Archive for the ‘beTwixt & beTween’ Category

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.

Hind Don't Sit
For a better Jordan where no one asks you to have a seat by saying “Og3od/Og3odi!”

Good day all :-})



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 ;-})

Anna Cosmonauta by Sardine for Brick in the Head

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 Devil Rocks

“Please allow me to introduce myself …” *

The above is a very quick illustration bemoaning the state of media in Jordan …

In a nutshell, Project Pen did some wall stencils around Amman, and that were sadly mistaken for secret subliminal signs left by cat slaughtering devil worshipers, or as our over zealous media and journalists likes to refer to as Satanists.

For the actual story, more like ignorant sensationalist load of bullshit, which is in Arabic, press on this blue magical link:

So my question to you Mr. & Mrs. Intellectual: What do you do when faced with such a shameless story published in a respectable newspaper?

The reason I am saying it is respectable because I worked there for eight years with its sister newspaper The Star Weekly. Maybe the newspaper took a wrong turn over the years like our educational system that is rearing ignorance and lack of human morals among other things; ignorance that will haunt our society in the future in the form of clueless citizens.

Well, you don’t just publish a status condemning it as stupid and other adjectives that come into mind. Okay, maybe you do that but after just doing that, you pick up the telephone and call the head of the local news department who allowed the piece to get published.

Here is the number:

06 560 8000

Now make some noise before this turns into a witch hunt; and all graffiti and stencil artists are turned into moving targets by ignorant minds!

Since many, including administrators from Project Pen, have probably contacted the editor and the head of the local news department at Addustour, and in fear this black stain in the face of journalism will be removed as if nothing happened here is a screen shot of the actual piece of unprofessional journalism.

Yalla, let us make that ignorant journalist regret the minute he decided to author a sensational piece that feeds on ignorance and fear of the different: Fear of art and freedom of expression.

* The opening line from The Rolling Stones’ Sympathy for the Devil …

Election Symbols

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! 


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:

From one madman to another …


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 …