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Gorillaz' "Plastic Beach" Something...

Gorillaz are a British virtual band created in 1998 by Damon Albarn of Britpop band Blur, and Jamie Hewlett, co-creator of the comic book Tank Girl. The band is composed of four animated band members: 2D (lead vocalist, keyboard), Murdoc Niccals (bass guitar), Noodle (lead guitar and occasional vocals) and Russel Hobbs (drums and percussion). The band's music is a collaboration between various musicians, Albarn being the only permanent musical contributor. Their style is a composition of multiple musical genres, with a large number of their influences including: dub, hip hop, alternative rock, electronic and pop music.

Now after the summarized introduction from Wikipedia, we kick off from here; since Damon Albarn has began Gorillaz and we have been introduced to a new concept of music, the concept of true creativity with the single human path of searching for the right ingredients in an attempt to form this world.
Plastic Beach which was released in March 3rd 2010 is our topic now, a 16 track album with a lot of two kinds of features… artists and alcohol mixed with drugs.
From tracks 1 through 7 I am completely shocked and asking myself three main questions,

1- Is this what I have been waiting for after all of the anticipation???
2- Why did this shit happen???
3- What have they been mixing with their drinks??? Just so I never try it.

Starting from track 8 (Glitter Freeze Ft. Mark E. Smith) they were back into right tune, all the way to 11 (Broken) then back to bullshit land, tracks 13 (Plastic Beach Ft. Mick Jones & Paul Simon) and 14 (To Binge Ft. Little Dragon) were the attempt to pay me back my 14 USD… but 14, 15 and 16 took them back .

In Conclusion, there are no hits are expected out of this (thing)… back to the old albums until they produce something either strange or new, at least it has to be eligible to listen to, not a clumsy collection of ringtones.

Denmark Can Kiss My Ass

It is necessary to mention that the dolphin Calderon, like all the other species of dolphins, it's near extinction and they get near men to play and interact. In a way of PURE friendship.

The sea is stained in red and in the mean while it's not because of the climate effects of nature.

It's because of the cruelty that the human beings (civilized human) kill hundreds of the famous and intelligent Calderon dolphins.








This happens every year in Faeroe Island in Denmark. In this slaughter the main participants are young teens.

WHY?

A celebration, to show that they are adults and mature!












In this big celebration, nothing is missing for the fun. Everyone is participating in one way or the other, killing or simply supporting it by attending.












They don't die instantly; they receive suffering blows 1, 2 or 3 times with thick hooks.

And at that time the dolphins produce a grim cry like that of a new born child.


But he suffers and there's no compassion while this magnificent creature slowly dies in its own blood.

The Dark Side Of Dubai... A Cry For Justice

This is a report that has been published by Johann Hari under the following link.

http://www.independent.co.uk/opinion/commentators/johann-hari/the-dark-side-of-dubai-1664368.html

This is just an attempt to re-publish it to my community.


Here Is A summary:

Dubai was meant to be a Middle-Eastern Shangri-La, a glittering monument to Arab enterprise and western capitalism. But as hard times arrive in the city state that rose from the desert sands, an uglier story is emerging.


But something has flickered in Sheikh Mohammed's smile. The ubiquitous cranes have paused on the skyline, as if stuck in time. There are countless buildings half-finished, seemingly abandoned. In the swankiest new constructions – like the vast Atlantis hotel, a giant pink castle built in 1,000 days for $1.5bn on its own artificial island – where rainwater is leaking from the ceilings and the tiles are falling off the roof. This Neverland was built on the Never-Never – and now the cracks are beginning to show. Suddenly it looks less like Manhattan in the sun than Iceland in the desert.

Once the manic burst of building has stopped and the whirlwind has slowed, the secrets of Dubai are slowly seeping out. This is a city built from nothing in just a few wild decades on credit and ecocide, suppression and slavery. Dubai is a living metal metaphor for the neo-liberal globalised world that may be crashing.



---Hidden in plain view

There are three different Dubais, all swirling around each other. There are the expats, like Karen; there are the Emiratis, headed by Sheikh Mohammed; and then there is the foreign underclass who built the city, and are trapped here. They are hidden in plain view. You see them everywhere, in dirt-caked blue uniforms, being shouted at by their superiors, like a chain gang – but you are trained not to look. It is like a mantra: the Sheikh built the city. The Sheikh built the city. Workers? What workers?

Every evening, the hundreds of thousands of young men who build Dubai are bussed from their sites to a vast concrete wasteland an hour out of town, where they are quarantined away. Until a few years ago they were shuttled back and forth on cattle trucks, but the expats complained this was unsightly, so now they are shunted on small metal buses that function like greenhouses in the desert heat. They sweat like sponges being slowly wrung out.

Sonapur is a rubble-strewn patchwork of miles and miles of identical concrete buildings. Some 300,000 men live piled up here, in a place whose name in Hindi means "City of Gold". In the first camp I stop at – riven with the smell of sewage and sweat – the men huddle around, eager to tell someone, anyone, what is happening to them.

Sahinal Monir, a slim 24-year-old from the deltas of Bangladesh. "To get you here, they tell you Dubai is heaven. Then you get here and realise it is hell," he says. Four years ago, an employment agent arrived in Sahinal's village in Southern Bangladesh. He told the men of the village that there was a place where they could earn 40,000 takka a month (£400) just for working nine-to-five on construction projects. It was a place where they would be given great accommodation, great food, and treated well. All they had to do was pay an up-front fee of 220,000 takka (£2,300) for the work visa – a fee they'd pay off in the first six months, easy. So Sahinal sold his family land, and took out a loan from the local lender, to head to this paradise.

As soon as he arrived at Dubai airport, his passport was taken from him by his construction company. He has not seen it since. He was told brusquely that from now on he would be working 14-hour days in the desert heat – where western tourists are advised not to stay outside for even five minutes in summer, when it hits 55 degrees – for 500 dirhams a month (£90), less than a quarter of the wage he was promised. If you don't like it, the company told him, go home. "But how can I go home? You have my passport, and I have no money for the ticket," he said. "Well, then you'd better get to work," they replied.


---An Adult Disneyland

Karen Andrews can't speak. Every time she starts to tell her story, she puts her head down and crumples. She is slim and angular and has the faded radiance of the once-rich, even though her clothes are as creased as her forehead. I find her in the car park of one of Dubai's finest international hotels, where she is living, in her Range Rover. She has been sleeping here for months, thanks to the kindness of the Bangladeshi car park attendants who don't have the heart to move her on. This is not where she thought her Dubai dream would end.

Her story comes out in stutters, over four hours. At times, her old voice – witty and warm – breaks through. Karen came here from Canada when her husband was offered a job in the senior division of a famous multinational. "When he said Dubai, I said – if you want me to wear black and quit booze, baby, you've got the wrong girl. But he asked me to give it a chance. And I loved him."

All her worries melted when she touched down in Dubai in 2005. "It was an adult Disneyland, where Sheikh Mohammed is the mouse," she says. "Life was fantastic. You had these amazing big apartments, you had a whole army of your own staff, you pay no taxes at all. It seemed like everyone was a CEO. We were partying the whole time."

Her husband, Daniel, bought two properties. "We were drunk on Dubai," she says. But for the first time in his life, he was beginning to mismanage their finances. "We're not talking huge sums, but he was getting confused. It was so unlike Daniel, I was surprised. We got into a little bit of debt." After a year, she found out why: Daniel was diagnosed with a brain tumour.

One doctor told him he had a year to live; another said it was benign and he'd be okay. But the debts were growing. "Before I came here, I didn't know anything about Dubai law. I assumed if all these big companies come here, it must be pretty like Canada's or any other liberal democracy's," she says. Nobody told her there is no concept of bankruptcy. If you get into debt and you can't pay, you go to prison.

"When we realized that, I sat Daniel down and told him: listen, we need to get out of here. He knew he was guaranteed a pay-off when he resigned, so we said – right, let's take the pay-off, clear the debt, and go." So Daniel resigned – but he was given a lower pay-off than his contract suggested. The debt remained. As soon as you quit your job in Dubai, your employer has to inform your bank. If you have any outstanding debts that aren't covered by your savings, then all your accounts are frozen, and you are forbidden to leave the country.

"Suddenly our cards stopped working. We had nothing. We were thrown out of our apartment." Karen can't speak about what happened next for a long time; she is shaking.

Daniel was arrested and taken away on the day of their eviction. It was six days before she could talk to him. "He told me he was put in a cell with another debtor, a Sri Lankan guy who was only 27, who said he couldn't face the shame to his family. Daniel woke up and the boy had swallowed razor-blades. He banged for help, but nobody came, and the boy died in front of him."

Karen managed to beg from her friends for a few weeks, "but it was so humiliating. I've never lived like this. I worked in the fashion industry. I had my own shops. I've never..." She peters out.

Daniel was sentenced to six months' imprisonment at a trial he couldn't understand. It was in Arabic, and there was no translation. "Now I'm here illegally, too," Karen says I've got no money, nothing. I have to last nine months until he's out, somehow." Looking away, almost paralysed with embarrassment, she asks if I could buy her a meal.

She is not alone. All over the city, there are maxed-out expats sleeping secretly in the sand-dunes or the airport or in their cars.

"The thing you have to understand about Dubai is – nothing is what it seems," Karen says at last. "Nothing. This isn't a city, it's a con-job. They lure you in telling you it's one thing – a modern kind of place – but beneath the surface it's a medieval dictatorship.




---Tumbleweed

In the mid-18th century, a small village was built here, in the lower Persian Gulf, where people would dive for pearls off the coast. It soon began to accumulate a cosmopolitan population washing up from Persia, the Indian subcontinent, and other Arab countries, all hoping to make their fortune. They named it after a local locust, the daba, who consumed everything before it. The town was soon seized by the gunships of the British Empire, who held it by the throat as late as 1971. As they scuttled away, Dubai decided to ally with the six surrounding states and make up the United Arab Emirates (UAE).

The British quit, exhausted, just as oil was being discovered, and the sheikhs who suddenly found themselves in charge faced a remarkable dilemma. They were largely illiterate nomads who spent their lives driving camels through the desert – yet now they had a vast pot of gold. What should they do with it?

A Message To The Majority: 5 Things You Have To Do To Be An Egyptian

- After a long time of being away from collecting the words that would spill out and calm me down, I found this topic would be the kick back to what I have been looking for; so here it goes.


- The need to live is simple; it’s the will to live. If it sounds stupid to you then don’t continue reading, or go get high or liquored-up… whatever that makes you happy. Any Way… Let’s Go.


- Most of the people that see themselves worth something are grasping on any chance to run out of the country. This is a complete surrender.


- Being an Egyptian has differed from time-to-time, after all the wars and unstable times to reshape our values and emotions we are still suffering… unfortunately the majority has taken the easiest path known to mankind… Watching.


- In-Order to reverse that panoramic attitude, here are 5 simple things to do:


- Wake up early: Wake Up at six o’clock to get a head start, do some work out, have your usual shower then wake up the rest of the house, communicate with them and help with the breakfast, imagine the effect that will reflect which will cause a ripple effect for the rest of the world that they will meet with outside… Only because you woke up early.

- Smile: After getting out to the world around you, meet them with a smile, this will increase the amount of reflection to them, even if you don’t know them. A simple head gesture with a smile is enough.

- Clean Up Around: Don’t throw anything into the street and criticize anyone who does so, even if you don’t know him. There is no shame to bend down and pick up something off the street.

- Don’t Shout: Treat your ears to something calm, Qur’aan or a Gospel and then a little bit of music.
Finally The Most Important;

- Correct The Mistakes: Where ever you go be a fighter, correct any mistake your eyes catches no matter how you judge it, big or small. Search for a solution and take an action, if the solution is out of your hands, then there would be a process to follow, go for it and fight for it to be done, even if it will take you a whole week to report a burned light bulb in in a light pole in your street; My Message Is… DO FUCKING SOMETHING.

Our previous generations have had their share of shutting the FUCK-UP for a FUCKING LONG TIME.

LET’S TAKE ACTIONS NOW, START WITH OURSELVES AND REFLECT ON OTHERS.

FUCK THE GOVERNMENT, FUCK THE LOSERS, GO AWAY YOU MOTHERFUCKING ABROAD LAZY ASSES AND LEAVE US TO REBUILD OUR EGYPT.

NCIS: Los Angeles A.K.A "B.S"

- "NCIS" has been one of the most viewed television series since the first episode until now with it's 7th season began to air in 22 September 2009; if there had to be any changes for any reason, the result shouldn't have been the "CIA" extravagant L.A Version.

- If "007" would have collected a team for one of his "Don't Die Before Yesterday" sequels, the "NCIS: L.A" team would be it. The cast is so huge that you will never have enough time to get close to any of them in-order for you to at least "keep track" not to mention "get to know". 6 Regular characters and 3 Recurring with only "CBS" as the common ground.

1- Chris O'Donnell: Special Agent In Charge; the "Robin" wannabee is NCIS's "xXx".

2- LL Cool J: Senior Field Agent, an ex-Navy SEAL and his bold head is the only serious thing going-on in this hollow lump on his shoulders. Go turn yourself on infront of a mirror; drop acting you are only convincing your agent.

The rest are just blabbing what ever comes-up on the screens as if they understand any of it. Along with the black and white shots of imagery taken from "NCIS".


Enough Said.

Why Real MEN Drive Stick!!!

- Real men understand that cars need three pedals, otherwise the vehicle is nothing more than a fancy golf cart.

- An automatic transmission is a fine accessory to have -- it's for those who find driving to be a confusing task, but unfortunately find themselves frequently distracted by things like cell phones, makeup, and shiny things. One of the obvious downsides to this propensity to distraction is when it comes time for these drivers to gently tug the steering wheel to either the left or right, they end up crashing into moving and parked cars.

- Rather than admit that driving is a skill that needs to be practiced and mastered, the people who favor automatic transmissions blame their poor driving skills on everyone and everything else.

“The tree jumped out into the middle of the road!” they will exclaim, quickly followed by a cry of, “There was no way to avoid it!” Of course, these drivers will be sure to omit the fact that they were texting, checking their lip gloss, and/or trying to master the use of the sippy cup holding their double tall nonfat chai latte.

Here is exactly why Real Men Drive Manually Transmitted Cars:

*You can't spell "manual" without "man".

- No Comment.

*You can't drift in an auto.

- No Comment.

* You’ll never look like a chump if you can drive stick.

- No Comment.

* Manual transmission cars are faster.

- No Comment.

* Women like a guy who is good with his hands.

- No Comment.

*Manual transmissions prove you can do more than one thing at a time

- Some people have a hard time walking and sipping chai lattes at the same time. No one respects these people. We as a society respect those who can do more than one thing at a time -- especially if they can do those things well. Men who excel at performing multiple, complex motor movements at one time, such as professional athletes, often enjoy an almost godlike status.

*A manual transmission is the ultimate in control:

- Despite what engineers may say, modern cars aren’t that smart. Cars that shift themselves will often hold the wrong gear, or shift up at the worst possible time, resulting in a car that treats the gas pedal as a suggestion box -- which it then promptly ignores. The automatic car is going to tell you what to do, and ultimately make you its bitch.

* You get better fuel economy with a stick.

- Manual transmissions have historically been more energy efficient than traditional automatic transmissions, and a quick look at EPA numbers will show that a manual version of a car can get 1 to 2 more miles per gallon than its identical automatic-equipped sibling.


Source: Askmen.com