bedtime story

ill tell you mine
i was walking down the street this one day...and a hobo stops me
this hobo has a frend in their hobo car
they ask for ids

i show briefly
they ask for more
i furious

"where do you work" they ask
i tell them follow me
"but we dont want to climb a hill"

i furious
"u want me to hand over all my bags and papers and ids, but you wont climb a hill? SHOW ME SOME ID!!"

the hobo turns out to be nothing but the majestic QIWA AL AMN
to protect me, and lives like mine...AWWW

i open what he recognizes as LOBBTOBB and FOLIO
he feels secure
he doesnt apologize, and leaves

ide rather die with chinese bombs of soja-based reincarnated dragonfire than be protected by mother fucking pigeon fuckers - FUCK YOUR MENTAL CLITORII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

goodnite sweets

Melody Hits

We must all bow to the majesties of hits and trash, for when Rotana was buying everything and everyone that lived, is alive or about to live in the music industry, Melody Hits (http://www.melodyhits.tv/) was making la creme de la creme of what is now apparently Arab Pop Culture .. and if not making, well - paving the ground for an open forum - super free medium for their fetishism. I don't watch TV, I do not own one for that matter - but regardless... today, at my parents' we had Melody Hits on and oh-baby-baby-off-yalalalli

Melody Hits YouTube channel
http://www.youtube.com/user/melodytvgroup?blend=1&ob=4

I am not here to judge, but i must concur that this is one heck of a something. In this part of the world where individual needs are sort of...blurred, comes this household 'item' let's call it - that is accessible for free 24/7 ... that could easily make almodovar weep, bjork blush and britney take notes.. I mean, these clips are.. well, look -
I'm not sure if i'm proud..or just sadistically comforted by these sexual outbursts, but.. well - i must admit, Yehya Saadeh, Fadi Haddad, Leila Kanaan, Jad Choeiri and the etceteras are a pseudo-wild bunch that we might as well parade, in the quasi-sense of the work. I mean, making porn out of bad music, is commendable - and introducing sex to 0 yr olds in subjective displays of ... erotic megalomania is, well - Nido..

indy and the pen dance

3,3057,851.239669421487603305785124 USD is the pretentious selling price of every m2 of Lebanese land..if it would be put to auction, to bid off our interracial debt - still, we have Monday off ...for independence day - still, we must consume fuel of imported fossils, to boast planes we do not know how to maneuver .. (used) - to fight a so-called enemy ..that helped design the grandchildren of those planes.. we must, we seriously must parade our nonsense, or else, it wouldnt be so lebanese..would it?

the festivities would start with a collaboration with local radios, via exaggerated prime-times - excessive car-time, .. via traffic - upon a road-clot, orchestrated by men in costumes - l'army.

please, do not get me wrong - i love a good show, too bad i walk to work eyy? but what exactly are we partying for? our electric cut-offs? our political breakthroughs? our job opportunities? our god-rape? ..that everything we do just spills into a vicious black hole of no-fucking-thing, of a possible.. stagnance, a constant need to leave - an interminable guilt-trip, to nothing in particular - a boast that we can gather so and so heads per meter squared in empty spaces in our capital city center via chants of valhallan popcorn?

i dont get it, i think this makes me a bad citizen - a "bad..bad boy" - that is not allowed to pitch in the ..at least attempted evolution of his nation . . well fuck it then - fuck being a patriot of a medium that only rejects my constant chivalry - fuck this construct, fuck songs that make us weep..because we only weep to imagery of things that aren't - fuck us - for taking this shit... wlek, fuck..im gonna go to work on monday ..(choose your finger motherfuckers)

wawa ba7...(yemken)

http://lebanese-laique-pride.over-blog.com/

Your horoscope for November 14, 2009

Right now you could be thinking about your career, r. You might be wondering if you should change jobs. It's good to consider all options. Think about what you really want to be doing with your work. Are you using your creative talents at your current position? Are you mentally stimulated, or are you getting bored? You like to learn and to grow all of the time, and you need to have a career that allows you to do this.

..so it wasn't a prologue.. my bad

[...]

-give me another word that rhymes with construction
-destruction
-another word
-destruction
-you do have a point, not one actually - more, a lot more. as always, i'll connect them - ill make lines, in vector masturbation(s), intersections i always tell you about - connections of lines i always draw
-(L0
-lines you don't look at
-destruction
-yes, yes - i know, destruction, i know - i told you, you are right ..for you had more than one point, points - as i connect you as i wish, construct you in ways i desire, a place - places
[.]




how i hate fullstops..

[...]

..so im planting olives in BCD

I am not particularly the volunteer-work buff, making the world a better place, for other people. But now, a little place behind my testicle just showed me the light. Yes, be surprised; I allow you. I have made it a habit to plant olives in the beirut central district, on my way to and/or from work everyday. There is this little shop that happens to make pseudo-yum labneh sandwiches that I impose on myself to fancy. This little shop is one of those who believe in holistic issues. He looks devout, very. He has very big ketchup bottles, and uses seeded olives in his sandwiches. At first, I was appalled, I viciously spat the seed on the 234 Tala Beige Jordanian Stone of Beirut Central District Sidewalk and cursed via his mother's clitoris... But later, around bite #2 or #3, I noticed my missed opportunities and their impotent trees. This place has no real food, bite this shit.. suckle this olive, spit seed into plantholder.
Why this is genius: they have people to take care of my seeds
ehm, Let's all do this, I love apples - so this project could start later. I am covering the Fouad Chehab > Testicle > Riad el Solh > Synagogue route in principle.

1. beware, orchestrate arm in such a way not to imply bomb inflictions, you'll die
2. act natural
3. enjoy your sandwich
4. work in task-oriented groups

Long Live Procreation
Sincerely,
r

so, i am producing a heart

and they tell me of ventricles. ok, ventricles. i have to have a right one and a left one, but all i seem to preoccupy myself with is a wrong one. i miss one, ventricle. i miss one. so i have to have a right one and a left one, i can try - as i suck up my inferiority ino a superior vena cava, that does not relate but to my stupid triscupid intermissions of projections of past beats, i cannot respire; i want to produce a heart, that feels nothing. aorta. pass the aorta, please. i am producing my heart, so do not interrupt. i weave. i weave. i weave. i weave.
it is pulmonary, too common, for me to allow blood in this new heart of mine. but i wont. because i will not make a scene when it bursts, for i know it might. so no blood. i weave. i weave. i weave. i weave the valve. i will not let you in, and you wont let me out, so i'll weave. i'll weave. i'll weave in that artery, i'll weave. i'll weave. i'll weave that vein.
in vain, i weave. i weave. i weave. i weave, until things become more clear, more obscene, more useless, more raw, more naked - already slit open, thank you - i place my produce - inside, as i weave. i weave. i weave. i weave it in, in front of me - still, i won't let you in, but you won't let me out, and my produce, made to be blind, silent mute, voluntary - involuntarily, it beats. it beats. it beats. it beats

on color

i have been working on a little pseudo-possible-documentary on the river in tripoli (which is becoming a non-river), so i thought that it would be nice to video-tape it an produce a piece for my hypothetical grandchildren...for at the rate of social catastrofuck, this slit of a river will be no more.
so, after a couple of rounds of shooting, getting lost in vessels of pedestrian conduct, little alleys of this and that - smells, i think - scentractions of mapmarks and insinuated direction, i noticed - that this city is no more. i grew up here, for a while - although i don't consider myself a local. i dont see myself suitable for this concept, ..''local'' - i spent more time in my head..on paper, or something else introverted .. relating myself to nothing but myself, for safe anchor - and this is why.

i see myself drifting to the collection of little things, to pickle things, because i can't push them forward. it is becoming a defense, while all i need to do is offend this streaming system of absurd irrelevance. i criticize, but i think i do nothing, a blurred goal, a blurred relevance, a blurred everything - for i set no base, no anchor, but myself - this self losing interest in its obsessions, fleeting obsessions, no control over. no more, at least.

a video

http://vimeo.com/5489132

System Failure from Leen Sadder on Vimeo.

Leen Sadder's final year animation project at the American University of Beirut (AUB). Using stop motion animation, collage and Adobe After Effects, she managed to create her own imaginary world inside her computer screen.

lationship, re

relationship
i am not going to try to define it (oum kolthoum said that el 7obb keda) and the rest, ok - i trust her/it.
but relationship-
s based on poetry, i think do not work - too bad, they make sense
other people - some people inter-people..
things do not make sense to me anymore, but it makes it interesting
i say
i think i lie
am lying, that is
will lie more, if it gets me where i want to be
although i lie, that i wont lie - i hope that i dont
but to get to you - i think. .

*of course this is an abstract excerpt and means nothing and is addressed to no one and is worth your shoe - discard plz*

أرض

dear basma,

i must insist, that whatever i may comment might come off as completely irrelevant - but this is not the point, it has never been - relevance, in itself, on its own - is completely irrelevant - it is, believe me - or don't, at least - acknowledge
now, to your status, i feel the need to translate - translation rips the essence of things - mutilates them, but makes them more and less understandable - and this ...i shall use

{damn a nation, overflowing with sects and lacking religion}

--damn a nation--

in general, damn a nation. damn the nation. damn our nation(s).
(s) - what is our nation to begin with
1.pan arabia, my orgasm
2.play lines of dead politicians...republics/kingdoms

when talking about 1.
if considering pan-A, it exists only in the head - and if it does, this whole thing become irrelevant - if it exists in the head, we are all fine - but i dont think it does, to most people - sometimes it is better to un-think of it, as a young thing, i used to draw my own playlines - around the borders of arabia, and just .. color the whole thing as one - and i think - in my lifetime, some atlases will be printed as such - and after i die, many will, but i'm not sure if it would still be arabia, damn it.
when talking about 2.
then this in itself is a damnation, why would countries sharing history, religion*, blood, babies, households, food have boundaries (ask dead polititians when reading al-fati7a on respective graves) -- (or not)..(or don't read al-fati7a).. anyways, since defining the boundaies lies at the core of introverted mentality, simply - damn the nation, the concept of such nation - damn sects that call themselves nations, damn religion* altogether

--overflowing with sects--

define sects? no. wikipedia is too interesting, too interesting, use it. based on the prior /damn the nation/ protocol, i must insist, that
1. nations are sects
2.religion/sect+sect

let's talk about 2.
what is religion? we can all agree that utopia does not exist, platonia is too boring, yet still - irrealistic, so why bother. so the almighty decides to tickle us with a piece of information:
find utopia
i think it's a joke, depeche mode too.. i mean,
http://www.lyricsfreak.com/d/depeche+mode/blasphemous+rumours_20039337.html
anyways, beside blashpemous rumors - -
to me, religion is the ultimate political dream, why? because god said so - angry? exactly.
so screw it, if you want to pray, pray at home - you want to masturbate with otello, at home too, you want to suck pencils, please do - at home. nations are not built on sentiment, they must build sentiment..but not on residues of the latter. hence, religion only exists on the fault between two sects - religion, in eqation is always less that sects - this would work better with a diagram, so look:


excuse the quality (phone pic)

so, this is hyperoptimism... religion::sect = 1::4
so again, damn a nation becomes a postulate according to
{damn a nation, overflowing with sects and lacking religion}

--and lacking religion--

alone, this is music to my ears, but in context, it makes no sense - because it is an utter statement of the conclusive obvious - yes, sects exist as majority to religion in any way or form - if not at moment of initiation, then at moment of perception.
and because this is a populative equation i.e.

1 religion = 1+ sect = x...

let's lack religion, a sect antidote - to maybe undamn a "nation", let's not call ourselves ..nationals - with a "nation", until i find another more appropriate name for us (never), let's enjoy being nothing extra - nothing more than producers and consumers - more tangible, i wouldn't mind being called a consumerist, when i buy a farroukh album, collaborate on spatial development or buy a decent newspaper everyday...maybe drinking home-brewed coffee.. am i ending this another quote, basma?

ويل لأمة تلبس مما لا تنسج

im not into ويلin general, so - i cannot agree with quotes, in general - anyways,
yes...i'll make myself some coffee,

much love