Change will come through awareness, tolerance, education and the willingness to admit that hereditary leadership does not work anymore.
New blood is needed (not to be shed), but to take over.
NO to having my country's destiny tied to the ravings of a "divine lunatic" !!!!!!
The year is 1976, and the death counter is still rolling over fast. What follows is a mention of a few series of events (and not only death toll) which had in impact on Lebanon.
7th January : Battle of Tal Al Zaatar and Jisr Al Basha, numerous dead on both sides (over 2000).
16th January : Lebanese aviation (yes we did have one) raid over Khaldeh and Aramoun, 30 dead.
20th January : Damour massacre, 350 dead.
30th January : Ahmad El Khatib declares the creation of "The Army Of Arab Lebanon"
11th March : Failed coup attempt by Ahmed El Khatib.
21st March : Mourabitoun enter down town and take over the Holiday Inn hotel, 365 dead.
1st June : Syria intervenes in Akkar and brake the siege in Kobeyyate from the Army Of Arab Lebanon.
16th June : kidnapping followed by the murder of US Embassador Francois Meloy, US economic adviser Rober Waring and their driver.
21st June : The Arab Peace Keeping Force enters Lebanon.
27th June : The battle of the Palestinian camps started.
12th August : Death toll in Tal Al Zaatar reaches 2000.
17th August : PSP & PLO Shell Ouyoune Al Simane and Faraya.
28th September : Syrian and Christian forces attack Palestinian factions in Sannine, Aintoura and Mtein.
Tensions are running high lately and our nation’s future never looked gloomier. Speculation, analysis and even wishful thinking are polluting the blogosphere which I frequent daily. A new breed of even more FUCKED UP Lebanese has emerged and is utilizing the technology, we (children of the 60’s) never had in order to, not only foresee the future; but to make our martyrs roll over in their graves. Walid Jumblatt’s latest (but not last) 180 degree turn, Michel Suleiman call for all nations to extend the arm of friendship towards our sister in the north, and the latest army helicopter mishap; made my blood boil once again. That very same blood that I am more than willing to shed once again in order to ensure freedom and PRIDE for my son within the 10452 Km2 that was once this great nation of ours. The events are too numerous to count (but if I find the time), I will remind you of them, even in small parts. Therefore I will start with the following LOCAL historical facts (with no analysis and opinions) in the hope that I will have the stamina, time and courage, to see it through the end. Unfortunately there is no end, as we are still encountering the remaining of a war that did not end (la ghaleb wa la maghloub). So bare with me, my devoted (few readers) for this is nothing but the first part of many. Here we go counting the dead: 1975. 13th April : Bus incident Ain Al Roummaneh, Kataeb V/S PLO (from Tal Al Zaatar) 31 dead. 20th May: Dekwaneh, Kataeb V/S PLO, 24 dead. 27th October: Morabitoun take over Murr tower, no official accounts of dead people. 1st December: Israel attacks south of Lebanon, 111 dead. And this is only a few months within the start of the civil war. The following posts will depict my own recollection of 15 years of USELESS MURDER, one year after the other. But be aware that the conclusion will not fall short of a call to arms and total refusal to bow down to the present power. The power of the Hizb and all that it entails. Today I am no longer a pacifist, nor am I a bystander who is willing to look upon veiled women with a smile upon his face. Today (once again) I declare my own (Lebanese) “Jihad”.
Like the pine trees lining the winding road I’ve got a name, I’ve got a name Like the singing bird and the croaking toad I’ve got a name, I’ve got a name And I carry it with me like my daddy did But I’m living the dream that he kept hid Moving me down the highway Rollin me down the highway Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by
Like the north wind whistling down the sky I’ve got a song, I’ve got a song Like the whippoorwill and the baby’s cry I’ve got a song, I’ve got a song And I carry it with me and I sing it loud If it gets me nowhere, Ill go there proud Moving me down the highway Rollin me down the highway Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by
And I’m gonna go there free Like the fool I am and Ill always be I’ve got a dream, I’ve got a dream They can change their minds but they can’t change me I’ve got a dream, I’ve got a dream Oh, I know I could share it if you want me to If you’re going my way, I’ll go with you Moving me down the highway Rollin me down the highway Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by.
"Mother doesn’t know where love has gone She says it must be youth That keeps us feeling strong See it in her face, that’s turned to ice And when she smiles she shows The lines of sacrifice And now I know what they’re saying When the sun begins to fade And we made our love on wasteland And through the barricades Father made my history He fought for what he thought Would set us somehow free He taught me what to say in school I learned off by heart But now that’s torn in two And now I know what they’re saying In the music of the parade We made our love on wasteland And through the barricades Born on different sides of life We feel the same And feel all of this strife So come to me when I’m asleep Well cross the line And dance upon the street And now I know what they’re saying When the drums begin to fade We made our love on wasteland And through the barricades Oh, turn around and Ill be there There’s a scar through my heart But Ill bare it again I thought? we were the human race But we were just another border-line-case And the stars reach down and tell us That there’s always one escape I don’t know where love has gone And in this trouble land Desperation keep us strong Fridays child is full of soul With nothing left to lose There’s everything to go And now I know what they’re are saying Its a terrible beauty we’ve made So we make our love on? Wasteland And through the barricades Now I know what they’re are saying As hearts go to their graves We made our love on? Wasteland And through the barricades."
My favorite part starts with "the fool escaped from paradise". Many of Marillion's songs remind me of the Jester in me, until the lead singer ( Fish ) left the band I think in 1984. If you ever have the chance do check their music and their lyrics.
Almost everyday I check Blacksmiths of Lebanon 's page (amongst others), which has been idle for a while ( the hosts are on vacation). And from there I pick up links to news feeds (yes I am lazy). For a while now as soon as open their page and scroll down (just a few clicks on the mouse), I get the picture of a smiling Walid Mouallem. Please Blacksmiths enough already! Cut your holidays short and update your page, this has become torture.
Not in the best of moods once again; so I gave the jester in me the night off and replaced him with the prophet of doom. I guess that frequenting almost daily blogs dealing with Lebanese politics is hazardous to one’s mental health. Living in Lebanon can be hazardous as a friend of mine, David, discovered lately. No matter how hard I try to hold on to optimism and sanity, the forces of LOCAL evil always find a way of dragging me down. I had decided lately not to watch the local news in order to bring back a false sense of well being, but found myself drawn back into this cesspool of hatred that is the main ingredient in Lebanese daily life. I thought I was over David’s encounter with “Divine” Lebanese terror when I saw him with Nat and the kids all healthy; until by mistake, I watched an array of more bearded men giving me a clear view of what the future might hold. As if the understanding between Yellow and Orange was not troubling enough, a bunch of Salafists (if the terminology is correct) extremists joined in the club of those narrow sighted bigots. So I switched off the TV and decided to listen to some music. How appropriate it was that the first song on I heard was the Future by Leonard Cohen (An artist that is banned in Lebanon for being Jewish). At the risk of being labeled once again a “3amil” I will share with the few readers I have the lyrics and the song, which I dedicate to all the peace loving people who are as disillusioned as I am.
“ Give me back my broken night my mirrored room, my secret life it's lonely here, there's no one left to torture Give me absolute control over every living soul And lie beside me, baby, that's an order! Give me crack and anal sex Take the only tree that's left and stuff it up the hole in your culture Give me back the Berlin wall give me Stalin and St Paul I've seen the future, brother: it is murder. Things are going to slide, slide in all directions Won't be nothing Nothing you can measure anymore The blizzard, the blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold and it has overturned the order of the soul When they said REPENT REPENT I wonder what they meant When they said REPENT REPENT I wonder what they meant When they said REPENT REPENT I wonder what they meant. You don't know me from the wind you never will, you never did I'm the little jew who wrote the Bible I've seen the nations rise and fall I've heard their stories, heard them all but love's the only engine of survival Your servant here, he has been told to say it clear, to say it cold: It's over, it ain't going any further And now the wheels of heaven stop you feel the devil's riding crop Get ready for the future: it is murder. Things are going to slide ... There'll be the breaking of the ancient western code Your private life will suddenly explode There'll be phantoms There'll be fires on the road and the white man dancing You'll see a woman hanging upside down her features covered by her fallen gown and all the lousy little poets coming round tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson and the white man dancin'. Give me back the Berlin wall Give me Stalin and St Paul Give me Christ or give me Hiroshima Destroy another fetus now We don't like children anyhow I've seen the future, baby: it is murder. Things are going to slide ... When they said REPENT REPENT .”
If only this song was not written and sung by Leonard Cohen, maybe then my fellow Lebanese would get the true meaning ! TFEH!
Je ne vais pas mâcher mes mots, à bon entendeur salut ! Regardless of politics and the latest bilateral talks with our sisterly neighbour; I would like tonight to rant about MY own perception of Lebanon. Lebanon my country of origin, the Lebanon I once vowed to protect, the Lebanon I believed in. In the mid seventies, hell broke loose and many Lebanese took up arms. Each and everyone fought for what they thought was the Lebanese cause by “excellence”. Allegiances were made, broken, replaced; while Lebanese shed their blood (in vain). Hundreds of ceasefires were agreed upon, but never respected; hatred grew stronger. The Palestinians turned from refugees to main instigators of death and destruction in their vain attempt to create a state within a state (the Kissinger plan), the Syrian army switched from a member of an Arab Peace Keeping force into an invader. Even Somalia (via its mercenaries, thanks to the Iztaz and Amal) became a source death. Our neighbour in the south, one moonless night decided to join in the bloodiest show of force. Some (Lebanese) did see in the southerly incursion a way towards salvation and the establishment of their own vision of Lebanon. But this is war, one might say; all is allowed. All is allowed. Even snipers on roof tops being paid by the kill. People being tied to car bumpers (alive) and being dragged down the street until dead. People having their throats cut with a Boucher knife from ear to ear for belonging to a different sect. Entire villages and towns massacred...etc. Remember those days my fellow Lebanese; but also remember those who sponsored such terror (both local and foreign). Those are the same people whom today claim to have your best interest at heart. Guns, canons, mortars, ammunitions, shells, tanks, and hefty banker’s checks were given to us graciously by those who today claim to have our best interest at heart, and yes I am repeating myself. 10 years within our civil war, all conflicting parties knew that an absolute win was nothing else than a pipe dream. This fact did not stop them from further pushing Lebanon into the abyss. Our neighbor from the north waved its magical wand and the war stopped (invasion of Kuwait, Desert Storm, American foreign policy, Syria being the last Arab country to give its OK, Michel Aoun in the French embassy in pajamas...etc) and we became a satellite state for an oppressive neighborly regime. Meanwhile the biggest threat to Lebanon was growing stronger; Hizbullah was enjoying a free reign. From endless months of camping paralyzing down town Beirut and causing many business to close, to yet another divine victory when a child killer was freed; this cancer was further injected into the few remaining healthy limbs of our country. Wake up people of this once great nation, for M14’ers have sold out and Hizbollah has officially taken over. Do not expect much from the upcoming elections, Syria’s influence is once again predominant.
I live in the mountains in an apartment comprising of two bedrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen, Bath and a garden. The electricity I use goes mainly towards the following: TV PC always on Washing machine 3to 4 times a week 2 fridges A water heater on a timer from 5 to 7 AM and PM VAP mosquito killer at night Extractor fan over the oven when I cook Ironing And other NORMAL activities.
NO A/C
Today when I came home after a hard day's work the attached was on my door.
424,000 LBP (About 283 US Dollars) electrical bill. Last time such a gift was presented to me I called upon an electrician who checked the entire house and even changed the "resistance" on the water heater just to be safe. I was also told that there was no use in complaining as the electrical meter was properly read and accounted for. My bills did go down after that but, were always above the average of ALL my neighbors (even those with A/C). EDL checked the meter and claims that all is working fine I think that every month subscribers are drawn like lotto, and EDL adds to their bills a few of those belonging to our "Divine Protectors" who until today refuse to pay their dues.
So do not be surprised if next time you come over, we will be drinking on candle light and playing guitar and singing in lieu of music.
What to say and how to say it without further aggravating the situation to those who were forcibly silenced. Shame on a nation that doesn’t protect its citizens from a blatant attack on their freedom! Shame on a nation that sits idle while its citizens are prohibited to do their jobs! Shame on a nation that doesn’t provide its citizens with legal recourse against barbarism! Shame on a nation that openly allow thugs access to its citizens private data! Shame on a nation that claims democracy and freedom to its citizens, but does nothing to uphold it! Shame on a nation that has a policy of turning a blind eye under the excuse of “avoiding conflict”! Although unaware of the details of this sordid affair, today I am once again ashamed of my Lebanese identity. To my friends at CB I apologize for my country.
The glow Around your face When you see The lightning race I know I'm very near And I can hear The thunder
A woman Of perplexity A woman For eternity A woman Of the land A woman For a man I'm down On my knees And I'm saying Please believe me
It's hard To fall out Of love Completely It's harder To find a way To come back Discreetly To speak Of things anew To weep In quiet blue
Brocade upon your bed Memories should fade At least of you A scepter Of ice and fire A specter Of my desire A girl-child Of such loveliness The woman Of my emptiness
A woman Of famed Renown A woman Who kicks the clown A woman Of the land A woman For a man
The times they are a changing, or are they? Mama took the gun away from me, for I wasn’t supposed to shoot it. But little did Mama know that guns could be borrowed, owned or hidden. Many were the roads taken for a man to be free, all drenched in blood and hatred; and the answer is still blowing in the wind. Mr Tambourine man and puff the magic dragon were daily visitors offering their services for free. The chimes of freedom rang loudly with the promise of a victorious dawn whilst in the rare moments of reprieve or sanity, lay lady lay and I want you brought some twisted humanity. We are, and will remain forever young for God has blessed us; and our wishes will come true. How many times did I say farewell to my darling just to see that another day was dawning. Death is not the end, is what kept me going along with my refusal to surrender to King Crimson’s Epitaph. Years later, and the blessed arrival of Tarek, to my dismay; a hard rain is gonna fall. Although my son Tarek is a fan of Dylan, I wish for him not to have to relate to the following song.
“Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son? Oh, where have you been, my darling young one? I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains, I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways, I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests, I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans, I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard, And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard, And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son? Oh, what did you see, my darling young one? I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it, I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin', I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin', I saw a white ladder all covered with water, I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken, I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children, And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son? And what did you hear, my darling young one? I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin', Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world, Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin', Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin', Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin', Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter, Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley, And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son? Who did you meet, my darling young one? I met a young child beside a dead pony, I met a white man who walked a black dog, I met a young woman whose body was burning, I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow, I met one man who was wounded in love, I met another man who was wounded with hatred, And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son? And, what'll you do now, my darling young one? I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin', I'll walk to the depths of the deepest dark forest, Where the people are many and their hands are all empty, Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters, Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison, Where the executioner's face is always well hidden, Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten, Where black is the color, where none is the number, And I'll tell it and speak it and think it and breathe it, And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it, Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin', But I'll know my song well before I start singin', And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.”
There is no reprieve from the stress of daily (Lebanese) life and from family ties which I thought I had severed a while back. The past month has been nothing but what I could easily compare to scenes from a B movie. Just when I thought “it was safe to get back into the water”, and having laid the dead to rest, Beelzebub raised it’s ugly (but familiar) head once more. I started to let go of my family years ago, after many failed attempts to hold a middle ground. My separation was finally successful (or so I thought) when I was neck high in shit and was left alone to my own demise. To the dismay of many I am still here today alive and kicking and living my life free of them all. But am I ? Painful circumstances have brought me back to my grandfather’s house in our little village in the south, where I still have vivid memories of a very happy and innocent childhood away from family feuds. My son of twelve, until this past Sunday, never knew that he had so many, uncles, aunts, cousins, great uncles...etc, if it was not for the anticipation of yet another loss. This past Sunday, most of my close relatives gathered in Selim’s (my grandfather) house in an attempt to bring joy to my uncle’s heavy heart (having lost a young son 3 weeks earlier). Tarek (and all the other kids in my family) were nothing but a bundle of joy who brought back life into what once was a vibrant home at the very end of quiet and quaint piece of Lebanon we claimed our home. There I also got reacquainted with my Godson, whom I haven’t seen for more than 9 years. When he first saw me and called me (Jokingly) Godfather, my heart crumbled. I remember how we rushed his mother to hospital his father and I when his was due to be born. I remember the look on his father’s face when his birth was announced. This joy I felt inside was somehow short lived when he told me that he couldn’t recollect much of the time we spent together in England (when I left he was not even 4 years of age); but my heart rejoiced when he made me feel that the bond we had is still stronger than ever. My son last Sunday had the chance the experience a part of what I lived every summer when I was growing up. My son last Sunday witnessed firsthand that he is part of an extended family. My son last Sunday had the time of his life. I wish for my son to nurture this new feeling of belonging, to uphold true family values; and not to fall victim to elderly misconstrued pride and vanity. No matter whom holds the deed to my Grandfather’s house now, this house has always been, and will always remain a meeting place for all our kids, and their kids to come. Jeddo Selim, your legacy will always live on, in my heart, and I know of others as well!
Oh happy day, for those murderous crooks we call politicians took turn late tonight, reassuring us (retarded inhabitants of a country called Lebanon) that they have finally reached an agreement as to the long awaited ministerial statement. Hallelujah ! The long awaited couple of pages filled with dribble and crap is about to be made public, for all of us (stupid idiots) to analyze and argue over. What will follow is and endless stream of opinions and ill founded studies as to what this statement (when adopted by the cabinet, or shall I say” kabbineh”) actually means. All parties are victorious. All parties have registered their own reservations in order to save face and not admit that they have been outsmarted by the greatest evil this land of ours (and of many others for what it seems) , has encountered throughout its long history. Nitpicking over a few words written in the language of imagery and vagueness by excellence, will never dispute the fact that EVIL has won yet another battle. And by evil I specifically point my finger (and the middle one)towards Hizbullah. As I am writing this text, the “ministerial statement” is not out yet; but I wouldn’t hold my breath, for I know for sure (and I am willing to bet my life) that it will fall short of every single iota of what we once called the Cedar Revolution. Most of, if not the majority of those morons we call Lebanese will actually believe that “national unity” is now at hand. Wake up you deranged, amnesiac, selfish, cowardly bastards and realize that the mere mention of the “MOUKAWAMEH” is a capitulation. An advertisement should be placed in the “al wassit”, reading : “A country is seeking patriots from all ages. Applicants should have a sense of pride and dignity, firm belief in the history of the motherland, willing to work long and hard hours for the benefits in the long term are well worth it. Syrians and Iranians need not apply.”
