A Blog from Amman, Jordan, Online Since 2004.

Month: June 2013 (Page 1 of 2)

The cutest little song

I haven’t laughed so hard in ages.

[UPDATED] PF Changs Amman

Update, May 7, 2014:
I was contacted by the Digital Marketing Manager at PF Changs for a dinner at TAJ this week, and I’m pleased to say that the arrogant manager mentioned below does not work at PF Changs anymore. Customer service has also improved a lot, the waiters were very nice and helpful.
It’s always great when people read reviews and fix things accordingly! Hattip to AlShaya for being customer service pros.

Avoid PFChangs in Amman. Food is burnt, has no flavor, and the waiters are arrogant that we just don’t know how it should taste. Plus, it’s insanely overpriced. Avoid at all costs, and go local.

Case in hand… Seven people, five of which are ravaging hungry boys who would eat anything. Mongolian beef so inedible that aside from being tasted by seven, it got taken away only half-eaten. Waiter and manager feedback: you just don’t know how it should taste. you pesants, it is supposed to be burnt and too salty, but we can replace it if you really, really want, but you just don’t know.


Go local. Recommended Chinese: Shanghai in Jabal Amman, Abu Khalil in Jabal Amman, Noodasia in Abdoun.

Excitement coming up at

A Picture of a Cat Wearing a Unicorn Horn Beneath a Cardboard Rainbow

Via Arabzy

Get Hypnotized by Sparkley Cat

Visual Order and Chaos and the Impossibility of Randomness

There is nothing harder than faking visual chaos. No. There is nothing harder than randomness in general.

As humans, we have this built-in need to organize the world around us; ideas, objects, even people. Life becomes less confusing when everything is recognized, differentiated, and understood. Classification is something I try to embrace wholeheartedly, to the extent that I have almost no issues with stereotypes, “-isms” (I classify myself as a feminist, for example), and other methods of uncomfortable classification. Consciously classifying myself clearly for others makes it easier for people to understand me, attracting and deflecting them accordingly to my benefit. It’s some sort of branding, I guess.

Last night, I was assisting some friends in setting up a booth at event. The set-up included pegging small packages on a clothesline.

They had started pegging the packages systematically.

The red packages were hung neatly behind each other, as were the blue packages and the green packages. The distance between each of the packages was exactly the same. Each clothesline had seven packages. Actually, the display looked like an exercise in mathematical precision.

The designer in me went crazy trying to hijack the display of packages to look much more random. But my friend looked at me with shock; I was, after all, ruining his perfect visual system.

Then I started thinking about randomness.

It goes against our nature to create randomness. Away from the field of visual arts, as humans, we can’t come up with truly random numbers without help. There have always been methods for generating random numbers — dice, coin flipping, roulette wheels. In IT, you can use computational algorithms that produce long sequences of apparently random results, which are in fact completely determined by an algorithm, and are thus inherently predictable. There are also quantum-to-classical randomness extractors, which are much better at generating randomness. We are incapable of randomness, in a way.

It’s very confusing. Here we are, anxious to make sense of the complicated world around us; we hate randomness. We systematize, classify, correlate, measure, notice, realize. Yet this instinctual hatred of randomness screws everything up, as our cognitively hard-wired brains are constantly finding meaningful patterns in meaningless noise. Our brain and senses are prepared to interpret stimuli according to an expected model (this is called priming, and it is thought to play a large part in the systems of stereotyping), so we often systematize incorrectly, leading to disasters.

Confused enough? Let me confuse you further. Back to visual randomness.

Whether you brain is hard-wired to hate it or not, randomness is good, at least visually, and to an extent. Your eye does not like excessive orderliness. Take the rule of thirds, for example. It’s a “rule of thumb” or guideline which applies to composing visual images such as designs, films, paintings, and photographs. Basically, what the rule of thirds does is fake lack of balance using mathematics. It says: an image should be imagined as divided into nine equal parts by two equally-spaced horizontal lines and two equally-spaced vertical lines, and that important compositional elements should be placed along these lines or their intersections.

Here’s a picture cropped with and without the rule of thirds:

When the stone in the middle, it looks bad, even bordering on offensive. It looks like the picture is yelling at you. That’s why the rule of thirds is good; it helps set balance in a visual composition.

Take a look at these displays:

Pretty right? Look at how random the bottles look. How the balls hang at random heights. How the cages are random sizes. Imagine how they would look if they were perfectly aligned, if they were the same size, or if there was a distinguishable pattern. Not good. They wouldn’t look natural.

Of course, there isn’t anything random in how these displays were set. Someone painstakingly created the layouts to fake the perfect randomness. When I first started practicing design, I found it immensely difficult to fake randomness. Ten years later, I still have to work really hard on a random layout. A visually-untrained person will never be able to set the packages randomly, or understand why I had to set them randomly.

The non-randomness of randomness is beautiful.

If you were a person who isn’t aware of how randomness is awesome, impossible, necessary, and never random, I hope you start seeing how beautiful randomness is. It is never just there. It’s a conscious act in a world that inherently hates it.

How the Internet Sometimes Breaks My Heart

Possibly the saddest email I’ve ever received. 7araaaaaaaaaaaaam Digg. They shot themselves in the head.


Superman caused a disagreement between Einstein and Asimov

An MIT class sent Superman editor Mort Weisinger a letter form Albert Einstein, asserting that not even Superman could move faster than the speed of light. But Weisinger consulted his “good friend” Isaac Asimov, who responded that “Professor Einstein’s statement is based on theory. Superman’s speed is based on fact.”


Jordan Women’s Football Team Reaches the Asian Cup Finals

So this is the first piece of good news coming from Jordan in like what… three years? More?

We qualified for the 2014 AFC Women’s Asian Cup for the first time in history after beating Uzbekistan 4-0 to make it three wins out of three in our group. Our record is 100% :) We will join Thailand, Vietnam, Myanmar, Australia, Japan, China and Korea Republic in Ho Chi Minh City in May 2014.

I’m really proud of our women’s team, who kicked Kuwait’s ass 6-0 after only 20 minutes, going on to annihilate them 21-0. That’s approximately one goal every four minutes. You can sit back and enjoy the kick-ass show the ladies put here:

Thank you, ladies, for finally giving me something to smile about in this depressing, consistently-going backwards country of ours.

Fingers crossed that the men’s team will also kick ass today. I think it’s safe to say that we as Jordanians need something to be proud/happy/excited about.

An Ode to Ali, the Baba of Amman

I last saw him at a party in l’Weibdeh a couple of week ago. He was sitting on a stool, and he gave me his usual bear hug. “Ahlan baba,” he said, with his customary huge grin and booming voice. I smiled and asked him how he is. He told me he was good. We clicked glasses and I walked on.

Walked on.

That’s the thing about death.

You never know it’s going to happen.

You never know when it will strike.

You never know whether you will see the person again or not.

They just… die. Vanish. Cease existing. Their presence is replaced by a gaping black hole.

Today, the larger-than-life Ali Maher, the baba of Amman, passed away. Ali. Passionate Ali. Crazy Ali. Fun Ali. Genius Ali. Wonderful Ali.

Ali is dead.

I was a child when I first met Ali Maher, in the early 90’s. He worked at Darat Al-Funun, and I was with my mother there. When I moved to Amman in 2003, I met him again, as one of the founding chairs of Jordan University’s Fine Arts and Design faculty.

Then it was BOOM!

Ali was all over my life. He was at Books@Cafe the night I got my iPad in 2010. Touchscreens were still quite new, and he excitedly painted two pictures for me on the drawing application. He would visit us at Syntax often, with his gorgeous energy and booming laugh. He was at every film screening, every art exhibition. He was in every local publication, on ever TV channel and every Jordanian show. He was at all the parties I’d go to, he was at all the bars. He was in the street, in the car next to mine, on the chair in the corner, on everyone’s tongue.

It’s this insane ability he had to be larger than life, everywhere, all the time, that earned him his nickname as the Baba of Amman.

Ali Maher, baba. Ali Maher, baba. Ali Maher, baba.

I do not wish dead people peace, ever. Screw peace. Ali Maher was damn disruptive. Ali Maher will live forever. Ali Maher will live forever through all the initiatives he started, his artwork, and our memories of him.

Ali Maher will always be a part of the soul of Amman, stone and mountain, olive tree and oleander.

To quote Picasso’s final words, “Drink to me, drink to my health, you know I can’t drink any more.”

I shall, Ali. I shall.

Oh, what a loss we’ve all had.

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