Wednesday, December 23, 2009

=[ (allahu akbar)*2 ]

so i was taking the dishes into the kitchen, as water was boiling..for my tea - and he starts calling me from outside - at points i thought he was romantic, but he calls everyone..just the same- so, not that interesting. i dont get why i have to be reminded that god is bigger, five times a day - i dont think i have issues i would want to discuss on god, right now - with you.. but the thing is, if god is bigger, or smaller - or maybe similar in size, it wouldn't really matter - because anyways - it wouldnt prove it..and it wouldnt prove anything else, in particular - even fact that - it is bigger, it is bigger - yet conflicts with its.. uncomparability complex, bigger than blank..hence, everything.

now i dont mean to be all cool and stuff, i just had some broccoli and fish, and i like both - oh so dearly, so i feel grand.. now..the water is boiling for tea - ill gulp and listen to something that ought to make me forget other things.. technically making my world go round..elliptical i think -

al salamu 3alaykom w...

Friday, December 18, 2009

Behind the Green Door

Behind the Green Door - a porn film,
and i think there's a plot..and things like that - Two men enter a fast food place. The owner asks them about a mysterious matter. After some considerations, one of the two guys accepts to tell the story. Here starts a long flashback: the two men are in a terrace, next to a lake, and one is telling the other a story. A woman sits at a table nearby. Later the same woman is kidnapped. When the blindfold is removed, a woman welcomes her. After a relaxing massage, she is accompanied by 6 women, into a stage, in front of masked men, and women of all kinds. A speaker explains that the woman will be pleased, by all means. The 6 women first, and later some men make love to her, while the audience progressively move into a orgy. This is the end of the flashback. The owner of the fast food place asks what happened after that time, but the men refuse to tell...


Thursday, December 17, 2009



for those of you who don't know مشروع ليلى , keys are being offered to unlock and get out of the lettuce this saturday december the nineteenth comma two thousand and nine - keys are sold at the door for 20,000 (key=ticket+CD) come

for those of you who love مشروع ليلى - its our communal androgynous circumcision this saturday, "exciting times" .. !!

for those of you who hate مشروع ليلى , yo mama!

for those of you who cannot give a flying fuck about مشروع ليلى , shit happens, the tiles are on your left - the Mediterranean on your right..ballto el ba7r ya ekhwet el ..hi, hello..ehm - yes

see you at DEMCO, even if it rains

Sunday, December 13, 2009


A documentary co-directed by Nick Abrahams and Jeremy Deller, artist and winner of the 2004 Turner Prize, about Depeche Mode fans around the world.

In Russia, May 9 is Victory Day, a national holiday. It's also the birthday of Dave Gahan, lead singer with Depeche Mode, and a group of Muscovite fans have declared it Dave Day, gathering together to celebrate the group with homemade banners, mass sing-alongs and club nights. In Russia and countries of the former Soviet Union, the band's music has been treasured since it was only available on illegal bootlegged cassettes in the 1980s, and it formed the soundtrack of the march toward freedom those countries embarked upon following the fall of the Berlin Wall. This situation is mirrored in Tehran, where fans take huge risks in listening to their music in a country that has banned all Western music since the Cultural Revolution. In the UK, the church of St Edward King and Martyr in Cambridge holds services for goths where they play Depeche Mode records. Turner Prize-winning artist Jeremy Deller and collaborator Nicholas Abrahams tell these and other stories of faith and devotion from around the world in this fascinating and inspired documentary about fandom, which is at turns bizarre, funny, sad and often touching.

lessons hebdomadaire

wipes liquid off face

ok, so here's the thing. this week has been interestingly obnoxious and very learn-worthy, to an extent that i don't really feel like writing - but i feel i have to - just to sum up - ..things and attempt to vent (obviously the only purpose of this blog) - anyways, as it turns out, in defiance to my singular belief, that passion doesn't make the world go round - money does.. not nice. note to self, make money..then jerk off on someone you like. BUT lesson#2.. people you like, dont like you..really - and other people, you dont give as much attention to, seem to like you - even though you dont give them the light of day - or the reason to. .which is now, an obvious viscious are those people, with the other people (that you like) .. now that sucks. i also learned that i must accept the fact that i can be depressed, and not be bugged about it - and i must also .. well, expect people not to want to be around a depressed entity - hence, i paint my kitchen yellow - so maybe they'll incubate in smiledom. what i also learned is that people get married, and have babies - and construct this mini-world that they get stuck in - and it pisses me off. i hate people when they become 35, although they turn me on - but they're stupid..and married most of the time. i learned that when you feel a little insecure, you must make someone else very insecure - and then you become very.. happy? i learned that the past is never the past and the future is never the future - the present doesnt exist.. well = everything you might be doing had been done and will be done by someone else - simply in different phases that are not synchronized, and that you are never doing something new - never. which is happy in a sense that we share this vast everythingness - but depressing when you write things in your little notebook.
and i learned that people must not run after planets, because they will never catch them.. and i learned that i will always do..because i cant grasp that i cant, and i wouldnt take it otherwise.

class adjurned

Monday, November 23, 2009

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

Sunday, November 22, 2009

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 ( 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

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..

Friday, November 20, 2009

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 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, gonna go to work on monday ..(choose your finger motherfuckers)

wawa ba7...(yemken)

Saturday, November 14, 2009

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.

Thursday, November 12, 2009 it wasn't a prologue.. my bad


-give me another word that rhymes with construction
-another word
-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
-lines you don't look at
-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..


Wednesday, November 11, 2009 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

Sunday, November 1, 2009

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

Sunday, October 25, 2009

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.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

a video

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

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*

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

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 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

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,
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

Tuesday, October 20, 2009


Celebrate the dark side of the 80's at Electro Mecanique with a great selection of tracks by Joy division, The cure, New Order, Cabaret Voltaire, Depeche mode, Siouxsie&the Banshees,sex pistols, the clash and many others
revisited by DJ MOUKA

event page on facefuck:

Saturday, October 17, 2009

have you seen a butterfly crawling?

i have.

i think it was looking for moth blasphemy, everyone is looking for moth blasphemy - or things for them to get caught - things never to come up - moth blasphemy - rumors of concubines and trinkets, probably naked incidents, behind frames with no doors, the shadows of footprints - behind imaginary outsides

it could have flied, if it needed to mate, but it crawled, for moth blasphemy - in places where no one knows it, him and her - it crawled, looks timid - it lurks to lead - for it thinks of its gradients to be more superior

have you seen a butterfly crawling?
when it touches your toes, it flutters of its reflection off your opaque floor..

,i have

Monday, October 12, 2009


بدي الك شي يا صاحبي - شو؟ - نحنا فاشلين - آه، بعرف - بعرف انك بتعرف - بس عن شو عم تحكي - كل ما نلائي شي ماشي، منعطي لا حداً تاني - هم

an impromptu conversation in a grocery store while buying overnight munchies, i think we were talking about almaza not being lebanese anymore, solidere selling land to gulficles, and our respective sexual frustration(s) - none stated..but i think so

5,500 iza bitreed

beirut souks

first things first

second things whenever..

what developers don't get, i think - is that city centers are not developed in incubators of intellectual restriction - on the contrary, they grow into centers, to inflate and resurrect simultaneously.

the concept of {let's rebuild the old souks} just doesn't get processed in my little head. i am not interested to be categorized within the cult of anti-solidere, on the contrary...especially that now - i live on its periphery, "downtown beirut" is one of the most intriguing pseudo-urban slices you can find. i like the place, now that i stopped reading what people thought of it and who cried because of it. life is cruel, architects are monsters and investors are imposters to our lives, ok - but this is the only way that it could have happened - fullstop, shall we?

we as people living in beirut have learned to - ok, pause rewind, pause fastforward, zoom in - zoom out, chill - denial denial, melancholize...etcetera and so on, except here. the downtown that was molested by its own people was claimed private land by other people, who designed their fairytale --- -- its wierd, its fucked up - but it's beirut. recall forbidden cities, a.k.a southern suburbs of the beirut / recall the silk road, a.k.a hariri qoraitem residence / recall spears traffic, a.k.a barbar..but we all still go eat there and park like fuckiots / recall{{ I <3> }} a.ka. we wanna get drunk even if these rent-paying-aboriginals can't sleep to get up to go to work bukra..and yes we do like it.

people, get over yourselves, but i have a fundamental issue with solidere still, issues, not one actually - but majorly, the abuse of potential. take the souks for example - i do not understand what the input was to start out with, thus to me the architecture is invalid.

was it built on crumbs of ''collective memory'' ? if so, than mr.moneo must have been out of the game, giving the job to a lebanese architect with minimum requirements of..teta having a glass of fresh juice at the old souk .. at least then, he would have part of these memories in his make-up that this project would start to make quasi-sense.

was it build on traces of the old souk? if so - then how? aesthetic traces ... but then, it mimics an image - not a typology. .. it resembles a possible ambiance but tagtails it - dangerous, i think, because it tagtails something extinct. progressive architecture is an element in the production of any city center, ms/mr solidere... what is happening now? i am not against learning from the idea of the souq - but the souq is not about the flip-flop curves and possible archades, it looked as such because that was their once-contemporary building technique...let me make me some coffee as you tell me about the contemporari-ness of this bulk of a mall, we call a souk..4,3,2,1..

i was born in tripoli, i lost myself in tripoli, and yes - there, the souk still exists - i know what a souk is, not as an archi-fart, but as a person, that used it for a while - and this beirut reminisce does not remind me of a souk - i cannot use it as one, it is too blank, too bleh - too diagonally tiled that it angers me even..potential..potential...lost potential.

the entabli fountain, yay!! ok - now what? casper and gambini's next to it? donc, the casper fountain..maybe in a couple of years -
how can i stumble upon this souq without using the intended circulation? how can i hide there..make-out there..get lost there - maybe play hide and seek..maybe seek sounds i need,
D&G? you can not be serious.

i feel like a preacher now, and i will not continue, before someone pacifies me with the i will stop, my only hope being the big plant pots to sit on - without the king's guards of the holy souk come to tell me to ..shooo..shooo peasant

Sunday, October 11, 2009

hello stars...

The idea of investing some extra cash to improve the look, feel, and atmosphere of your place will be very appealing.

There is good news, too, as Jupiter turns direct in your travel and adventure zone. This zone is also associated with higher education and publishing. If you've written a book lately or have been busy contacting publishers with your ideas, you should hear some good news soon enough.

A New Moon in Libra on Saturday gives you a great opportunity to begin a new relationship. This time it should blossom into something beautiful.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

are you fucking serious?

Ilene Barnes

YouTube - medley TIME / DEEP

{Beirut Jazz Festival 2009}

thx jo

“A failure is not always a mistake, it may simply be the best one can do under the circumstances. The real mistake is to stop trying.”
~B.F. Skinner

Copyright© 2009 The.Goodbye.Girl. All rights reserved.

All images, text, and content on this site are the sole property of The.Goodbye.Girl and may not be used, copied or transmitted by any means, electronic or otherwise, without the written consent of the author.

Thank you.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

have u ever felt like talking, but duno what about, and maybe you do but you dont feel like it - or going thru the hassle of censoring etc etc that you dont know what you wanna talk about and then you notice that you dont know what you want, but in the back of your head you are guilty of wasting your own time, possibly overthinking and telling yourself not to overthink, but you do it again and you forget what the fuck is ... aslan, who the fuck is taylor swift?

beirut jazz fest

WED. 07/10


Nicolas GIRAUD (Trumpet)
Toufic FARROUKH (Compostion / Saxophones)
Daniel ZIMMERMANN (Trombone)
Didier HAVET (Tuba)
Leandro ACONCHA (Piano)
Emmanuel HUMEAU (Ingé son)

Saxophone player and composer Toufic Farroukh has chosen jazz as his favourite idiom - a jazz bearing the colours of the Orient, reflecting his career as an artist with his roots in two cultures, and one who is open to all the different forms of artistic expression in contemporary society. Toufic began playing the saxophone at an early age; he studied music at the Ecole Normale Supérieure in Paris, and today he collaborates regularly as a composer with the department of modern dance at the Paris Conservatory (CNR).

Although resident in Paris, Toufic keeps a watchful eye on Lebanon’s cultural scene. He composed music for films and documentaries about his homeland, and appeared as a guest saxophonist on several albums by well-known local artists. His own musical output fully integrates the various influences at work in his life, creating in the process a unique and utterly authentic sound-world.


Walid Itayim (Guitar / Vocals)
Alain Ajouri (Guitar)
Munir Khauli (Bass Guitar)
Mazen Siblini (Keyboards)
Emile Bustany (Drums)
Jad Abi Haidar (Lead Vocals)

THU. 08/10


Walid Tawil (Drums)
Raffy Mandalian (Guitar)
Carlos Abou Chabke (Bass)
Tom Hornig (Saxophone)


Mark Fisher (Keyboards)
Mark Reilly (Lead Vocals)
Karl Van Den Bossche (Percussion)
Nick Cohen (Bass)
Tony Remy (Guitar)
Simon Finch (Trumpet & Flugel)
Andrew Robertson (Drums)
Andrew Ross (Sax & Flute)
Weston Foster (Background Vocals)
Hazel Sim (Background Vocals)
Alan Branch (Sound Engineer)

Formed by members of modern jazz ensemble Blue Rondo a la Turk in 1982, Matt Bianco evolved into one of England's top jazz-pop bands. “Get Out of Your Lazy Bed” and “Half a Minute” were massive hits in 1984, while Matt Bianco’s rendition of Georgie Fame's “Yeh Yeh” received a European music award as Best Single of 1985.

FRI 09/10


Hani Alayli (Band Leader / Guitar)
Elie Farah (Vocals / Harp / Guitar)
Abdo Sadek (Vocals / Keyboards)
Issa Ghorayeb (Saxophone)
Julio Eid (Bass)
Fouad Afra (Drums)


Ilene Barnes (Bass Guitar / Vocals)
Alvaro Bodenhofer (Guitar)
Jean Baptiste Ferre (Piano / keyboards)
Javier Estrella (Drums / Percussion)

Ilene Barnes was born in Detroit, USA, and spent her childhood in Surinam, Barbados and Jamaica. She began playing the guitar in Barbados before moving to Europe in the 1990s.

Ilene started touring in 2000 in support of her first album, Set You Free. Her 2nd album, Time, was released three years later, and highlights her intensely personal style, amidst reminiscences of Nina Simone, Joan Armatrading and Tracy Chapman.

Following the unprecedented success of Time, Ilene started touring extensively and became a regular fixture in major European festivals. She performed in more than 15 festivals in France alone, playing a total of 400 dates between 2003 and 2008.

SAT 10/10


Arthur Satyan (Keyboards)
Raffi Mandalian (Guitar / Percussion)
Abboud Saadi (Bass Guitar)
Fouad Afra (Drums)

Arthur Satyan was born in Yerevan, Armenia in a family of leading Armenian composers. His father introduced him to jazz and piano at the age of four. Upon winning first prize in the Composition Competition between local music schools, Arthur decided to turn pro, and joined the Komitas Armenian National Higher Conservatory of Music at the age of 20. He graduated in 1998, and over the next few years developed into Yerevan’s top piano man, working with several combos and big bands.

In 1996, Arthur was invited to Beirut for the opening of the biggest casino in the Middle East, Casino Du Liban. In 1998, he was appointed to the faculty of the Lebanese National Higher Conservatory of Music in Beirut, where he currently holds the title of Professor of Classical Piano and Dean of the Jazz Department.

Arthur has been performing and touring with his own Arthur Satyan Trio since 2002.


Karen Ananyan (Keyboards)
Manuk Ghazaryan (Keyboards)
Levon Puchinyan (Trumpet)
Artur Grigoryan (Saxophone)
Hasmik Martirosyan (Saxophone)
Alina Hakobyan (Flute)
Vahram Davtyan (Trombone)
Gagik Malkhasyan (Duduk)
Hakob Ordakyan (Drums)
Hayk Shakhkyan (Dhol)
Narine Nikoghosyan (Violin)
Nune Vardanyan (Violin)
Hamlet Shaghoyan (Guitar)
Artur Nazaryan (Bass Guitar)

The KOHARAPAYL Ensemble began as KOHAR Trio eleven years ago, and is currently comprised of 13 artists whose musical performances and talent are distinguished in their respective genres.

KOHARAPAYL's young musicians have endeavored to showcase Armenia’s national and folk music, meticulously adhering to its roots, and infusing it with modern arrangements. The band’s latest CD, Avant-Jazz, integrates jazz rhythms in the mix, and provides a new vigor to Armenian popular songs.

SUN. 11/10


Randa Ghossoub (Vocals)
Tarek Yamani (Piano)
Miles Jay (Double Bass)
Samer Zaghir (Drums)
Jeremy Chapman (Saxophone)

Lebanese singer Randa immersed herself in the Jazz genre from an early age. Born in Lebanon, she is today the result of a genuinely multicultural background, having spent time in Africa, France, the United Kingdom and residing lately in Montreal, Canada.

Randa’s proper career as a singer started when she travelled to Miami in 2002, and recorded her first album, Pillow Talk. The album’s success sent her touring in various locations across the planet. Her singing itinerary is paved with remarkable meetings, including such great musicians as Ziad Rahbani, Jesse Jones Jr., Charlie Biddle, Arturo Sandoval, Ingram Washington, Chuck Mangione, Zeb Billings, Jimmy Dale, Jack Gregg, Steve Philips, and Cuban band Asere.


Freddy Cole (Piano / Vocals)
Curtis Boyd (Drums)
Randell Napoleon (Guitar)
Elias Bailey (Bass)

Freddy Cole's illustrious career has seen him move into the front ranks of America's homegrown art form, with a style and musical sophistication all his own.

Born in 1931, Lionel Frederick Cole is the youngest brother of famous vocalist Nat ‘King’ Cole. He started playing piano at the age of five, and was already playing and singing in Chicago clubs as a teenager.

Moving to New York in 1951, he studied at the Juilliard School of Music; obtained a Master's degree at the New England Conservatory of Music, and spent several months on the road as a member of a band that also included Johnny Coles and Benny Golson. Freddy’s first single, “The Joke's on me”, was released in 1952 on a Chicago-based label.

Cole currently leads a trio that includes guitarist Randy Napoleon, drummer Curtis Boyd and bassist Elias Bailey; it regularly tours the US, Europe, the Far East and South America.



Monday, October 5, 2009

Saturday, October 3, 2009


خس + بطاطا + رمان + دبس رمان + خل أبيض + بهار أسود + ملح + زيت زيتون

Friday, October 2, 2009



ولكن إلى أين ؟؟ سأذهب ولكن إلى أين - أوضحت الأمر - أصبح واضحاً، جلياً - سأذهب - فإني ذاهب ... أنظر- إلى ظهري - ظهري وهو يتوارى .. يتوارى إلى ...أين - سأنصب أيناً في هذا العدم - لأنك لن تقول لي إلى أين - ولم تقل لم. لم أسأل - لن أسأل - فربما وأنا ذاهب - ربما تركض ورائي - ربما - ولكن إلى أين؟ لن أرجع - أريد الرجوع، لكني لن أرجع ...مع إن لن أصل إلى أين - سأذهب عارفٌ إن أينما جثيت، لن يكون أين جثونا - عارفٌ إن أينما طربت، لن تكون موسيقاي، أينما بقيت، لن تكون كتفي - لن أرجع عندما تنادي - مع إن أريد الرجوع - إلى أينك - فهناك ..صنعنا أيني

لأطارد عطارد

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

when bellucci cries

i just watched [ricordati di mi] a man, has written a book for his lover - they part, they meet after both are married - he reads her the book, in her eyes, she knows - he knows she knows - they part

مقطع من لأطارد عطارد
أعشق القمر - لأننا نستطيع رؤيته سوياً - ونحن كلٌ في همه - كلٌ وعقره - كلٌ في مكانه - أنت لست معي - أنا لست معك - نرى القمر - نراه يكبر ليصغر - نراه يولد ليموت - لا أريدك أن تموت قبل أن أموت - لست مستعداً لإختبار ما بعدك - لست في عجلة لأخلع ذاتي - لست مستعداً لأي شيء - تنفس بقربي أو بعيداً - فقط تنفس - تنفسي لي..

Monday, September 28, 2009

embrace the martian - enemies in my post happiness

can i be happy please, when you cry
because, sometimes you are, when i cry

please, can this be our little game
when you cry, when this cries
this little thing they name, i dont

nameless cries, taste of augmentation
our lost time
this time

our lost time

because this time, i wont lie
ill tell you - this time

that when you cry, ill make you coffee
ill make my lap, you'll put your head

ill tell you - of next time

Sunday, September 27, 2009

tom waits by david lynch

stumbled upon this [ ] on [ ]

Friday, September 25, 2009

[fetish systems] - unpublished

[...] So, ‘what do you do?’ – deflates my polymath arena into a white ceramic cubicle, and the sounds of interrupted privacies behind paper-thick walls. ‘what I do’ becomes a consequence of rhythmic flushes – expected spontaneity. I am – now – one of everyone behind locked doors – attempted artisanal execution in secrecy – where the flush knows for a fact that what I am doing – what I do – is to surrender to, not do – to spectator consequence participating in the communal impregnation of an stagnant epidemic sewer.[...]

Thursday, September 24, 2009

beirut, where are you?

beirut loves me
i love beirut
we love each other

gemmayze closes at 1 on thursdays?
monot is alive because of karaokes
and behind the green door let's you in only if wearing pants, gents
i want skimpy drinks, i think its known - no? that..em,
alcohol is made to skimp - so why ban it

i guess, its also known that beirut loves me
and i love beirut
but still
it closes

it's good i have a bedroom

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

in pursuit of pleasure

not happiness - pleasure
in pursuit of desaturation, of self - via dilution, of else
no, i cannot care less about happiness -
in pursuit of terminable lusts, temporary uphills - to stumble

humiliation, mutilation of extravagance
suffocates self

in pursuit of pleasure - not happiness
self, desaturates

in pursuit
focal is lost
must be lost
reference dust

ductility thrust

and i still, don't know how to jump
head first

teach me




Sunday, September 20, 2009

Friday, September 18, 2009

they watch football - 120cal labneh

Stay alert, because you are likely to make a remarkable acquaintance today. For months, you have kept your relationships at a distance, as if you were waiting for something or someone special to trigger a major change in your life. This is a promising day for just such an encounter. As for more prosaic matters, your frustration is likely to intensify. A date with that special new friend might be just what you need...

Im alert, but they watch football, everyone watches football.

Yesterday, my mistress was naked, a bit more than usual. Quiet, a bit more than usual. Her dresses, they tore down. My mistress, yesterday - was naked, a bit more quiet than usual.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

moka-driven piece of info

Alfonso Bialetti is the grandfather of Alberto Alessi of Alessi (the famous Italian design house).

lexo lexo loxtanil [a song]

flexys everybody
felxys like it hot
lexo lexo
lexo tanil what!

yes you want it
hypnotic sedation
lexo lexo
lexo tanil invasion!

"It does not possess any antidepressant qualities."
عفواً ؟

you dont want want it
no more
i know
me neither!

but oh, let's
flexys flexys
flexys cuz we can
abuse - abuse it
yes we can

"According to many psychiatric experts Lexotanil has a greater abuse potential than other benzodiazepines because of fast resorption and rapid onset of action."
أنا أحبه !

*genre: bad rap*

Additional information about Lexotanil

Lexotanil Indication: For the short-term treatment of insomnia, short-term treatment of anxiety or panic attacks, if a benzodiazepine is required, and the alleviation of the symptoms of alcohol- and opiate-withdrawal.
Mechanism Of Action: Lexotanil binds to the GABA receptor GABAA, causing a conformational change and increasing inhibitory effects of GABA. Other neurotransmitters are not influenced.
Drug Interactions: Not Available
Food Interactions: Not Available
Generic Name: Bromazepam
Synonyms: 7-Bromo-5-(2-pyridyl)-3H-1,4-benzodiaxepin-2(1H)-one; 7-Bromo-5-(2-pyridyl)-3H-1,4-benzodiazepin-2(1H)-one; Bromazepamum [inn-latin]
Drug Category: Benzodiazepines; Hypnotics and Sedatives
Drug Type: Small Molecule; Illicit; Approved

Monday, September 14, 2009

لأطارد عطارد

فقدت عذريتي معه، كنت في الثالثة والعشرون، يقولون أن المشهد كان غريباً - إنه كان مهتاجاً - إن كنت فيه - منتشياً.

لم أفهم سبب رجولته
لم أفهم لم اقنعوني به رجلاً
اقنعوه برجولته
لم يلد ولم يولد ولم يكن له
لم لم تلد ولم تولد ولم يكن لها؟

لم يكن رجلاً عندما كنت معه - لم يكن ذكراً - لكنه لم يلد ولم يولد - ذكر - لم اعتبر رجلاً - لم يكن ذكراً - لكنه لم يلد ولم يولد - مؤنث - فلو كان له كفواً أحد - فكنت قد فقدت عذريتي معهم - وكنت في الثالثة والعشرون


فقدت عذريتي، على الأقل ما بقي بتولاً من نرجس أحلامي - وأنا أنظر إلى السماء. فقدت عذريتي مع زهو قمر أحبته ليلى، ما لبث أن ركب ليلى حلماً، قمرٌ - أضحى قمرٌ رمز ليلة ليلى - بطولة أمةٍ تلعق قضيب أطلالها - سكر.


فقدت عذريتي، امامهم في المرآة - امامهم - أمام البؤبؤ والآخر - أمام الرمش والآخر - أمام الحاجب والآخر أمام عرقي - بين النفس والآخر - رقصات جفن آخر جفنٍ وآخر - لحب شبق لآخر - شبقة لأخرى - مضجع روحٍ لآخرة - منبع روحي - نعتوها كافرة



don't cry, its not worth it

it is not worth it, first of all, habibte - it is not, because it is not. it does not have a shadow, per se, your love has no shadow, habibte - do not cry, your cries, little shades of darker places on your white skin, when you cry, these tears, are worth more - may they evaporate...for they must not touch the floor.

get away from the window, it is not safe

let me tell you of a tale, not very far away - not very long ago, once upon the latter, habibte - they all lost their shadows. they told me, once - that adam and eve, stole two apples not one - that god has one eye...defected, that eve enjoyed eating apples, and adam - counterfecal

they all lost their shadows, when demons were made, or when god was made, angel plucks of collected glue, habibte - im telling you, we love pieces of us, reflections of what we lack - in people

you are not in love with him, but his posture, it reflects you - and you look at yourself naked, you think he sees you naked, but he owns not a shadow, your nudity owns not one either - for your eyes only can see definicies in

i know you prefer ginger tea, but coffee - is black enough, black enough for you to see the difference between yourself, and ceramic trees..

did you, last night for...

Sunday, September 13, 2009

you are the cause of my brevity

fuck you, you do not exist. i am sorry i thought you did. it was too much of a hassle, for you - mostly for me, but for you - my brevity, dear brevity, bravery forgot the smell of my.
just made some coffee - ill diss you later

Thursday, September 10, 2009

next to this

lies my pain
next to me

lays there
next to this

of me
of you
of this
of us

because they smell
of opium
we smell of
unshaved legs
of makers

we smell of
human sweat

we smell of skin
umbilical necklaces
shoe laces

of life

my pain knows
i need it
only when
im happy
only when
i need it

it knows
my pain

precise precision
little pain


chaos little
chaos more
chaos please

pain runs
my smell of
umbilical rust

of me
of you
of this
of us

animal fat
fingers -

finger lips
bite this

animal fat

my fat

i smell of


nothing but less
no more


smells of us

of pseudos
of something
close to life

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

when did we stop?

i think its not enough to pick up with the creative scene, we should pick up where we stopped

where did we stop?
me: a long long time ago
me: i think we stopped at different points in different modes of production, in music - we stopped when we stopped jumping and crying for a like of oum kolthoum - we stopped when we ddnt bow to an oudist -
when we stopped flirting in obscure poetry, when we stopped getting erections to tales of inescapable obsessions
we stopped with colored tv, we stopped with not loving crooked noses and big eyes - we stopped...when dancers became models and older women less disireable
in painting, we stopped when we thought abstract is ink blots - when realism became the depiction of kings
in sexuality, we stopped with islam - we stopped when we convinced ourselves of limits, that less is more
in science, we stopped with the invention of the pill
i stopped when i felt more comfortable to play with english
- felt uncomfortable to suckle arabic grammar -
we stopped when bentwood chairs became art objects, not seats - when we only drink jelleb in ramadan
we stopped,
we just stopped, stopped and leached

حديث شريف تحت فؤاد

ما تتأسف
بس أنا متأسف
ما فيك تتأسف
ما فيني أأمل، بس فيني أأسف
يا معين
أنا مش معين
الله معك
كل شي معقول
الله أكبر
كل شي مقلوب
الله يهديك
نزلني هون

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

digitus impudicus, mr artiste..


Artist is a descriptive term applied to a person who engages in an activity deemed to be an art. An artist also may be defined unofficially, as, "a person who expresses themselves through a medium". The word also is used in a qualitative sense of, a person creative in, innovative in, or adept at, an artistic practice.

Most often, the term describes those who create within a context of 'high culture', activities such as drawing, painting, sculpture, acting, dancing, writing, filmmaking, photography, and music—people who use imagination, talent, or skill to create works that may be judged to have an aesthetic value. Art historians and critics will define as artists, those who produce art within a recognized or recognizable discipline.

The term also is used to denote highly skilled people in non-"arts" activities, as well—crafts, law, medicine, alchemy, mechanics, mathematics, defense (martial arts), and architecture, for example. The designation is applied to high skill in illegal activities, such as "scam artist" (a person very adept at deceiving others, often profiting (semi-illegally) from other people) or "con artist" (a person very adept at committing fraud).

Often, discussions on the subject focus on the differences among "artist" and "technician", "entertainer" and "artisan," "fine art" and "applied art," or what constitutes art and what does not. The French word artiste (which in French, simply means "artist") has been imported into the English language where it means a performer (frequently in Music Hall or Vaudeville). Use of the word "artiste" can also be a pejorative term.[3]

The English word 'artist' has thus, a narrower range of meanings than the word 'artiste' in French.


The origin of this gesture is speculative, and quite possibly thousands of years old. A popular origin is that during the Hundred Years' War, the French would cut off the middle fingers of captured English archers so they would be unable to use their bows, and that after the Battle of Agincourt, the victorious English showed the French that their middle fingers were still intact.[1] This legend is also said of the V sign.

It is identified as the digitus impudicus ("impudent finger") in Ancient Roman[2] and reference is made to using the finger in the ancient Greek comedyRoman Empire and Greco-Roman civilization. writings to insult another person. The widespread usage of the finger in many cultures is likely due to the geographical influence of the

Another possible origin of this gesture can be found in the first-century Mediterranean world, where extending the digitus impudicus was one of many methods used to divert the ever present threat of the evil eye.

thankyouwikipedia, iloveyou