Ten Word Summary: The megalomaniac title says it all - this ain’t for you.
There is a reason why comedy shows are short and varied: Jokes wear thin. Imagine instead of attending a comedy show, you’re given the script and you’re expected to comprehend, appreciate, and laugh at it. It doesn’t work, unfortunately, most of the time.
Sure, the book has its moments, and the approach is fun and intuitive. But just like a fresh paint of coat that makes the room brighter (or in a book’s case, different), sooner than later the paint’s gonna stink and you’d be on your way to the nearest exit. This pretty much summarizes how you should go on about reading the book if you’re not planning to set your eyes on fire: Read it in short bursts. Just like a TV show, you can only handle so much before you find yourself flipping through other channels.
The issues “discussed” in the book are neither new issues nor tackled with any purpose but to extort any potential humor out of them. Which is great and is funny when done right. My favorite parts are the bits on religion and the vocab listing at the end. This of course makes pretty solid material for a 30 minute show, but the humor often fails to translate well, making the ones that do (in comparison) stand out are laugh-out-loud funny.
Bottom Line: You’re probably going to worship this book if you’re a fan of the guy, but the book’s content isn’t fit for the print media. Except for the cool stickers.
There are streotypes about almost everything in the world, but, let’s face it, some things are stereotyped for a reason: They’re only “politically correct” short of being facts.
The list below presents some of the people you will inevitably meet in the gym. If you have more to add, please do!
Ms. Cleavage
There is no doubt about it: It’s probably the number one reason why men are in the gym. Namely, it’s the number one reason why they tend to do cardio - because she is doing cardio. No one will ever get her, not even the most well-defined muscular guy. To us, she is a Goddess. To her, we are nothing but white noise. The worst part of all, is that she knows it.
Mr. Muscle Man
This guy eats his mom for breakfast. There is a whole range of men - from the flabby to the very fit - but this guy has tried every hormone and every protein shake to date. He’s your ultimate source of info (whatever he says, don’t do it), and the best guy to call when that barbell is gonna topple over.
The Ghost
For girls, it’s a guy, for guys, it’s a girl. The Ghost refers to a gym member who you can see enter the gym, but suddenly disappear. They’re no where to be found, not even in the locker rooms. They’re probably in a secret workout facility - that’s when you suspect that your “premium membership” isn’t quite as premium as you would have hoped.
The Loser at the Treadmill
It’s also a phenomena if your gym sports a lounge, seating area, or PC terminals. The Loser just happens to jump on the treadmill/sofa/PC next to you, only to strike up a conversation a couple of minutes later, and asking you to add him on Facebook. And when you don’t, he would ask why the next time he happens to bump into you.
It’s the 50’s
This is a group of women who work out for 10 minutes then spend the rest of the hour or two gossiping in whatever clearing they find. They discuss everything, from The Ghost to Ms Cleavage to their husbands to their idiotic maids or children. To avoid talking about each other behind each other’s backs, they all leave at the same time.
The Woman You Thought Was a Man
Ever had some tough weights to lift, and you go ask for help, and when the person turns around, lo and behold, it’s a woman? Yes. She’s usually a bit short, sports a boy cut and is quite muscular (for a woman) and can carry as much weight as any guy in the gym. She’s definitely not one to get upset.
The Hijabis
The Hijabis are an interesting bunch of girls. They’re always in their 20s, and almost always come in packs. If it’s a single Hijabi attending, she wears dark colors. If it’s two, they were moderate colors. The larger the group, the greater the variety in the clothig. They’re almost always occupying cardio, or in the stretch area carrying small weights, all while gossiping about something. Then post-exercise they replace the “It’s the 50’s” group in the clearings.
The Guy Who Know’s He’s Too Hot
This guy is worse than The Loser. He knows he’s too hot that even guys ogle at him, and hence he’s the most snobbish person in the gym. If you ask him for advice to get his great physique, he replies in obscure monotony. If a girl makes a pass, he ignores her existence. He’s after Ms Cleavage, who is also unaware of his existence. It’s the battle of the egos.
The Water Cooler Attendant
There are two types of people who attend the water coolers: Sweaty men with bulging biceps and panting women with tight asses. The former usually target incoming ladies; he pulls out a plastic cup, fills in water, and drinks like it’s his business, all while flexing. The lady attendant, on the other hand, is almost always busy leaning down to tie her shoelaces. You’d think she’s making braids when you visit the cooler for the 6th time during the hour.
The Groovy Personality
It’s usually the overweight people who can be quite jolly. The woman walks in - loved by everyone - and yells to everyone at the gym “how’s it shakin y’aaaaaaaaall?!”. She has so much self confidence she can pole dance without a worry in the world. She’s got amazing stamina but just can’t seem to lose weight.
The Guy With Severe Fashion Issues
This guy needs to buy new training outfits. He turns up always with a really, really tight shirt you can actually see the skin pores, and, more disturbing, a really, really tight swimmer’s shorts, with no underwear, and if your eyes are not skilled enough to avoid the nether regions you will be scarred for life.
The Narcissist
This is the person who, in the locker rooms, takes his/her clothes off slowly and deliberately, making sure everyone sees their bodies and curves. After a shower, they admire themselves in the mirror for prolonged periods of time. They check their newly upgraded bodies, their face, any new zits or freckles or left over lint. Then they smell their armpits, and carefully deodorize it. Then they blow-dry their groin (yes I saw it happen), and put on their well-ironed and well-folded clothes, also slowly and deliberatley. Then they pamper their hair and face and put on aftershave and whatever. It takes them more time to groom than it takes them to work out. To them, they’re the only people who exist in the gym.
The Hopeless
[hopeless to provide an image]
They’re a peculiar bunch, a category I belong to. The Hopeless are people who have been going to the gym while getting slow results (gain or lose weight). We’re hopeless to strike a conversation like The Loser. We’re hopeless to be groovy. We’re hopeless to have an ego war with Ms Cleavage or the Guy Who Knows He’s Too Hot. The only reason we go to the water cooler is to drink, and we don’t have people to socialize with - for us, gym is a business; you walk in, pump iron, and walk out. For a hopeless cause.
That’s what I have been called, according to a psycho-analyst:
This is a work of a genious, truly, not insane, but genious, indeed try to make something out of that talent, like inventing something that won’t kill us all, or a cure for cancer, you can do it.
I still didn’t go to prayer yet, but I already know what the Imam will be discussing: Michael Jackson’s and Farrah Fawcett’s deaths vs the recent Iraq bombing and Iran elections.
It’s such a classic topic discussed whenever some major idol dies (in the Arab/nonArab/Muslim/nonMuslim worlds). The other time when this Lebanese singer, Suzan Tamim, got shot in Dubai Marina, the Imams made a huge fuss about how everyone is investigating and mourning the death “of a singer whore” instead of investigating the massacres done against Muslims everywhere. Added to that, this episode is teaching our kids that pop idols are more important than our brothers and sisters in Palestine/Iraq/wherever.
What I find interesting that, though to no surprise, the Imams think of the Muslim problems to be the top priority and only to be solved. Sure, I don’t disagree they’re important. Massacres have to be stopped.
But during the du3a2 phase of the khutba, he doesn’t bother himself to pray for the starving and desperately malnutritioned in Africa. He didn’t bother to pray for the lost lives in the Sri Lanka tsunami, except explicitly mentioning he Muslim survivors. So, the others deserved it? Apparently, according to him - for the tsunami is the wrath of God of course sent to punich everyone there for some grave sin they’ve done.
Which grave sin? Sending in their women here as maids so they can feed the family back home, and you end up raping them? The tsunami should have gone the other direction. Our Muslim Imams need to wake up to life and start giving a better image of Muslims and stop alienating Muslims themselves from their own religion.
Yes, the world grieves that MJ is dead. I grieve too - whether or not you’ve been too hot about all his ‘odd’ things, alleged pedophilia or whatever, you can’t deny his music did something. Heck, most of my generation grew up on his music.
What will happen if Fairuz dies? Expect us to just sit quiet through it, because she is a “singer whore” and not a martyr? Maybe they will make an exception, she did sing an ode to Palestine several times.
It has been a long time since I got so pissed off at a movie. But let me begin the review by highlighting the positive things about it: All the bots still look terrifcly awesome and the explosions are, well, quite a blast so to speak.
Alright, with all that out of the way, let’s see why this movie totally sucked.
First of all, the story. Sure, these kinds of films don’t really need a strong story anyway. It isn’t actually that the story is necessarily bad, but rather how it comes together with the other negative aspects of the film, things really become ridiculous. The film picks up a couple of years after the first one. The Autobots (good guys) are allied secretly with the human race (ie USA only) to hunt down the Deceptions (bad guys). Things go awry of course when the hunter becomes the hunted when Sam (the main teenage hero) is in possession of some shard of the AllSpark, apparently something terribly important to the Deceptions. So everything goes afuss and big explosions happen.
things go boom a lot
Snoring yet?
Like I said, the story is sufficient to provide some action, which is what the film should be about. Unfortunately, lots of time is wasted in vain to flesh out the story or give background on certain Autobots/Deceptions that you really wouldn’t care about unless you’ve been avidly watching the cartoons and have memorized each and every bot’s background. Lots of time is also wasted in actual combat scenes. Though they serve the highlight of the flick, lots of the mech fights could have been made shorter, or skipped altogether. It seemed to escape the producers (both of which are good, which comes as a shocker) that most mortals can only handle so much action. It’s even worse when the battles make little sense, as you never know what really is going on until some crucial storyline event triggers in the middle of the fight to wake you up.
How long is the movie? It’s almost 3 hours long. That’s an overdose of long action no one needs.
Bad things don’t end there either. There are many gaps in logic. I completely understand that one should enter such a movie with suspended sense of belief, but there are matters you simply cannot overlook.
First is Orion’s Belt. When our heroes are in the Egyptian deserts, they seek Orion’s Belt to find the location of the artifact. As I recall, Orion’s Belt is somewhat horizontal, yet in the movie they refer to other three stars. I took the liberty to put an infrared filter to make the major stars more pronounced; the three stars encircled in white comprise the Belt, the three stars in green are what the movie tells you is the belt (click for bigger view):
it looks like a man with a penis
The next part is what drove me insane, which is that, according to the movie, the stars point to Petra. It’s as if by magic that they point to Petra, though it could be really any city within that line of sight. I will also overlook the fact that they were probably facing east or west (I don’t recall if it was dusk or dawn), so technically speaking Petra isn’t even an option.
The maddening part is that Petra is in Egypt.
everyone looked like that when Petra and Giza wed
There is no indication that the heroes went to Jordan. In fact, it is told in the story that the artifact is buried here in the deserts of Egypt (which looked a lot like Wadi Rum) and that the stars shall point at the location. Suddenly Petra is in Egypt. The next thing you know, a battle ensues around the Pyramids, and the heroes travel from Petra to Egypt within minutes of course to join in the battle.
Another odd aspect is that during the course of the battle, the Americans ask the Jordanians for help (the battle is in Egypt). Jordan sends in two choppers which instantly get blown up. The Americans then show power by sending their entire well-equipped fighter jets. There is also no sign of any Egyptian forces.
Speaking of which, why is Egypt depicted in the “traditional Middle Eastern stereotype”? What’s shown of Egypt, other than the ever-present athan, is some run-down ghettos. Sure, it’s the desert part of Giza, but seriously? Now I also have never been to Egypt, but I do know Egyptians do not look like Mexicans (nothing wrong with Mexicans) and that they do speak Arabic, not some jibberish which was actually subtitled to Arabic! And then when an actor says “we are from New York!” the security chief of the borders say “Ah! New York!” and lets them in. There is also a scene with all these posh-car-transformers driving alongside camels. And the slutty heroine suddenly sports a veil while she is running away from a bot (how she magically got the veil is never revealed).
Combine all of that with THE MOST ANNOYING SUPPORTING CAST(both robots and humans) ever seen in a film and you have a major recipe for disaster.
As a final note, for all movie directors, please when you make a battle scene, keep the time of the day consistent. I would understand if a battle begins by noon and ends in the afternoon. But you can’t have one scene at zenith and the other at sunset (for dramatic effect), and go back and forth between them.
I can go on with other issues of course but I guess you don’t need any more convincing that this is a sucky movie.
a perfect depiction of what you should be doing: running away from the theatre
Ten Word Summary:An empathetic story of love, faith and their ultimate loss.
First, I have to get this thing out of the way: If you’re the person who flips open a book, find it’s full of pictures, and shove it away, you need to give this book a chance. This is not a superhero comic. This is a mature graphic novel, deep in symbology, but mostly, deeply emotional.
Blankets is a graphic novel that tells the timeless tale of the first love, and not any love for that matter - the author’s/illustrator’s own first love. The story is a highly charged personal affair, blending many issues that everyone deals with - most certainly the bloggers I have been following - namely love, parents, obligations towards them and society, expectations, religious faith and devotion, self-loathing, and, between all of this: You.
Reading this graphic novel is like reading your own life, right in front of you. It’s beautiful not necessarily because of the story itself, but rather for the humanity of it; we all sport different personalities, different interests, and different cultures, yet emotions are what unite us all, and this book is painfully honest with them. Honest enough to remind you of the mental guilt trips and meshed thoughts that precede fornication, and the warmth of sleeping next to a loved one. It’s honest enough to show you how it feels like at the other end of the phone’s *click*. It’s honest enough to portray the internal struggle of shame vs honor vs expectations vs wants vs have-to’s. It’s honest to show the pain of divorce, the difficulty of having handicapped siblings, and parents who like to adulterate your childhood by forcing you to grow up. It’s just honest.
What fleshes out the story, though, is the art. I’ve read my share of comics and graphic novels - some of which were also mature - but the artwork here is wrapped around the emotions of the scenes. The creativity that comes with the symbology is beautiful. Juxtapositions in a frame between past and present, what’s being thought and what’s being spoken, and what is isn’t make the art inseperable from the text and emotions that flow out of both.
The book is thick at 580 pages, but I finished it in three sittings in one day. It’s immersive enough to warrant a reread of certain sections or chapters as well.
Bottom Line: It’s a rare gem you ought to have in your library. Recommended by giants such as Jules Feiffer and Neil Gaiman, what’s stopping you from picking this up?
Ten Word Summary:An amnesiac girl tries to get her old life back.
The summary may sound morbid, but if you know anything about Sophie Kinsella you would expect it to be chockful of blond humor. It has lots of those, but the amnesiac aspect of the story is a double edged sword that shows its good side mostly and rears its ugly side at inopportune times.
True to her other novels, Remember Me is quite a light read, making it ideal for a lazy summer afternoon. The English is plain and straightforward and the conversations seem quite “authenticly blond”, so to speak. So expect a lot of OMGs and over excited hormonal women jumping about.
The story is, at its heart, simple and inherently funny. A young woman named Lexi bumps her head and wakes up three years later from her coma, slim and sexy, straight white teeth, lives in an extravagant loft and is married to a super multibillionaire hunk. And she remembers nothing of it.
The book takes you on a journey with the facade of memory recovery, but mostly on a journey of self discovery. Given the fact that Lexi doesn’t remember how she got to that point, she lives her personality prior to the bump three years ago, while facing the challenges of being “the new Lexi” and all that comes with it. Friends who became enemies, and new friends who are shallow and rich and have nothing better to do in life but buy expensive vases. So Lexi embarks on a journey to discover how she got to accept this new life of hers and faces the decision of either sticking with this life, or reverting to her humbler roots. Throw in an insane mother and a secret love affair she doesn’t even remember, and you got yourself a toss up.
The story is pretty much predictable and obviously made with a movie in mind - which is where the amnesia part comes in. The situations Lexi goes through are inherently funny because of the amnesia, and her monologues are entertaining if a bit too blond. But the author rather abused the amnesia in critical situations when the story starts to reach its climax. Difficult issues that have been building up for some chapters (or pop out of no where) are dealt with a sudden flashback - improvised or otherwise - to save the situation, or, worse, with the excuse of the lack of memory to solve the crisis. It becomes punishingly annoying when this is combined with an incredibly blond joke. For instance, in one part, Lexi is addressing her colleagues when her rival senses the lie that she recovered her memory. He puts her to the test and things tense up, when suddenly she is saved by her sister screaming about Jude Law being shirtless across the street and everyone in the room flies over to the window.
A more serious issue, which I can’t spoil here, near the end of the book is dealt with in such a ridiculous manner as well. In fact, most of the events and relationship issues near the end of the book are dealt with in a rush, as if the auther sensed she can’t fit in more details in a 1.5 hour flick. It’s too aggravating to forgive, especially when lots of the issues have been building up so slowly and hilariously and they all just end in a dumb manner.
In any case, the book intends to be a no-brainer, and Lexi is, in fact, quite a charming and likeable character. An extra two or three chapters though to slowly tie the loose ends instead of rushing through events would have made the book worth recommending. Unfortunately that, with the abundance of ads for Louis Vitton and other expensive brands (which makes movie sponsoring easy), I can’t recommend the book though the girls would probably enjoy the movie if it comes out. I can already imagine Sarah Jessica Parker for the role.
Bottom Line:It’s enjoyable if you’re reading it for what it is, but will disappoint you if you’re looking for more.
Just a moment ago I freaked out at Facebook’s “suggested friend” feature. Typically, most of the people who do pop up there are either college friends I didn’t add yet, people I don’t know but went to my college, or people in the UAE or my workplace who have mutual friends.
This morning, the suggestion was for an awesome photographer who’s only link between the two of us is his presence on my Google’s RSS and a comment or two on his photo blog.
My privacy settings are super strict and I have blocked almost all FB application in existence except “the obvious ones” like wall and photos and whatnot.
I may have posted one of his photos on my wall. Could it be that FB was intelligent enough to match the URL to an existing profile? Or is Google conspiring against me!? Behavioral ads?
In any case as long as it doesn’t reveal I am an Angelina Jolie fetishist or questionable RSS feeds I have, I will try to move on
*expects Qwaider to give a lecture and a 3-post followup*
Trainer: OK I got the results of the body analysis. Me: shoot. Trainer: *eyes paper suspiciously and looks at me, then at paper, then at me* Me: what Trainer: you lost weight. Me: BUT HOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW Trainer: I don’t know Me: That’s impossible. I gained two inches around the waist and some muscle! My friends are telling me I look better. I DO look better and I FEEL better! Trainer: Yeah… but… in numbers you lost weight Me: So you’re telling me I gained muscle and gained two inches and lost weight Trainer: I am also confused Me: So my body… reshaped itself? I morph now?! Trainer: Well these things happen Me: … Trainer: …. Trainer: So, um, let’s add five more sessions on the house Me: Brilliant
Little Girl Ghosts
Me: *calls up friend at 3 AM* dude I can’t sleep Friend: mmnghh… Malak? Feek eshi? (what’s wrong?) Me: ya zalameh… afel bab el 2ooda 3ala 7ali w met5abby ta7t el m5addeh (I locked myself in the bedroom and am hiding under the blanket) Friend: looooooooooooooooooool, bte7ki jad? (you’re kidding right?) Me: shayefni 3am affel 3aleik ya3ni! (you think I’m joking?!) Friend: tayyeb… shu fi, mn 2eish 5ayef? (ok, what are you afraid of?) Me: el bent el sgheereh (the little girl) Friend: huh?! Me: ya zalameh, kel ma bet7ammam, besma3 sot benet w kalb (every time I shower I hear a girl’s voice and a dog’s) Friend: ok Me: shu ok?! balki tel3etli? (what if she came out?) Friend: walak 3an jad bte7ki? LOOOOOOOL (are you serious?!) Me: walak (hey!) Friend: tayyeb bas tetla3 e3mel 3aleiha pipi LOOOL (if she comes out, piss on her) Me: &#*#^% Friend: la jad halla2, ma t5af, aslo elli bet5af menno byetla3lak (seriously though, don’t be scared, if you’re scared of something it will show up) Me: O__________________O Friend: LOOOOOOOL walak ehda 3anna bye7kooha la wlad sghar mshan ma y5afo (dude chill we say this to kids so they stop being afraid) Me: SHU SHAYEFNI WALAD SGHEER (DO YOU SEE ME AS A KID) Friend: la abadan LOOOOOOOOL (no not at all!)
Chicken vs Cockroaches
Me: man I can’t believe you eat meat Friend: why? since when you’re vegetarian? Me: I am not… I just don’t like cow/sheep meet. Friend: so you eat chicken and fish? Me: yup Friend: care to explain? Me: well, cows have feelings, they’re huggable and have little babies. Friend: *prays silently* Me: imagine being also a nice young sheep, rolling around in the grass, and then you’re taken away. Imagine being the mother of that sheep. Friend: why does God punish me with people like you! What about chicken? Don’t they have feelings? Me: Chicken are stupid. They can’t even fly. They’re birds waiting to be extinct. It’s our job as humans to eat as many as possible to accomplish it. Friend: Your logic is… quite something Me: and fish, well they might evolve into a huge dragon and kill us all. Friend: aha… Me: dude killing cows and sheep are like killing spiders Friend: huh Me: spiders are intelligent. They help keeping insects out of the house by eating them. Plus they have a soul Friend: so by your logic you don’t kill insects. And chicken and fish don’t have souls. Me: No, they have pointless souls. And roaches don’t have souls. They’re demons that should be killed! Friend: I have no idea how you will ever function in a society
Kinan Jarjous Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Moogle LaLa Land, KJ's Head
Bulbus Abrainus: 1. (noun) A round structure that litters the brain. A Balbus Abrainus will produce invigorating juices that are guaranteed to make your head explode.
OK I have to admit that this is the very first time I ever paint using brushes and pastes. I have never painted before on cloth or any other material, let alone ceramic.
The only thing I did was draw and color in pencils but my skills were lost after grade 6.
As an attempt to revive [...]
