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In August 2023, Jarrad Carlin and I in London, Alex Pires in Paris, and Waylon Bone in New York decided to ignore our three governments’ guidelines and meet in Beirut. I, being, as this zine’s title suggests, of Lebanese origin, had visited the country many times, but not for years and never the city. It turned out to be the hottest August on record ever. Everyone was sick except for me — I was sweating too much, helping myself to the cornucopia of previously 24/7 guarded plazas, which, in the wake of the port explosion and the collapse of the banks, have become rather open playgrounds. I’m sure it’s not just the money, by the way; it really feels as though there has been a communal weighing-up of what is and isn’t worth getting into anything over.

Which brings me to the people.
My God, the people...
Can you imagine someone leaving their work in London, not only to move their car out of your run-up but to instruct their employees to rearrange theirs too, then offer you fruit and cigarettes and coffee and to wash your face?
You’d think they were cannibals!

publications

ABSOLUTE HABIBI

FREEDOM NINETEEN.

IN PARIS & LONDON

POST EIIR