Pink Floyd Heads

13 Aug

In Egypt we are more prone to put anything on a pedestal. We think of our selves as the center of existence, thus the rules do not apply, and that in part explains why someone could spend all day barking after broads but outburst in fury when the shoe gets on the other foot. We like things to be epic, and we are ready to stake our credibility on jive. Naturally, Pink Floyd is the perfect fit for all that, and then some more.

Pink Floyd resonated with us like no other band. They struck a chord and morphed into this representation of Egyptian despair, embraced for all the wrong reasons. They also inspired the worst kind of wry arrogance amongst my peers, and that’s when things started to crumble. See I never heard Pink Floyd before I meet their fans, and they are the worst group of douche bags out there.

I couldn’t care less about the band. my beef is with the fans. I’ll admit to liking the some of their songs; My 17 year old self woke up one day to “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” playing on the radio and thought it was fucking badass. I also had a similar experience with ABBA’s “One Of Us,” so that might things in perspective. I think “Dark Side of the Rainbow” and “Another Brick in the WALL-E” are like the coolest thing ever and that Arabic version of comfortably numb is wicked awesome. But enough yakking, this is about Pink Floyd heads.

Some of common traits of the PF head business:

  1. With Pink Floyd above all of course, they tend to favor some other bands like Led Zeppelin, Scorpions, Metallica, Guns & Roses, Airosmith, Gary Moore, The Doors and basically any band that would play in a typical mid-nineties Episode of “The Midnight Cartoon show.”
  2. Having long-winded tales about shitty PF trivialities as their go-to topics every time they open their mouth.
  3. Not listening to any music made after 1990
  4. Having a condescending tone and inducing a I-wanna-kick-the-shit-out-you like compulsion.
  5. Doing Drugs (there are some exceptions thoguh).

See, I grew up with these mother fuckers putting me down, telling me I know nothing and I am musically crippled. They would look at me all gooey eyed in pity; How sad it is that I am gonna live my whole life without experiencing this flux of bliss, and at first I bought into their bullcrap. But much like finding out that your dad wasn’t the precocious boy wonder he claimed to be, I saw through their lies, and Just to prove a point, from now on,  when people ask me about this blog I am going describe it as the Pink Floyd of Egyptian blogs.

Cellphone Boomboxing

11 Aug

Using public transportation is embarrassing as is. In Egypt your means of transportation is an indication for your class, oh you can mask it by saying you’re trying to be more green, or you hate parking, or that you’re trying socialism for size, but the truth is no one would dare set foot in those dutch-ovens unless he had to.

My biggest beef with public transportation isn’t how sweaty stink or crowded it is, it’s these fucks who take out their cells and blast there favorite jam with complete disregard for the rest of the passengers, the balls on them. Nobody seems to mind though; within the working class sharing is accepted if not celebrated, but this ain’t no satellite hookup or ADSL, so why am I should I put up with this bull shit.

Sometimes people wanna share the love, and instead of playing a secular song they opt for playing the Quran instead. For them it’s a win-win, for me it’s my worst bus-riding nightmare. I don’t want to listen to Quran on the bus, and I hate justifying my bus-napping fetish to people, so I always end up with having to choose the lesser of two evils, either to man up , voice my complaint and risk coming off as an infidel, or shut the fuck up. I shut the fuck up.

Tony Robbins believes that people are drivin by six needs: certainty, uncertainty, significance, connection or love, growth, contribution beyond oneself. This list is incomplete because he forgot to add the most important need according to Egyptian people: To annoy the living fuck out of a person.

Arguably the lowest form of Egyptian self-expression, this behavior has its deep roots in the time old tradition of making one’s presence known. People must take notice of you or else why even exist? It’s the same drive that make some ass superimpose his name and email on comedy clips before posting them on you tube, or crediting trailer makers, or Egyptian actors being on every single frame of their one-man-show movies.

And hey guy who must listen to shitty songs on the bus, they’re called earphones, you’ll find them in the same box that your cellphone came in. And if you bought yours third hand for less dough than what you dish out on your hair gel, splurge an extra 5 on an earpiece, you’re the cock of the walk and you deserve a treat.

Me, Myself and Mega

9 Aug

There is a negative correlation between how easy is it to get laid in a place and the gayness of said place. Case in point, the billboard Ads Featuring adult men playfully sucking on ice cream cocks. These images (that I’ve grown to loath) are the dreadful conclusion to this summer Mega ice cream campaign “Me, Myself and Mega,” a campaign that maintained its self-set level of low standards all the way to the end.

I am flabbergasted that nobody else seems to pick on the homoeroticism of these Ads. Can you people even get more desensitized, or has this become our way of channeling our sexual frustration. Sigmund Freud realized that almost everything is about sex (although he understood that “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar”) and his words rings a billion times truer every time my eyeballs falls one of these Ads. In Saudi Arabia, boys fucking/sucking each other in high school is not considered gay but just a “phase”, a sexy rite of passage on your way of becoming a man. The way things are moving now I don’t think we’re that far behind.

Also, since I’m talking about my Saudi brothers, I wanna point to that shit-smeared look that our Ad-boys are busting. There are different schools of facial hair grooming, and that rough look is not exclusive to the gulf, but these homies have a different game. I can’t point my finger on it but I can smell that kabsa reeking from these stubbles and I don’t like it.

Now this campaign got its kick-start by a radio Ad, the one with the unmistakably seductive voice of a woman. When I first heard it I thought I must’ve left a Redtube window open or something–it’s straight up dirty talk, and her tone! she was talking on the It’s-time-to-fuck frequency. It’s like that Bill Hicks bit about the perfect ad, a woman holding a product while sitting comfortably in the nude. See, when a guy gets in that zoon, part of his brain shuts down, and it’s the same part that tells you not to photoshoot your self in such compromising position.

Anyway, this isn’t about the big picture, this is about things that makes you stop, things that when combined create what is greater than the sum of their parts. This campaign, along with other cultural pillars, are all poisoning the air with their lethal paradox, one that suggest to guys that fagging out to impress a lady is totally legit—I call bullshit.

Cussing in Arabic

4 Aug

Wesley Willis is the shit, his songs are like hugs wrapped with love and dipped in tenderness. He tells it like it is, using crayons made out of panda dicks and ibex bootyholes to paint his pictures. Hearing him holler about Saddam Hussein’s ass or tasting a mountain goat’s anus always perks me up. The guy has his way with swearword and we all can relate; Peppering your speech with F-bombs and S-bombs gives it a sense of edge and urgency. Yet, something most definitely gets lost in translation when you shift gears to Arabic.

If I didn’t know better I could’ve sworn that Arabic profanity have the ability to summon demons that fart Lord-of-the-Rings Balrogs, it could open the gates of hell on itself and turn all existence into pure concentrated agony. The sounds these words produce is so potent, whoever is wasting their time trying to find a cure to cancer should drop that shit and study their vibration, it holds the key that is going to unlock some end-of-the-world kind of shit.

As a rule of thumb, one should keep his potty mouth tendencies to a minimum when conversing in Arabic. One should only make do with the wholly trinity, A7A, Kos, Bedan. Ars, Sharmota, and Khawel are also acceptable but should be used sparingly and only for emphasis. Under no circumstances should one ever try to get creative using such words, don’t mix and match, verbalize, coin new phrases, or make analogies using them. That goes double for the ladies, if you break these rules you’re automatically demoted to a whore. I know it’s super sexist but these are the rules, I didn’t make ‘em but I sure as hell take them into consideration.

I suppose there is only one instant of casting a K word came to be one of the sweetest things to ever grace the servers of youtube. Only a sprit as pure as Natalie Portman’s could utter such filth and make it sound so heavenly (have no idea what I’m talking about? check Natalie Portman’s favorite word). It’s simultaneously mindfucking and super cute.

I can’t foresee a future where Arabic Cussing gets trendy, the odds are all stacked against it. Oh attempts have been made, but it’s just not possible. Something is fundamentally wrong with the music of said words, you can’t tame them, and even divorced from their working class association they are just too raw for human exchange. Or maybe I am clueless, maybe when movies finally reflect the raunchy reality we live in Arabic vulgarity well finally get its fair chance. Until then keep the shakher to a minimum.

Tamer Hosny

28 Jul

I was listening to Dan Savage’s podcast the other day and some asshole was letting his dog lick the jizz out of his hands. “He seems to like it,” the guy said, but that doesn’t make it right. Just because something is so good you want to lick it doesn’t mean you should. Thinking about Tamer Honsy later that day it was obvious that there was a correlation. Both the cum licking dog and Tamer Hosny fandom have one thing in common: They are gay as fuck.

Tamer Hosny caused a steep rift in our nation’s solid rock, more so than Shiites and Sunnis did in Iraq. It would make more sense to mull over the Facebook honesty box or the proper way to read car plates (is it left to right, or right to left?) Following Hosny’s first Free-Mix release people got divided into those who love him, those who hate him, and those who wanna snatch that fucking guitar out of his hands and shove it all way up his shitty ass. No one was left undecided.

Why is it so easy to pick on the guy? Why are so many Facebook groups, angry TV hosts, and wordy articles filling the newspapers bitching about him? Well, he’s practically asking for it; Releasing two movies just weeks apart, having posters on the street that outnumber those of an entire election campaign, and his face uttering the shittiest shit on every fucking TV channel. He’s such an attention whore who just won’t leave you alone and, as anybody that has piled it on him knows, it feels balls out awesome.

Tamer didn’t earn his flock of fans by embracing the fake-it-till-you-make-it stance alone. The motherfucker can push some buttons. For the guys he’s the cocky underdog, and for the gals he’s the crackpot romantic douche; both of which are equally relatable and misguiding. A stint in prison for avoiding conscription helped milk some sympathy too, more so than it did for his partner in crime Haisam Shaker (but that may be due to Shaker’s crass inhibitions). It added to the allure and gave birth to one of the best home-brewed fashion trends: the “We Miss You Tamer” t-shirt.

Arguing how misguided kids are for admiring such a shady icon is a tiresome and flaky argument. There will always be a need for an asshole to fill the teen idol role and for hormone-driven teens to obsess over him. Dealing with the trauma of having been such a fan (and the realization of how big of a loser you were) helps build character. I just wish those kids could have someone with at least one ball; maybe someone with a less conflicted saga: The macho-metrosexual-fag in search of pussy.

All this Tamer lovin’ (for more be sure to check out Tamer lovers) is nothing if not misplaced affection, and Tamer is a byproduct of an insular pop culture that celebrates its mere existence. It’s sad for the kids to have him as an outlet for their frustration, so can we please let them fuck already?! They’re one gay pube shy from publicly jerking off to TH posters on the 6th of October Bridge. You think it’s jammed now? Just wait until the Tamer Hosny J.O. parties break. And hey Tamer, Michael Jackson just like totally died and your pulling his rig out. Dude, show some fucking respect.