Adonis Diaries

Archive for March 8th, 2009

22.  Prognosis of the long term outcome of the Greater Middle East plan (January 3, 2006)

23. The process of a written confessional Constitution in progress and Live (Jan. 9, 2006)                                                                                                     

24.  A Political Paradigm Shift for Human Development (Jan. 21, 2006)

25. Dialogue around a conference table among confessional rodents (March 2nd, 2006)

26.  Is the assassination of Pierre Gemayel the signal for the second civil war in   Lebanon? (November 22, 2006)


27.  What are the consequences of the July war? (November 24, 2006)

28.  Are the Lebanese expatriates wearier of the political standstill than the citizens? (December 12, 2006)

1) “Life after Life” by Dr. Raymond Moody, (June 7, 2004)

2) “A Priest among “Les Loubards”” by Guy Gilbert, (July 22, 2004)

3) “We the Living” by Ayn Rand, (July, 24, 2004)

4) “Prophesies of End of Timeby Paco Rabanne, (November 15, 2004)

5) “Alexander the Great”, (November 20, 2004)

6) “The Lexus and the Olive Tree” by Thomas Friedman (July 28, 2006)

7) “Season of Migration to the North” by Tayeb Saleh, (August 10, 2006)

8) “The Princes of the Crazy Years” by Gilbert Gilleminault and Philippe Bernert.

9) “Carlos Ghosn: Citoyen du Monde” by Philippe Ries, (Septembre 27, 2006)

10) “Abbo”by Nabil Al Milhem, (November 23, 2006)

11) “Human Types; Essence and the Enneagram” by Suzan Zannos, December 6

12) “One hundred fallacies on the Middle East (ME)” by Fred Haliday, (March 2)

13) “Origins” by Amin Maaluf, February 15, 2007

14) “Imagined Masculinity” edited by Mai Ghoussoub and Emma Sinclair-Webb

15) “Post-modernism: the Arabs in a video snapshot” by Mai Ghoussoub, March 4

16) “The Joke” by Milan Kundera, (March 22, 2007)

17) “Fahrenheit 451” by Ray Bradbury, March 28, 2007

18)  “Biography” of In3am Ra3d, April 7, 2007

19)  “Al-Walid Bin Talal”, April 4, 2007

20) “The Gardens of Light” by Amin Maaluf, April 19, 2007

21) “Two old women” by Velma Wallis, May 1, 2007

22) “I heard the owl call my name” by Margaret Craven, May 3, 2007

23) “A woman of independent means” by Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey, May 6, 2007

24) “The Gospel according to Pilate” by Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt, May 9, 2007

25) “Les innovations du XXI siecle qui vont changer notre vie” by Eric de Riedmatten.

26) “Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Albom, July 3, 2007

27) “Liban: le salut par la culture” by Phares Zoghbi, August 19, 2007

28) “Finding Joy” by Charlote Davis Kasl, August 22, 2007

29) “Tadjoura” by Jean Francois Deniau, Septembre 6, 2007

30) “How to dance forever” by Daniel Nagrin, September 8, 2007

31.  “The Second sex” by Simone de Beauvoir, (September 21, 2007)

32.  “A short history of nearly everything” by Bill Bryson, (September 25, 2007)

33.  “The God of mirrors” by Robert Reilly, (October 1st, 2007)

34.  “The tipping point” by Malcom Gladwell, (October 9, 2007)

35.  “The social structure of Lebanon: democracy or servitude?” by Safia Saadeh

October 15, 2007

36. “Fallaci interviews Fallaci and Apocalypse”, by Oriana Falaci (November 8, 2007)

37. “Aicha la bien-aime du Prophet” by Genevieve Chauvel (November 19, 2007)

38.  Thomas Hardy in “Tess of the D’Uberville” (December 19, 2007)

39. “Le livre des saviors” edited by Constantin von Barloewen (December 22, 2007)


Introspection: Hilda (Addendum #7)

You’re Hungry, Eh!? (Nov. 2002)

Every single book in her apartment was wrapped in a plastic bag. She was allergic to dust. Hell, she was allergic to almost everything. She kept a huge, black Labrador inside. Maybe the plastic bags were to keep her dear dog from getting unduly dusty. The place smelt of dog in every pore of it: Another overpowering odor that can hugely depress me. The dog was her best friend, maybe her unique real friend. Hilda was dead confident that she could see her dog smile and feel him/her when depressed; yes, Hilda had a thorough knowledge of the dog psychological moods.

Like many women there, dogs are at the center of their lives. Crucial decisions were based on the dog feedback. A husband, boyfriend or whoever, was to agree with the dog emotions or vacate immediately.

What is it with indoor dogs? I know a friend of mine who married an American girl. She was a political activist, and lived with her lifetime dog. Many years later and now married to a Lebanese girl and living in Lebanon, my friend still keeps a dog indoor. I do suspect the dog is a living prompter of a past when he was younger, happier, very much in love, with big expectations and ready to improve the world dialectically, and ultimately, taming these blood-sucking, capitalist imperialists.

Hilda was with a girl friend of hers at a dark dancing club. Hilda had black thinning hair, cropped very short, in spikes. Heavy, thick and non colored prescription glasses were hiding her eyes. She looked desperate for a lay and her eyes followed me persistently. Her girl friend was nudging her and encouraging her to make a move. Hilda finally managed to invite me to dance with her. I reluctantly agreed.

Hilda drove me in her car to her place at the outskirt of town. In the much better lighted room, I noticed villain large blue blotches on both her arms. I needed to run away on the spot, but for my acquired politeness, I decided to stay a little longer.

For the first time I saw her feet.  They were neat, large and strong. I liked these feet. A woman with feet like that signal to me security and protection for her male. So, we shared a hot bath. I sponged and massaged leisurely her feet more than needed.

Hilda turned out not to be so desperate tonight.

She asked plenty and well targeted questions. She wanted to come to a safe decision, for a safe sex. Meanwhile, I reached the part of my life story where I admitted being born in Africa and that I lived there, lately, for a year. I could hear the click in her mind:  Oh! No, no and no! What about AIDS and the million other diseases, stupid!

Damnation! I thought that I won’t be seeing these feet again.

We cuddled up in bed, stark naked, Including her thick eyeglasses and mine.

God! She had really beautiful large green eyes, and her face was just lovely, lying on a bed and without glasses. Hilda displayed round and hard bosoms, a slim waist and an exquisite stomach, lean and mean for her age. She had a perfect body in bed, but for these large blue blotches on her arms.

Damned feet! They got me over excited and cut short on my foreplay. She liked to kiss very much, kissed me all over my gorgeous body. I mounted her in haste and tried to penetrate her clumsily and in vain. She wouldn’t let me in, no way.

I ejected prematurely between her soft thighs. Hilda was in the meantime in ecstasy;

She was frankly moaning which increased my bewilderment and dejection.

Hilda had decided that no intercourse is to be consummated with this African touring man. I turned over on my back and blurted out: “Oh boy, am I hungry!” She lost her control and screamed: “Hungry, eh!? You want to eat right now, eh!? Right away, eh!? What’s wrong with you men?  You feel hungry right away? What about resting a while longer?”

This early ejection reminds me of another story with Helga over seven years earlier.

She was a middle-aged German, working at a luxury restaurant. In her dim room with a leopard spread cover on her bed, I was frantically trying to enter her, and vigorously making love to her. After I ejected, she sadly but forcefully said:

“God damn it Adonis, didn’t you know that you were still out?”

I decided, then and there, to ask my future bed companions to insert me themselves. It turned out to be a great rewarding decision in life.

Let us go back to our original story with Hilda and not Helga the German middle-aged woman. We had breakfast sooner than expected. Hilda made up for losing her temper a minute ago. Back to bed, she gave me a brain liquefying blow job. The process was thorough, complete from A to Z. She acted as if she was enjoying a delicious ice cream cone: A lick from the top, then several on the sides.

She kept at me after I was long done, and I experienced a forced lasting erection. I patronized her place a couple of times more for her expert specialty when I come to think of liquid or liquefaction or ice cream.

If you are interested in a girl from down South, please, do not mention visiting Africa.

Free Style “Poetry”: The Lebanese kind (March 7, 2009)



            A neighbor in Kunetra had published a poetry volume last year and is ready to publish another one.  Sonia Ashkar Alam dedicated her first volume to me with expectation to review it on  I told her that I am no poet but she insisted on ground that any kind of dissemination is a god thing.


I selected one poem out of 33 simply because it is about a friend of mine and a relative who died in a bomb blast in the city of Antelias during the Lebanese civil war.  Rasheed Ashkar was teaching chemistry in high schools.


The Man (to the soul of Rasheed Ashkar)


He vanished suddenly and never came back

Back hunched

Ending his journey

Leaving behind

Touches of blame, confused, and muddled.


Stretched on the mat of exhaustion

Here he is!

His spring is dreams

His autumn harvest

But his winter is cloudy.


God is his salvation.

Amid whiffs of sighs

Shouts of aches and lamentations

Resonate in fear

In flight



Chased away

By tears of regret

This is man

Looking up

Talking to the Creator

And the door of heaven

Opening up to welcome him


Note 1: Not directly related to this volume of poems I have to register a warning. There is this Free Style Poetry that has been around for over 40 years.  The idea is to free the poet of classical Arabic stringent constraints in rime, rhythm and cadence and thus liberate imagination to smooth flow that permit to convey the full meaning of the emotions.  I am no poet but I couldn’t help realizing that the first volume of the new authors is invariably a “poetry book”.  As I read I never can figure out where the sentence starts and where it ends; sometimes I have the impression that Free Style is also about liberating authors of meaningful prose writing. The trick is to consider one word as a full sentence occupying an entire line; thus, ten words fill a page and two pages constitute a poem. A few use graphic designs shape and forms on the words accompanied with free hand drawings attached to every poem.


Note 2: I understand that most of us in the Arab world are no longer proficient in classical Arabic literature and that Arabic grammars were written by famous Persian linguists in order to aid Persians assimilating the proper Arabic language as spoken by the bedwins during the Arabic Empire. I understand that the stringent constraints for classical Arabic poetry are almost insurmountable in our present age.  Nevertheless, Arabic prose is still accessible, with some hard work, and many have been writing in the slang of their State.


My question is: If the author is not ready to express his own emotional frailty and shortcomings then why write poetry?  What’s wrong with writing short stories and personal experiences?

Drama: Here are the Choices (March 9, 2009)

I forgot what the various definitions of Drama are. I am interested of stating mine; call it the Drama of Life or call it Adonis concept for Drama. Here it goes.

Step one: At every moment in life, you, the individual, regardless of race, origin, religious belief, or physical handicap, or mental handicap, or emotional handicap have alternatives.

At every instance you have got countable choices to select from. Some of you might create more than one, two or several choices to select from, depending on your potentials, hard work, reflection, and accumulated knowledge. You can opt to make life decisions as complex or as simple as you want; it is irrelevant to life; it goes on.

Step two: At every instance do not expect life to tell you the consequences of your choices.

Life is not interested in guiding your path, or taking you by the hand, or infusing knowledge to you, or answering your queries. If you cannot move or select unless you are fully aware of the consequences of your decisions, then you will be selecting default alternatives that you implicitly are inclined to follow.

Life does not care for your process of making decision; it goes on.

Life is telling you: You have got five senses, a brain, and alternatives to select from at every instance. Open your eyes and observe.

Clear your ears and listen. Smell, touch, and taste what nature is offering you. Discuss your head off or keep silent and listen it is your choice.

Reflect for yourself or follow instructions it is your choice. Read or let other read to you it is your choice. Learn or stay ignorant it is your choice. Venture, discover, investigate, or stay put on your land it is your choice. Whatever you do is totally irrelevant to me and it is of no concern to me.

Life is telling you: You were born with certain definite limitations structurally and genetically deal with it. You were born with much potential and capabilities deal with it.

At the end, whether you create binary alternatives, or several or none at every instance, the path you followed is unique and you are unique among the trillions of individual living or already dead.

Life is telling you: I have no instruction to give; I have no opinion to offer. Whatever set of values that are agreeable to you, implicitly or explicitly, it is your set of values and I am totally indifferent.

You may accept 100 values to select from, or fine tune every value and chose from a thousand values it is still completely none of my concern. You may agree with what your society pressure you or induce you to receive as the best set of moral values to guide you it is still your own choice; I am in no position to judge.

All that I know is that you were born unique and you will die unique; that is the best of recognition that I may lavish on you.




March 2009

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