Thursday, February 5, 2015

His Majesty Clint of Jordan

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Since yesterday, Lebanese are in awe. But then again, Lebanese are always in awe. Actually they are either in awe or in total disgust. No middle ground.

Lebanese might be the world's worst citizen but they are the perfect consumers ever. They’d buy anything. As gullible as a Sarah Palin voter. They consume ideas and opinions as much as products and brands.

Just throw them a slogan, a headline, and watch them go nuts. Watch them on social media compete to find the best formula, the most pedantic rhetoric, the perfect passionate poetry to express their profound superficiality.

After Miss Lebanon and Hiba Tawaji, the king of Jordan is now their new big cheese. He’s better than Chuck Norris and Jean-Claude Van Dam put together. He is the überhero. He is Clint Eastwood.


Imagine, he single-handedly hanged two terrorists! Wow. Now he’s going to put on his poncho, grab his Magnum and go bomb the shit out of Daesh. Double wow. Triple wow. Hey Daesh, do you feel lucky punks?

All hail Clint of Jordan!

Doesn’t matter if, for years, the Hashemite kingdom opened his frontiers with Syria to all sorts of foreign fighters going to gladly die in the name of their jolly holly war, and occasionally massacre Yazidis, crucify Christians, behead journalists or sell children to slavery. The headline says the king is Clint therefore the king is Clint. Period. Why bother with details? Details take time, and time is what Lebanese don’t have.

They’re too busy being in awe. They’re too busy singing “Koullouna lil malak, lil 3oula lil habal.”


© Claude El Khal, 2015

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