I just randomly read two articles that facebook friends had posted on their walls.

The first article was a satirical ranting (well, I'll assume it was satire) by a woman who wishes she were a boy because boys are better at everything, like sports and Maths. Man, talk about stereotyping. It's one thing when a guy stereotypes us women, but when a woman knowingly does it to her own gender... wow, that's just pathetic. Anyway, I say the article was a satire because the author spends the last half of her article talking about how all genocide in history was committed by men, with men as their right-hand-guys.

Then, I read the second article. This was written for some blog that endorses Darwin and the like. It reported the results of recent research reiterating already known facts about female animals that have multiple sexual partners being more likely to carry on the male chromosome. The article's tone was such that this fact about female animals should be generalized to the human race, that women with multiple sexual partners will be more likely to help carry on the human race, specifically men.

Does anyone else see the connection here? My only thought after diagonally reading the two articles was: "If men are the brains behind genocide, then wouldn't it stand to reason that women should refrain from multiple sexual partners?"

Just a Saturday night thought...

It was October 9th when I last posted something on my blog. Has it really been that long?

Yesterday was the day of my thesis proposal defense. Many peopl have looked at me with surprise when I tell them I must defend not only my thesis but als the proposal. "Why?" they ask. How should I know? All I know is, if I want to graduate, I must do this. I discovered yesterday exactly how appropriate the word 'defense' is in this situation.

I had been told not to worry since I would simply be sharing about my work. I sat at the table in the seminar room, Jesup Hall room 107 - a room i have grown to know so well, having taken four of my graduate courses there over the past year and a half.

On my left sat my thesis advisor (maybe one day I will be as confident in this subject as he). The other two members of my thesis committee sat on my right. I presented my experiment with a little bit of theoretical background within 15 minutes, using MS PowerPoint. And then, I picked up my sword and shield. I sat through 45 minutes of grueling questions, albeit significant and necessary, and delivered in the most polite manner. Then I waited outside for another 50 minutes, while the committee discussed my proposal. (I think it was more a case of my advisor giving an additional tutorial on Self-Categorization Theory, levels of inclusiveness of identity, and F. Traboulsi's expertise in Lebanese history).

50 minutes later, when I felt that my stomach had fallen to my toes, I was called back into the interrogation room. I don't think I realized the momentous words when my advisor said, "First of all, we would like to congratulate you on the success of your proposal defense..." Twenty minutes later, I was done. Save for a few amendments and clarifications, including an improved design - moving from a repeated measures design to a mixed model experiment, so exciting - I have defended and been approved.

Now if only the Institutional Review Board of Ethics could be so quick...

In the year 3010:

"Once upon a time, long ago, there arose a rumour that a certain nation - one of the world's great powers - had at some point in history attempted to wipe out an entire people group in what would have been called the first genocide of its century. The supposed ethnic cleansing had not worked, and the victims tried relentlessly to get the power empire to 'fess up'. They entreated the support of other superpowers in the world, but were unsuccessful with the most dominant ones. You see, politics was very much a part of the whole situation. The victim nation had no oil, nothing to render it valuable enough to the world to make defending it worthwhile.

Eventually, irrespective of the victims scattered throughout the world as a supposed result of the ethnic cleansing process, the victim nation made peace with the powerful nation, regardless of the rumours and truth. This put an end, once and for all, to the question of the Armenian Genocide, and the return of certain lands that had been captured by Turkey before World War I. After some time, near-complete assimilation occurred in the world, as the Armenians in the diaspora gave up. They became as other people groups who have been forcefully moved to other lands centuries ago - African Americans, Jews, Kurds. They are, in essence, no more."

This is what will happen to us, now that the Armenian government has succumbed to its greedy belly and signed a 'peace treaty' with Turkey. The father of the house has sold his daughter into prostitution.

I was tagged in a note by my friend on facebook, and this time I actually filled it out. I was supposed to list 17 books that I've read and that have made enough impact on me that I feel these books will always stick with me. So, here they are, in no specific order (I wonder how different the list will look in five years... people change, you know):
1. Black Dog of Fate
2. Merlin
3. The Divine Conspiracy
4. Red Moon Rising
5. Pity the Nation
6. Prayer
7. Multiple Social Categorization
8. Lord of the Rings (3 count as 1)
9. Shakespeare's Hamlet
10. The Bible
11. DSM-IV
12. To Kill a Mockingbird
13. Jesus Freaks
14. Velvet Elvis
15. Blackwell Handbook of Social Psychology: Intergroup Processes
16. This is Namibia
17. Poems of Pablo Neruda

It happens every time. You cross the invisible threshold from the international, Western, individualistic culture of the airport into the wing designated to the Beirut-bound flight, and culture shock hits you. It doesn't matter which airport it is - Heathrow, Frankfurt, Charles de Gaule - the same thing happens every time.

Personal space shrinks to an almost non-existent bubble; the general volume increases, as do the gestures in conversations; there is always at least one infant out to prove the strength of his lungs; and no matter how assimilated some of the passengers are in the West (those who have immigrated there, that is), they inevitably forget those acquired 'Western' mannerisms the moment they cross the invisible threshold.

It's as if the Middle East wants to remind me - and anyone else traveling in that direction - that she is alive and thriving, and refuses to become as placid and 'proper' as the West, even as she fraternizes with the business, arts, and politics of it.

But honestly, can anyone ever forget the Middle East once they have come in contact with her? More importantly, would anyone want to?

I'm on my way to Northern Ireland... to Broughshane, Ballymena, to be exact. So, I'll see you there for the next month. No more posts about sun and heat. I hope you've missed the rain.

Would you there is an obsession here? We joke that the defining feature of Vicken's and my dad's friendship is their common love for Macs. Don't you think that warrants freebies from the Mac lab? And what does it mean when the daughters of the Mac-lovers follow in their fathers' footsteps?

I can't help it. I love my Mac!

From L to R: Vicken on his iPone, Thia on her iBook G4 (I know, the antique!), Narineh on her dad's Powerbook, John on his MacbookPro.

The neighbours in the building across the street have replaced the parquet floor on their roof garden with fresh new wood paneling. As a result, they've had to find a way to rid themselves of the old wood. Their solution? Burn it all. For a few nights in a row now, they've filled a barrel with the discarded parquet and burnt it. They've filled the night air with the sweet scent of forest and charcoal, a tribute to summer campfires and BBQs.

The photo above is very primitive, but one can make out the wood ablaze in the barrel, the neighbour responsible for the charred wood, and the plants in the glow of the green lights of the roof garden. I suspect their summer roof parties will commence very soon.