Year: 2006

Win Natacha Atlas’ New Album ‘Mish Maoul’

natachaatlasmishmaoul.gifBelgian-born Middle Eastern singer Natacha Atlas has just released her latest album, by the title “Mish Maoul“. The album is a blend of western beats and middle eastern forms and influences, mainly sung in Arabic and English.

I was introduced to Natacha’s music a few years ago, 1999 to be precise, with her hit song “Mon Amie La Rose”, from her album “Gedida”.

This album experiments with the fusion of different musical styles from west and east, and is quite an interesting listen.

Through Subzero Blue, Natacha’s record label Mantra Recordings/Beggars Group will be offering 10 copies of her new album for grabs.

All you have to do to have a chance at winning one of the CDs is to jump by the album site “Mish Maoul“, listen to some of her songs, identify 3 different musical instruments that are used on the album, and email your reply to marketing@beggars.com. And make sure you don’t forget to say that you’re coming from Subzero Blue in your email.

Good luck…

Equality

“All mankind is from Adam and Eve, No Arab has any superiority over a non-Arab, nor does a non-Arab have any superiority over an Arab. Nor does a white man have any superiority over a black man, or a black man any superiority over a white man except by piety and good action.”

— Prophet Muhammad, in his Farewell Sermon.

You know you’re an Arab when…

This is one of those few forwards that are actually good. Thanks to my wife who forwarded it to me after she got it from a friend.

You know you’re an Arab when:

– Your mother yells at the top of her lungs to call you to dinner even if you’re in the next room.

– You arrive one or two hours late to a party and think it’s normal.

– You are standing next to the largest suitcases at the Airport.

– You talk for an hour at the front door when leaving someone’s house.

– You say bye 17 times on the phone.

– Your parents still scream at the top of their lungs when making long distance calls.

– Your relatives alone could populate a small city.

– You always say “open the light” instead of “turn the light on”.

– You’ve had a shoe thrown at you by your mother.

Continue reading You know you’re an Arab when…

The 5 Rules Of Telling A Joke

I truly believe that over 50% of what makes people laugh at a joke is how it’s told, and I’m sure most of us have witnessed a really hilarious joke reduced to a failure by someone who didn’t know how to tell it well.

These are just ideas of rules I think should be respected when telling a joke.

1. Make sure you know the joke well enough to tell it. Stopping in the middle of the joke to remember the rest just screws the whole thing up.

2. Keep it short. People’s joke attention span is very short, stretching it out for them makes them lose interest and ruins the effect of the joke.

3. Choose the right voice tone. Depending on the joke, you should slightly change the tone of your voice when you’re telling it to accentuate it.

4. Choose your words. Some words reflect “funny”, some just don’t.

5. Don’t tell it like you’re talking about a documentary. Be upbeat, into it and know how to carry the joke.

Now, tell me a good joke…

Special Perfect Bed Days

It’s morning again; you subsconsciously know, because the birds that have chosen to build their nest behind your air conditioners’ engine are chirping away ever so merrily, stretching out their wings, getting ready to face a busy day of doing whatever it is that birds do.
A few of the sun’s rays have also managed to make their way through the blinds to teasingly tickle your face, attempting to promise you a beautiful day outside.

The bloody alarm clock will start beeping like crazy in a few minutes, teasing you with every bit of energy it holds within its triple A batteries, and even though you have the snooze button to thank for a few extra precious seconds of sleep, you know you’ll have to give in and wake up anyway.

But today it’s going to be harder than usual; today is one of those special perfect bed days; you know those days where you’re stretched out in the optimal, most relaxing position; where the cover is so soft, engulfing you, hugging you at all the right places; where the warmth of the bed is just right; the coolness of the pillow is absolutely perfect and you feel like you could just linger on in that moment forever. It’s days like this that are the hardest to wake up from bed in.

These days don’t happen quite often too; only 4 or 5 days a year; it’s a shame to miss them and have them ruined by some stupid alarm clock, reminding you of one of your life’s daily pending obligations.

Personally, I believe we should be able to just stay in on days like this, enjoy the moment for as long as it lasts; but no, our personal sleep satisfaction doesn’t figure in any corporate policies or job laws.
Who cares whether you enjoy your sleep or not? In fact, they’d be full of envy to know that you’re having one of those days and they’re not.

So you face the reality that’s been haunting you for the past minutes, you open your eyes to a new day, which you hope, once again, won’t be just another routine loop in your life; and you drag yourself slowly, against your will, out of your perfect bed.

My Little Story With Racism

I think that my upbringing, plus the fact that I grew up in Zimbabwe and also my getting to travel a lot, meeting different people and having friends from all races and nationalities, makes me one of the people who are the farthest from racism as possible.

I’m not just one of those people who go on about how they’re not racist but then say that it’s impossible for them to marry someone from this race or that, or who feel somehow superior to people from a certain nationality or race, and that list of contradictions goes on…
No, I’m someone who is genuinely un-racist. I wouldn’t have even hesitated to marry a woman from any other race or nationality if I truly fell in love with her. I have friends from all over the world who are different from me in race, nationality, religion and more; yet when I’m with them I don’t feel one bit of difference.

Anyway, what reminded me of all this is this experience I had when I was a kid in Zimbabwe, in which I was a victim of racism and not the opposite.

I must’ve been around 8 years old or so, and we lived in this compound which mainly consisted of families of foreigners, who were there for work or who newly settled in the country.

I had a number of friends from England, Greece and Portugal within the compound, and I had a bunch of Zimbabwean friends who lived in nearby buildings.

One of my black Zimbabwean friends belonged to a poor family that lived in a little house made of tin, not too far from the compound we lived in.
I really liked him and enjoyed playing with him a lot. I’d go around with other Zimbabwean friends sometimes and other times on my own, and we’d go out and play all kinds of games; Almost anything is enjoyable when you’re a kid.

Our friendship grew, and all was great until his father knew about it and he started telling his son not to play with me because I was white.

I thought that was unfair, and I didn’t understand why such a thing could matter at all, so I didn’t give up and I kept sneaking over to my friend’s place to take him out to play.

His father caught me while sneaking in a number of times and started running after me with a stick, trying to scare me away from coming back to play with his son, but I’d just outrun him, jump over fences, go through some of my other friend’s houses to lose him, and then just run back to take his son out to play before he got back.

It was a challenge for me. I wouldn’t tolerate someone judging me by my colour. How come he let his son play with other black kids, but stopped him when it came to me?!
And so I went on coming back time and time again.

In the end he just gave up; I think he finally realized I was unstoppable and that I would go on playing with his son whether he liked it or not.

That memory still passes through my mind every now and then, and makes me wish that we were all more like children, and that we’d stop judging each other for all the stupid reasons we put between us. Why can’t we all just accept each other for what we are and embrace our differences and accept them as enriching elements that make each one of us unique.

Microsoft Windows XP Starter Edition for Africa

Microsoft will be releasing a lower-priced version of their Windows XP operating system for Africa, this July. The system will work on cheaper machines and is designed for entry-level PC users in Africa. It will also have Africa-themed screensavers and background wallpaper among its features.

This is something I’ve been convinced software companies like Microsoft should’ve done a long time ago. Having one price for software worldwide is stupid, because what a person in a poor “third world” country can afford to pay for a piece of software is nowhere near what someone in the US or Western Europe can pay.

And I think that is one of the main reasons it’s almost impossible to apply copyright laws on software in these poorer countries, because people would rather go through the risk of buying pirated software than having to pay the expensive price of original software.
And who loses in the end? The software company.

I’m not too sure if this move isn’t already too late, but well, better late than never, I guess.

Still, the whole world is waiting for Windows Vista and what they are offering Africa is a stripped down version of old Windows XP. Not really the right approach. But well, for an entry level user, who can only afford cheaper, older, hardware, this should be good enough.
But the software companies should also think about the people who just a bit better off financially, and who want to buy the latest version of the software at a price that is reasonable for them.