Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Your horoscope for March 31, 2010

Prepare yourself for a few days of long discussions, raafat. The planetary aspects influencing your sun sign are not always in complete harmony with it. Gemini has experiences without any preconceived ideas and he makes deductions that are relatively "objective." hehe Today, however, others will tend to introduce one belief and give one a goal. Who is right? You could argue about this question for hours!


if i take you from behind
push myself into your mind
when you least expect it
will you try and reject it

lyrics: http://tinyurl.com/y96khyh
video: http://tinyurl.com/yjwgo47

Thursday, March 18, 2010


An exhibit by Yasmeen Ayyashi exploring the form, or formlessness of an identity. An installation comprised of print, sculpture and sound.

The event begins on March 22nd 2010 at 6pm and will be held daily from 6:00 pm to 10:00 pm until April 2nd 2010. Formless will be held at an abandoned space a few minutes away from The Lebanese University for Fine Arts- Furn el Shebak. (General Shehab Street)

For more information, please call 71744871.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010


it has been puzzling me, for a while now, the concept of a layout. why does one work. why doesn't the other work. does either work, i mean is it a matter of taste or language? but i'm not talking just print. i cannot but persist on the fact that my SHIFT button points up to the CAPS LOCK, which is written in small caps, superseded by the TAB alternator. what is who trying to tell me?

but regardless, there are doors that open to the left, and others that open to the right - some in, some out - women with beauty marks on the left, some on the right - men with penile deviations some to the left some to the right - some in, some out - yet sanity makes sense to everyone else.

i am not drunk. although i just discovered that i am NOT allergic to alcohol. thank you jesus, mary, god & co.

Q you know what i remember most about layouts?
A george arbid skipping my layout assignment in his slideshow, "this is too messy", that was my feedback

but regardless, there are doors that open upwards, and others that open downwards - some in, and some out - in your head, it's yours, the web of things, the way things web, the woven non-truth that makes enough sense for you to believe. give me your hand, for i love your veins, and how i feel your blood traverse between my palm and yours, give me your hand, i want to take you to egypt and i want you under the sun.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

يلا تفيق

يلا تفيق

ندبحلك طير الفينيق

يا فينيق لا تصدق

عم اضحك عحالي


Sunday, March 14, 2010

so there's nothing better than pop to mainstream existentialism away. thank you youtube,

Saturday, March 13, 2010



"Serge is a Belgian photographer whose career began not in the studio but as a news photographer on the front line, covering the war in Lebanon."

Friday, March 12, 2010

when we play, good things happen.
what do you mean when you say a work is experimental - Fantastic arabian women are posing inside as they slowly strip to reveal their perfect bodies. Do you want full access to the largest softcore collection of naked arabic women on the net? you mean that the person thought in different ways than other people do to produce something that questions everything - or maybe that the work was not directly produced, middle eastern sex and extreme sex, plus lovely arab girls in traditional dress stripping for your entertainment. Click on the maybe the person tried a few things before the work reached the phase that would entitle you to point at it and say, ah - its experimental.
ok - i think you are stupid.

wlek yes...yes habibi, i am a pretentious fuck, and damn yes i can be that [shamelessly] because i want to.. because dear thing, all work is experimental - so experimental is not an adjective, it is a redundancy. if a piece of work has not been thought of, then it must have been a replica. general guideline I offer is that there is no right or wrong way to eat pussy there is a difference. go to syria, go to china, they know the difference, they are cool people.

i am not experimental.
and i want to make the same analogy on innovation. i don't feel like i want it to exist, for the same reasons stated above.
something new or different introduced
so it must be taken for granted. you are not special if you innovate. it is a requirement. this is not a cherry, this will not be put on top.

and as I sucked, he ate an egg as a way of fully optimizing the moment.

you can argue that 'artist' is a title, and other things - like, 'creativity' actually exist. do this in the privacy of your own home, or wait - no, do it out loud. i am staying home.

i do not have a conclusion.

Monday, March 8, 2010


so michel agreed to move in with me for a while. i begged. but anyways, it happened. i like it when things happen. things should happen for a change. so i lit his cigarette and kept mine pending until he would decide what we would talk about.
i was a bit phased out today, and i think that's why we didn't talk much. all i remember is him asking himself,

"what paths have brought us to the point where we are 'at fault' with respect to our own sex? and how have we come to be a civilization so peculiar as to tell itself that, through an abuse of power which has not ended, it has long 'sinned' against sex?"

and me making him coffee. i'm not sure if i was just stalling because i did not want to just agree with him. i think i was trying out a pretentious witty me, while pondering over boiling that goddamn pot of coffee - of whether he even demanded an answer.

i was thinking whether he would like it or not, and whether he would want to talk or not, whether i could keep up or not, but i just poured the coffee in the new little cups i got yesterday and walked to the sitting room. he wasn't there. i walked across the corridor to see that he took a raincheck on my coffee, and just fell asleep. i lit another cig and thinking of tomorow, what to show and what to hide, when to play and how - and if i could stop thinking of the things in his head when this burns out.

Sunday, March 7, 2010


before i sleep

so i got it. it's been a while that i've been sarcastic about everything. this post is an anomaly. i will return to my masks with the coming posts..so postpone your popcorn. this is for me & my blog, and im not sure why im even posting it. so this time i will not say we, i am talking about me, and i dont know if it applies to you. it's just that i end up hurting people because i am so potty-trained to do everything "right" and say things that get blue ribbons, and end up not understanding things, or just running away from reactions to an extent that i - dont react anymore. i am numb. i do not know what to react to and how. i am on the wrong track obviously.
i am not enjoying it-
anyways, excuse my whatever. this is just something i needed to let out before i sleep.


billy jean again


This started here [ http://tinyurl.com/yegc3nu ]... here to be more exact:

“3. While I found the first quarter of Sir Ken Robinson’s The Element to be wishy-washy, the last few chapters I’ve read were unexpectedly eye-opening. The chapter on the importance of finding one’s “tribe”, i.e. the set of people, regardless of proximity or even aliveness, who share your view of the world is in particular enticing.”

And now I feel like a Cookie. The thing is, as I have bored you earlier, I am not a fan of categories. I hate titles, labels and names. I will continue to bore you with this until you get what I mean. I do not want you to agree, I just want you to understand. I just finished my Cookie, and it was good – thanks for asking. So this is how I disagree; tribes collect people according to similarities. This is the first mishap. When you put people that think alike in the same tank, a.k.a. tribe, then the amount of information being transferred is tank-related, hence the production of a sewer.

A happy tale, sponsored by AL-AZHAR UNIVERSITY (without their approval, don’t ask):

Once upon a time, there was this little boy. He was not very lost, he just did not believe in God. He lived in a world where things were blue and green and buildings had domes, and every now and then they made sounds that make people dance the same dance all towards the same direction. He enjoyed the music, he didn’t dance. He just did not know why they were all doing it. When he became twelve, he was introduced to the book of answers, written by God himself, which he was now told to call Allah. He did not mind. His mommy and daddy were very proud. He was one of them now, he was one with the tribe. The little boy enjoyed the book of answers, it rhymed. As time strolled by, next to him, he became older and more aware of things. He had more questions. He asked his dad about the bag under his penis, and his mom about eyeliner, he asked his friends about why Playboy had girls in it and Playgirl had boys. He was confused. But they did not have the answers. He asked them about Asmahan, and they thought she was chocolate-based. His dad told him not to talk of things under his pants and his mom told him eyeliner was only for girls. His friends have never heard of Playboy, Playgirl or Asmahan. He decided to look in the book of answers.

He read and smiled, read and smiled, it was a nice book – but it made his questions sound silly. This is when he became a bit angry. He insisted, he asked and asked and everyone looked in the book of answers, the same book of answers that he looked for answers in, and found none. He grew a bit older, he did not understand what the bag under his penis was, but he did not care as long as he had special friends that enjoyed it. Some of them used eyeliner, some didn’t.

He did not know why Playboy had girls and Playgirl had boys as long as he would have both, and Asmahan found her way to him. There were more questions to ask. He wanted to know why he was born, not how. He wanted to know who Allah was, not what. He asked about the stars and cats and why dogs are not allowed in the house. And from behind the mountains, a genius arrived. He had the answers to this boy’s questions.

The tribe sat in a circle around a black cube and listened.

GENIUS: habibi little boy, why do you not believe in Allah the Almighty everything?

LITTLEBOY: because (interrupred by GENIUS)

GENIUS: don’t you see the world around you? The trees.. the stars, the cats..

LITTLEBOY: yes, I love (interrupted by GENIUS)

GENIUS: but you see – this is all the work of Allah, how can something be just born out of nothing? There should be something behind it – hence, Allah exists

LITTLEBOY: but you see – can something be just born out of nothing? There should be something behind it…

The genius felt proud of his little disciple, and so did the tribe. The little boy has found reason. He was once again part of the tribe!

LITTLEBOY: …so what is behind Allah?

The genius went back to behind the mountains, and the people of the tribe went back to their dances, to only one kind of music. The little boy typed www.google.com and started asking questions. His new friend, Google, was nice. It just gave him options that it called hits, and he would choose. Eventually, the little boy left the tribe and started writing new questions, to look for new answers, that will only be new questions, for other questions to come. The little boy smiled.


I feel like another Cookie. When would it be called binge-eating? Well, in a tribe-less estate, never. See? Anyways, the mechanism of evolution happens through discomfort, as opposed to comfort. When an entity is subjected to an obstacle, it accommodates itself to overcome it. It is therefore in constant dynamicity only in a heterogeneous medium – it is stagnant in stability.

I am selfish, and am not in favor of the common good as opposed to the individual, so a possible argument of the tribe helping each other to overcome hardships is not enticing.

Back to production, I am one that is in complete excitement when it comes to discrepancies of perception. It is a motor. In a tribe, this is limited, to none. When people have similar views, they tend to accept similar things, and repel from similar things. No one will be convincing me, and I won’t be convincing anyone. There is no assimilation, as opposed to deep-rooting of already found ideas, concepts and theories. It is a cacotopia of process, I cannot stand this! Give me that Cookie!!

So, what good is it to find this set of people that share your view to the world except a selfish need to belong to a confirmation of your ideas, and what makes you need that? Another tribe that devises a need for a norm. It is a vicious circle, of cults that make you think you are not introverted enough, scenes that make you feel not flamboyant enough, religions that make you feel not pious enough, schools that tell you that you are not good enough, all calibers that are not even interesting enough.

What good is a tribe, as opposed to a non-tribe. Let’s take the alternative of belonging to an oppressive synonym that puts you in a connotation. Let’s belong to nothing and be everything. I say we base ourselves on trial and error, on immediate reactions and uncensored responses to exaggerated stimuli. Let us test what we are made of, not be curated upon under thematic compliances. So now what is really making me happy is that compliances rhymes with appliances, and am wondering whether it would be more self-indulgent if I were an electric or a mechanical appliance. I am not sure.

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