Dear Mr. King …

Dear Mr. King,

I hope this letters finds you well!

I am a big big fan. Maybe one of your biggest fans in the whole wide world. Actually on second thoughts I am sure there are bigger fans but I am one of the bigger ones, who is taking the time to write you this letter, buy a stamp for it, lick the icky envelope and send it to you.

I really love how you are able to capture evil be it in the shape of demons, monsters, and spirits, or mere humans. The way with which you also manage to splinter evil in the human psyche is remarkable.

I remember watching It on television. The television series gave me endless chills throughout the late 90s and mid 2000s.

Unlike many I wasn’t traumatized by scary looking clowns, however, I am writing to you to ask you to alter the object with which It lures the boy into the sewer. I am not sure but maybe it was more of a storm drain than a sewer.

Anyhow…

Why did it have to be a paper boat? Paper boats are great symbols of childish innocence.

You twisted it into an object of evil lure. I never looked at a paper boat the same. In fact every time my father made me a paper boat I run screaming.

Don’t get me started on Misery. Wooden beams and hammers were never the same after that scene with Kathy Bates and James Caan.

Going back to the boats … can you ask the producers to go back and CGI that scene. Maybe replace the paper boat with a crocodile origami maybe!

If you don’t comply I will ask my friends, who are also fans, to write a big and loud petition. As a big invested fan in your books and movies I believe I have every right to control your creative output.

P.S. I hope you understand I am not just a fan. I am “the” fan, who wants the best from you. I know deep down there is a good writer within you waiting to write more great books.

Helmut Winey Mach Fann
1996

Beat & Fight The Bully

Beat and fight the bully … never kowtow.

These will be handmade so if you used to get bullied bring me a white tshirt and I will make one for you on the spot and for free. Inbox me beforehand … 

By the way both versions will only come in white so that the blood you bleed, as you fight them goddamn bullies, shows.

Will soon reveal the story behind these or maybe not … let the bully in obscurity, cowardice and banality rot … yalla join the fight!

Sardine 2019

#sardineart #sardine #tshirts #fightthebully#antibullying #tee #tshirts #free #wild 

Beware Beirut … Go To Afghanistan This Summer!

So “Bahrain Orders Citizens to ‘Immediately’ Leave Lebanon After Prime Minister’s Surprise Resignation …”

Hmm …

Somehow Lebanon every now and then morphs back into the-Hollywood Delta Force / Navy Seals version.

Idiots!

It is 2017 and they still want to portray Lebanon as the most dangerous spot in the world!

Anyhow have no fear … thanks to Chuck Norris and Charlie Sheen there are ways to survive a trip to Lebanon.

First and foremost avoid the Manaqish … kidding! You will eat your fingers after eating their Mankousheh!

Oh … back to surviving Lebanon!

Just watch The Chuck Norris / Charlie Sheen Straight To Video How To Survive Lebanon and The Lebanese.

Hope you know what satire is!

All the love Lebanon … don’t mind the haters!

The Chuck Norris Lebanon Survival Manual feat. Lee Marvin and a VW van:

Charlie Sheen’s How to Survive A Day In A Cliched Hollywood Beirut Guide feat. A Product Placement Mercedes:

Brick In The Head
2017

#la_teg3odi_ya_hind

A while ago I tweeted the following:

“Wake up, Wake up / Grab a brush “Ya Hind” and put a little makeup! System of Yehia ِAl Saud! Stay strong Miss Fayez!”

It was my way of commenting on the incident in which MP Yehia Al Saud, ordered MP Hind Al Fayez to have a seat during her recent outburst.The phrasing itself, “Eg3odi Ya Hind!” with the tone he used and in our Arabian society is a phrase that automatically translates to “be quiet!” and not in a very polite context.

Fortunately for us and every woman in Jordan, and in the Middle East, MP Hind Al Fayez stood her ground. Her bold stance made international headlines.

I am positive that if my Editor Mr. Walid Kalaji (Abu Hassan) was alive he would have written an editorial of what happened under the supposed “Jordanian Dome of Democracy!” I am also positive Miss Maha Al Sharif, our most patient boss, would have also had a say in the matter.

Abu Hassan would have upplauded MP Al Fayez for standing her ground. Ghassan Joha would have most probably been there.

“I am glad you stood your guns!” he once told me after I finished defending a piece that I have written. It was a piece that was slated for publishing. I cannot remember if my piece was not altered but to be honest after giving a good reasonable fight you somewhat feel a little better about yourself when it does get altered.

I always fought for my pieces with every editor I worked with at The Star, and other local publications. Ali Al Khalil, one of the bright editors, and a man I admired for his love of arts, films and books, was no exception.

Journalists, writers, and editors are supposed to give each other headaches. If there are no headaches the result of arguments about a sentence/a paragraph; its phrasing; or the information it is supposed to entail within the mind of a reader that very sentence/paragraph would be lifeless, if not useless.

I am guessing I am missing journalism and my own State of Play or “Something Something Dark Side.” Major spoiler ahead! Yes, I watched State of Play (2009), directed by Kevin Macdonald, starring Russel Crowe, Rachel MacAdams and Dame Helen Mirren, the other day.

As the end credits rolled by to the visuals of a newspaper in print to the sound of Creedence Clearwater Revival‘s As Long As I See the Light I found myself yearning to those sleepless nights. You see I was there amidst a family of journalists!

Time to stop reminiscing!

In addition to that Tweet about the Og3odi Ya Hind incident a t-shirt with the hopeful hash-tag that came to be #la_teg3odi_ya_hind was made with the help of a friend and a fellow cartoonist, and with one thing in mind:

A simple design … but a loud message.

For a better Jordan where no one asks you to have a seat by saying “Og3od/Og3odi!”

Good day all :-})

 

The Miracle of Mecha and a Very Short Blog Post

So my last Brick in the Head post was in August 28. Almost two months and a half ago – wow I can do math!

I apologize for not blogging as much as I should but I have been going through a new phase in my career: The freelance artist/illustrator/writer and translator phase.

It is a lifestyle that has a different pace than that of a full-time job. May I add a lot of discipline.

At the moment I finishing a 20 page short comic that I was commissioned to do. Will share the details on that one soon. I also have an art project ahead. So in a way I am gaining more momentum as a comic artist.

So I am up illustrating and I felt like sharing the following blog post about the process of making a giant robot suit by the one and only Stan Winston School of Character Arts [press on the magical sentence to enter an amazing world of movie magic].

The video that comes in seven parts is beyond inspiring :-})

“Jump in, create art, create characters. Create robots. Create whatever it is that makes your heart sing. Start today. What are you waiting for?” Matt Winston, son ofvisual effects legend Sam Winston, summarizes creativity, the creative process and art in a nutshell.

So if you have the time watch the building process. They are seven amazing videos.

In  addition to inspiring me watching this video also made me sad because a lot of people out there – evil minded people – don’t create; they just kill and destroy everything that our humanity stands for: Creativity and love of life.

So from this Homo sapien I wish you all a good evening  … good evening all … good evening my world!

P.S: Expect more blog posts sometime soon ;-})

I Did Not Ask For Change Yet Someone Handed me Some Today!

So between waking up at 6:30 a.m. to host a radio show that I’ve been presenting for eight years, contemplating life; the passing away of an aunt I only knew through photographs and via telephone; drawing a heavily armed geisha; taking my lovely girl to her first day at kindergarten; submitting new t-shirt designs to Threadless; and work I find myself gazing at this screen that reflects my cyber existence and thinking of what to do next!

A lot of lessons learned today. This should be a blog entry. Maybe it is time to write my open letter to Shepard Fairey with the following title:

“Don’t You Think It Is Time For You To Renounce Your Obama ‘Hope’ Poster Mr. Fairey? He Tricked Everyone So No One Really Blames You!” Will keep you posted on this one.

On a different note dear Arabian friends who post V for Vendetta images as their profile header and banner. Do you have a clue what V stands for? V most certainly does not represent your backward thinking.

V stands for freedom. Freedom of thought, freedom of soul, freedom of sexuality and freedom of existence and since a lot of Arabs, especially the backward ones, do not believe in any of these refrain from using him as your header and banner.

If you read the comic book than you will understand the above comment. So read the comic book, understand who V is and then use his image. If you got offended by my comment than maybe you should not be following me. Piss off!

No off to do some drawing after a rather interesting life changing day. I really hate those days when they happen but then I try to do what a cat that was flung head first from the roof of a tall building would do – try to land on my fuckin’ feet. Me-ouch!

Sorry for not posting much in the past few months but it has been a crazy year. A rather good year. I will most definitely get back to blogging more. Will tell you more in another blog post; maybe when I land on my feet and dust off my clothes.

A good evening to all the bat out there!

Mike V. Derderian a.k.a Sardine

August 29, 2013

Illustration: Anna Cosmonauta by Mike V. Derderan, ink on paper

The Missing Electoral Symbol

Sometimes a stupid concept that is utilized in an inane democratic process requires a stupid design!

This is definitely one of those moments in life where something had to be done …

Jordan’s 17th parliament just got elected and many candidates had different symbols inserted in their visually impaired and eye polluting campaign boards that were hang around our city – one candidate had a nice little horsie as an electoral symbol. How cute!

Our parliament is a waste of public funds and is morally bankrupt; and I believe the above symbols should have been among the symbols used.

Jordanian citizens sadly know the true mettle of many candidates, and know that they are paying the lifelong salaries of inept politicians, yet they fail to oust them and ban them from representing us.

So I guess you now know where I stand from parliamentary elections!

Thank you for following my blog :-})

P.S: I promise to get back to writing fiction! 

نابليون الثالث

مات نابليون الثالث ولكنه لم يمت في حضن جوزفين الدافئ وفي فراش مصنوع من الريش والحرير والقماش الدمشقي. مات تحت قبة السماء المزركشة بالنجوم وفي احضان عمان، تلك الحبيبة القاسية. مات البشري الذي تبختر في شوارع البلد الافعوانية مثل القط صاحب الجزمة. مات! هل حقا مات أم هو راقد في البشير ينتظر شلة من اصحابه الصعاليك وفتيات الليل ليجعلوا منه الرجل الذي مات مرتين! فجأة وجدت نفسي في ستديو فوتو برامونت جالسا، على مقعد مستدير بلا اذرع أو ظهر، أحملق في الامواج البشرية، التي تتكسر على ارصفة الشارع، من وراء زجاج باب ألمنيوم. تصدح اصوات الاجراس المعلقة على الباب ويدخل رجلا مرتديا بزة سوداء وجزمة جلدية قررت أن لا تصل لخصره النحيل. ضفائر سميكة تصل لكتفيه اتحدت مع لحيته الكثة التي لم تغطي ملامح وجهه الودود والذي تشقق جلده بسبب قبلات الشمس الحارة. “مرحبا! كيف حالك اليوم يا أبو مايك؟ كيف حالك يا صغير؟” رفضت الكلمات أن تخرج من فمي الذي قرر أن يتموضع على شكل ابتسامة. سرعان ما جلس هذا الرجل الذي أراه لأول مرة في حياتي، والذي كان حاملا جريدة تحت إبطه، على الكرسي المواجه لكرسي والدي. بعد لحظات من حديث لا اتذكره، لأنني كنت مازلت مدهوشا بمنظره الساحر، قرر هذا الشيخ العجيب النهوض من على الكرسي. “حسنا! إلى اللقاء!” بعد أن القى التحية على والدي وعلي اختفي بين الامواج البشرية. سألت والدي، “من هذا الرجل؟” لم يقل شيئا سوى، “صديق!” مرت السنين وها قد مات هذا الصديق الذي رأيته في محل تصوير والدي عدة مرات وبات ذكرى في عقل كاتب شاب يتجول بين سنين عمره، متنقلا ما بين الماضي والحاضر بإتجاه مستقبله مع  احبائه. فليرقد جسدك بسلام يا نابليون الثالث لأن روحك من الآن فصاعدا ستعيش مع الكلمات. يتبع

ملاحظة: عندي عدة مدونات محبوسة في رأسي ولكن أغلبها ذات طابع هجومي على النخبوية والعمل في عمان. ساشاركها فيما بعد وحتى ذلك الحين شكرا لكل متابعي هذه المدونة التي يكتبها شخص يحب
عمان، الأردن ولكنه يكره نخبويتها

وبالعنجليزي الامبريالي الاستعماري حسب قولة واحد عاهة رأسه لسه عم بيكبر في الأردن

I was having an evening tea with the Mrs. and my parents. Dad and I started talking about the Down Town Napoleon, who used to pass by his photography studio Photo Paramount.

I don’t know why I immediately saw the above visual.

I always loved the Johnnie Walker logo especially the full bodied one and Napoleon, who played the madman quite well was dressed in the same manner.

Here is a picture of Napoleon: http://bit.ly/S45d4c

From one madman to another …

Click. Click. Click!

 

Click. Click. Click! His fingers hit the keys. Pause!

The clicks silently died. Some motherfucker piece of shit lied! They always do with sick minds that they hide under a well coiffed hairdo! Click. Click. Click! Another pause! Confusion slit the throat of his thoughts like a slithering assassin under the shadow of the night. Call it a mental fight or a fanciful flight amidst the clouds that obstruct his jaded jilted judgment … day has arrived.

Children dying … No! Children being killed! The Arab world, the treacherous parts, with empty promises is filled. Lecherous Oil Sheikhs are with our blood thrilled. I hear the weather in Kabul at this time of the year is quite beautiful. Get a hint assholes! Pack up your bags and settle in the mountainous mosquito and cockroach filled holes.

The newborn crucifix holders aren’t any better he thought. Fuck that second cumming shit! Click. Click. Click! Grab a gun and splatter your brain here and thither on the wall of silence. Book a one way ticket to Armageddon. Suck on the cold barrel and vaya con Dios.

Click. Click! Click!

The writer, with a half-dead cigarette hanging between his cracked lips, the keys again hit. Broken sentences falling from his mouth and unto the page; a tissue to his mental drooling.

Click. Click. Click! Who is he fooling?

A third pause! He takes a long look in the mirror where he sees a misfit (by choice) sitting behind a mint green Olivetti typing and typing …

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click …

I Am With the Uprising of Arab Women Because …

 

Yes “I am with the uprising of Arab women because they don’t need men to justify their existence!”

Sardine, from Amman, Jordan.

The above is the closest translation to the original message. By the way, I am not calling for women to go stark naked in support of their rights. I just see things as a satirist, a writer and a comic artist.

This is the text that inspired the visual and that I original published on my FB page Thoughts from Within a Sardine Can:

لا، إنها لا تريد السترة! لا تريد سترتك. لا تريد جاكيتتك. لا تريد صديري بذلتك الرجولية. لا تريد قميصك الحريري. لا تريد كنزتك المصنوعة من صوف الماعز الجبلي. إنها لا تريد شيئا سوى التحرر من مخالبك. هل يمكنك أن تلبي طلبها يا أيها الرجل صاحب الشنب الرجولي والذي يكاد يتحول لاذرع شبيه باذرع الاخطبوط المتربص تحت ركام قارب غرق في بحر من الظلمات مع كل من فيه. مرة أخرى اكرر: إنها لا تريد السترة. لا تريد سترتك. إنها لا تحتاج سترتك! إستر نفسك يا من تقول عنها عورة! تمت. سيقوم كاتب هذه الفقرة التي قد يعتبرها البعض مفيدة، والبعض الأخر سيحتقرها، برسم رسمة تعبيرية مرافقة لها. نرجو من قراء السردين المعلب أن يتابعونا في الساعات القادم

I am just sticking to my guns and what I believe in as a human being! Yalla support The Uprising of Women in the Arab World now! To disagree with my way of thinking is your divine right and I don’t have the right to condemn you as you don’t have the right to condemn me.

تفكيري لا يجب أن يكون سبب تكفيري