The Lebanese Bile Duct Pumps Black

"The reasonable man adapts himself to the world, but the unreasonable man tries to adapt the world to him. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man." Samuel Butler

The Lebanese are the meanest, most hateful, spiteful, awful people. Love thy neighbor indeed! These people actually enjoy inflicting pain on each other and on any one else in their path. Inflicting pain can truly be called the national pastime of the Lebanese, after gambling, over charging tourists and road racing that is.

So here I am, suffering the pain of breathing the same polluted air they do, driving on the same roads, living in the same concrete jungle, suffering their foul manners. One would ask why I tolerate all these petty annoyances. The simple answer is I would gladly suffer the inept, smug and foolish Lebanese, I actually prefer them to any other tribe on the planet. I simply don’t like people that much, I don’t even like myself, so Lebanon seemed to me the perfect place to pitch my tent and pump my bile.

I think self loathing is at the heart of the Lebanese attitude. Few Lebanese really like themselves. We lash out because we can’t stand to be in our own skins. It’s so obvious really; just count the number of bandaged noses (after plastic surgery) as you walk down the street, or the number of women wearing jeans two sizes too small, or the number of bald men with hair plugs or hair peices(you can always tell).

So why don’t we like ourselves?

It’s complicated. We blame our politicians for all the mess our country is in when we, as a nation and individually, need to take responsibility for the mess, to enforce a higher ethical standard on ourselves, in our own daily lives and in our interactions with others, before we demand such standards from others. We know what we should do, but we don’t do it, we just go with the general flow, as immoral, unethical, bent and self destructive as it might be. So somewhere in our subconscious I guess we just feel a little bad about what we have to do to get through the day.

If a national dialogue is needed then it should cover the whole country and include every single one of us, we all need to talk things through and decide which path we want to take our country down and if we still want one country, or two, or three… People's committees need to be set up in every town and village to take note of everyone’s concerns, observations and needs and to draft a plan of action.

A state of emergency needs to be declared, the army placed under the authority of these “people’s committees” and every able man, woman and child drafted to help in whatever way they can, translating ideas into actions without delay. No antiquated regulations, no revenue stamps, no cabinet meetings, no parliamentary deliberations, just action to save a country mired in its own bile.

Yes, I say suspend democracy, because no national salvation is possible in a democratic mood, when the wealthy few, the political pressure and interest groups, the feudal lords, can disrupt or slow down the whole process through so-called democratic mechanisms.

We need action now, build new power plants, new transmission lines, stop talking about it, just do it! Build a state infrastructure that leaves no segment of society wanting, no businessman or investor crying, build it now! Let every man and every woman have a vote, a real vote, a real say in affairs. Bypass the antiquated feudal structure, the ottoman bureaucracy, let some sunshine into those long buried files, let there be a real national reconciliation, let every one own up to their actions. Only then can we say our civil war is truly over.

But in truth, we all like it the way it is now, we really do, trust me. Not taking personal responsibility is the easy way out for us you see, this way we can blame others when things fail, sit at home by candle light and wait for the government to fix it all! I know what I suggest may sound revolutionary, but revolution really just means action, like your engine’s rpm (revolutions per minute), it implies movement, shaking things up a little. Movement in any direction would be a good thing right now. So let us commit to a single direction, a plan of action and actually take action, maybe then we might begin to like ourselves again.

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OBSERVATIONS
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We have somehow convinced ourselves over the years that we, the Lebanese, are better than everyone else and superior in every way, which is not only rude to claim it’s not even true. All third world immigrants to the Americas, Europe and Australia have over the centuries consistently proven themselves hard working, ambitious, resourceful overachievers, this is the way they are and it is often why they leave their homeland in the first place. Lebanese migrants over the centuries make up only a small fraction of that immigrant population. The Lebanese at home, on the other hand, seem to display the same level of ineptitude, small mindedness, and unoriginal thinking that makes the rest of the third world what it is today.

Cigar Fumes are a real nuisance, in a bar or office, the smell lingers long after the smoker leaves, so getting a face-full of cigar smoke while walking down Hamra reflects a pinnacle of bad taste on the part of the insufferable puffer. Rules of conduct in polite society dictate that people should be mindful of others whenever exercising their personal freedoms. It may not be a law carved in stone, but it helps define boundaries that must not be crossed, like my personal space. The rule is: Do not invade another person’s personal space even just with your cigar smoke.

We squeeze our vehicles between layers of traffic each day; inhale a thousand cancerous chemicals pumped out through engine exhausts; suffer the arrogance, bad temper and unsafe driving habits of fellow drivers and all to earn a few measly Liras. Why do we do it? Some have no choice, some think they have no choice, others actually made this their choice, took the leap to come back to their homeland and their roots, to live and work in Lebanon. The only problem is the Lebanon they came back to, the Lebanon of their day dreams, of their parents’ bed time stories, no longer exists. In place is this chaotic smelly mass of people who can’t stand each other.