Rent Control

THIS POST HAS BEEN DELETED TO PRESERVE CULTURAL HARMONY. APOLOGIES. MERRY XMAS. SO YOU IN THE PIT. MY FRIEND ASKED ME TO DELETE THE POST AS NOT TO JINX THE APARTMENT MENTIONED IN THIS SPACE. ITS THE EGYPTIAN EVIL EYE AND I AREED>

Panic (opticon) in the streets of Cairo

While navigating the concrete valleys of Cairo back to my flat early this morning, I came across a mad dog. It was frightening.

I saw him way up ahead, standing guard of his road and periodically freaking out and running around in circles. Then he spotted me.

He stared me down, looked deep into my eyes, raised his hulking shoulders and growled as if to say "hey faggot, how'd you like to get your neck bit? I'm bringing crazy back, and you're it, bitch."

I looked for a stick or a club or a fucking rock or a Diet Coke can I could fashion into some sort of crude blade, but there was nothing around.

I clenched my fists, tipped my chin down and got ready to tangle with the beast.

He growled and lunged straight at me. I freaked. He ran faster and faster until he was about 3 feet infront of me.

Thankfully, he changed direction at the last minute and went howling and running in semi-circles into this little tin hut.

Which leads me to my next point: while most Egyptians are hard-wired into the moral control centre of the police state, which prevents them from kissing in public and insulting the President, dogs, cats (and foreigners) can do what they want.

"B white" and the death of a diplomat

Things are getting increasingly bizarre here in Egypt, friends.

This week, whilst in the throws of a debilitating stomach ailment, I spent a good chunk of time spacing out in front of the television, whereupon I watched an advert for a product called “B-White.”

Here’s the gist of the commercial: two pretty Arab chicks are yapping away and looking at Polaroids of themselves, grimacing at what they see. One of the girls pulls out this tube of paste, smiles and applies it to the other girl’s face. Then, this little graphic pops up and shows how the paste will actually make the user’s face whiter.

I’m not going to make any snappy pop-culture commentaries on this. It speaks for itself.

It’s also been raining here. Weird. I looked it up and it hasn’t rained in Cairo for 1,534 years. Okay, not quite. But it’s the only time I’ve seen rain since I got here – not counting Rain Man, which was on TV last month.

Had lunch with the Canadian Ambassador and the other DFAIT/CIDA interns this week, too. Emboldened by two glasses of red, I brought up a dude named Herbert Norman (pictured), Canada’s ambassador to Egypt back in the 1950s.

Long story short, Norman got swept up in the McCarthy-ist wave sweeping through diplomatic circles at the time, and because of theses accusations, he got depressed. Mega depressed.

Okay, when I get depressed, I usually go for a jog, take a shower and pour myself a long glass of whiskey and suck back a few lung darts. Herbert, however, dealt with the big Dee by throwing himself off the top of an eight-storey building in downtown Cairo. He landed on the Swedish ambassador’s car which was parked on the street below.

I’m thinking about starting a coffee-shop folk band called Herbert Norman and Eight Stories. Or maybe not. This is what Cairo can do to a man, dear friends.

Music (Computer) World

Given the paucity of specialty record shops catering to electronic music and the dearth of real estate for left-field forms of electronic music on Cairo’s dance floors, lately, I have been turning increasingly to that soul-sucking abyss of trendy, contemporaneous music snobbery for new music – the audio blog.

While it’s a great way to keep up on the latest shit – Klaxxons galore, Simian Mobile Disco edits, DFA remixes, and tones of boys noise from Kitsune, Headbangers and Modular – downloading music off the internet fucking sucks.

Period.

I recall as a teenager running down to Sound Connection or A & B Sound to buy new (and old) shit every few days. I cherished the album format for better or for worse – good tracks, bad tracks, you know I’ve heard my share.

Listening to the album format – while sometimes challenging when sitting down to a quiet evening with mid 90s Six Finger Satellite – is an enormously more satisfying experience than gorging on the latest Acid Girls MP3 mix tape or whatever remix MSTRKFT is pooing out onto the net.

Sure, I know loads of music geeks who claim to be up on their shit, but a lot of so-called “experts” are the kind of internet seekers – in the words of James Murphy – who don’t ACTUALLY OWN ANY MUSIC.

I’m sick of going to people’s apartments and pretending to be impressed by their MP3 collections.

No (record) jacket required, apparently.

Yo, go out and actually get that double pressing of the Soulwax record and then you’ll get my respect.

Anyways, that’s enough for now … I want to see if that Twitch remix of that hot new Spankrock track is finished downloading yet.

Top 3 Dumbest Tracks I’ve Downloaded Off “Interweb” This Week
1. Space Cowboy, Egyptian lover – “Um, Larry Tee is on line 3”
2. Cassius, Toop Toop (Pedro and Panama mix) – Goofy isn’t always great
3. Fox and Wolf, Youth Alcoholic – More shouty shit for hipster slime