his imagination and inspired by his surroundings, Negm has produced an outstanding number of pieces that have caught the attention of the media, galleries and exhibitions worldwide.

The Baghdad Country Club, by Joshua Bearman, is the story of the one watering hole in the Green Zone during the height of the war's worst years. After several years in country, one soldier of fortune realized there was nowhere to sit down and have a drink, and when he happened into a local connection to booze by the container, he soon found himself in the wartime hospitality business. While it lasted, the Baghdad Country Club was something like the Rick's Cafe Americain of Baghdad: the only place anyone could go, get dinner, a glass of wine, and commiserate with others about what was going out there, beyond the fortified walls of the Green Zone.

As a medium, comic books offer a range and breadth of possibilities. They can tell the stories of viking feuds, interpersonal relationships, or superhero epics. Whatever the creative team can come up with can be put to the page. And although it might sound unlikely, that’s what makes it the perfect medium to explore historical turning points.

The story sounds like a dinner party gone wrong.

Initially invited to the table of the 2011 Lacoste-Elysee Prize for up-and-coming photographers, Palestinian-born Larissa Sansour suddenly found herself removed from the shortlist, barred from the prestigious 25,000 Euro award, and, most importantly, silenced. Organizers added insult to injury by asking her to sign a statement of “voluntary” withdrawal. She refused.

What does liberation really mean? Words spoken without fear of death by torture? Or images spray-painted on the side of a building where a sniper once perched?

TLC’s show, All-American Muslim, premiering tonight, Sunday, November 13th, will be mainstream America’s first glimpse into the lives of a largely feared, little-known about group of compatriots: Muslim Americans.

A year ago, a “Muslim Cosby Show” was an idea Katie Couric suggested, and a concept that Muslim-Americans embraced; mainstream media outlets dismissed the notion as simplistic and bird-brained. “Earth to Katie,” wrote New York Post columnist Andrea Peyser, “African-Americans, Eskimos, or imbecilic white ladies didn’t fly planes into the World Trade Center. Try again, genius.” But then, neither did the 1.8 million Muslims who also call the United States home, living very ordinary non-24-esque lives and managing to maintain the average American balance of nationality and faith. Yet like predecessors The Cosby Show and The George Lopez Show, “ordinary” for an American minority can be very abnormal to those on the outside. But, reality has a way of deflating stereotypes.