Persiflage & Paroxysm

We are a battered society. Even those doing the battering are damaged goods. The moment I understood that I forgave them all their faults, their angry outbursts, their displays of road rage, and their twitches and ticks. Here, of course, I refer to psychological battery and bullying From the moment we are born our lives are surreptitiously steered towards what society, our parents, our schools, our extended family, and the village believe to be the ideal standard. Our goals are predefined. Now, don’t get me wrong, the village here could be the ‘hara’ in a city, a cluster of people who form a cohesive unit, a village/ghetto inside a bigger more impersonal city. As Lebanese, we are not revolutionaries in our nature. Our perception of revolution is of a violent free-for-all. We do not have any positive ideas about revolution, whereas in actual fact, revolution and violence are not necessarily wedded to each other. Sudden and major change is revolutionary: imagine a jumbo jet banking right

I would first like to thank Ogero for the amazing ADSL internet experience this evening, the first and only time I watched uninterrupted streaming video at speeds that reached 36mbps. Whatever you are doing keep it up; I hope the new faster internet applies to all parts of the country. This shows what the Lebanese can do when they set their mind to it. Now for a national critique: A friend told me recently that she had long given up on Lebanon and the Lebanese ever changing their old, bad habits, that she has learned to live with what she cannot change. Others said they retain the option to leave at their discretion, i.e. when things get really bad or they cant take it any more, to board a flight to their second homeland, wherever that may be. For the lucky few, it could be off to Canada, Australia, France, New Zealand, the world seems infinite. For the poor, there’s always the Gulf. But it’s when we reach that point of hopelessness, a point when we reluctantly submit to and accept an

You haven't experienced Beirut if you did not get bullied on the road by a smelly, old, fumes factory that passes for public transportation in Lebanon. Some countries can feel proud of some of the modes of transport they pioneered, even nostalgic, but when our old Beirut buses are finally retired we will simply feel relief. Finally, we would breath clean air.

First, may I start by congratulating the Lebanese national football team for their victory today on the hallowed grounds of a sports city that saw a brave resistance to the Israeli invader back in our darker days of civil war, Tinzakar ou ma tin3ad. You gave us all hope that the Lebanese can work together to achieve great success, you have taught us and our politicians a valuable lesson in team work, something sorely lacking in our country. Second, my congratulations to our interior ministry and our police for apprehending suspected culprits in a string of murders of taxi drivers in Lebanon recently. Good job, and may you experience many more successes. Readers, I promised myself that I would try to find the positive in everything, that I would try to be fair when judging a situation and the attitude and behavior of the Lebanese in that situation, but I feel that without well aimed criticism no society can progress culturally or learn from its mistakes. I feel self criticism is vital f

To be honest, I would much rather see high minded intellectuals who believe in God, believe in the eradication of ignorance, and the ennoblement of mankind, in charge and steering the ship of state than verbose bullies whose only claim to fame are long robes of velvet and goldthread. Free masons and I, as far as I can tell, have similar aims: to wrench society from its backwardness, mired as it is in the swamp of ignorance, superstition, and fear, and bring it in to the light of a promising new dawn. I have more in common with men who are in awe of and view the universe as a wondrous architectural construct worthy of lifelong contemplation, than with men who proffer superstition, pseudo-sexual chastisement, and fear, and issue (not so) veiled threats of eternal damnation willy-nilly. Those with an imperfect knowledge of the subject, who spew ignorance, prejudice, and politico-religious dogma on the air, are hardly men worthy or learned enough to debate the merits or dangers of free mas

Hrair Diarbekirian, is an artist that needs no introduction, nor does his art, which is a mystical combination of exquisite beauty and a festival of colors bursting from the canvas. His work transports anyone lucky enough to stand before any of his large canvases to a world far from our own. The world we are taken to is one of sensual restraint, of charming poise, regal calmness, and of golden-haired princesses and angelic figures. From his canvases the unbridled force of wild horses seems to leap out with the force of a torrential downpour of color and extravagance. No holds are barred, and yet it is in the smallest details that this artist’s genius truly lies. It is in understanding the true magic behind a woman’s allure. It is not in tight fitting and revealing garments, as is so often mistaken for sensuality in our day and age, but it is, in fact, in revealing very little. I had the pleasure of meeting the artist early in my journalistic career. He held a press conference at the Cr