The gods must be financially inept

Somewhat related to a previous post, I found this today. It seems that our fellow Asians over in India are taking religion to the next level:

AN Indian court has ruled that Hindu gods cannot deal in stocks and shares, after an application for trading accounts to be set up in their names.
Two judges at the Bombay High Court yesterday rejected a petition from a private religious trust to open accounts in the names of five deities, including the revered elephant-headed god, Ganesha.
"Trading in shares on the stock market requires certain skills and expertise and to expect this from deities would not be proper," judges P.B. Majumdar and Rajendra Sawant said, according to Indian newspapers.

Apparently, the judges don't think Ganesha can handle the stresses of the stock market. Who can, right?

Ganesa or Ganesh, also known as Ganapati,
Vinayaka, and Pillaiyar

If it was up to me, they should open up a brokerage firm, or a fund management company in Ganesha's name. Who better to manage your assets than the 'remover of obstacles' who also happens to be immortal?

But the levy was dry

Now that the World Cup is over, what is this dude going to do with his pimped out Chevy Cavalier?

It says "HOLAND" across the top of the trunk.

In retrospect, maybe spray-painting his car fluorescent orange wasn't such a good idea. He's probably kicking himself.

And it's kinda sad that as big a fan of Holland as he is, he can't spell it right. On the other hand, I could be wrong and this masterpiece of modern design could just be an homage to the controversial lost continent of Ho-Land.

If you look closely, you can see that one of his friends left what looks like a Spane flag in the back of the car.

A post with a moral

The other day I was driving on the highway towards Jounieh, and there was quite a bit of traffic. Consequently, there was a fair number of hawkers selling bug zappers, straw hats, cologne, etc. on the side of the road. Just past the tunnel, I saw this guy:

Selling sponges that clean
and shine your dashboard

Well, some guy in a shiny new CLK a few cars ahead of mine decided he wanted one of those sponges and started haggling with the hawker. Traffic was stop-and-go, so the peddler had to jog every few seconds to keep up with the CLK. A few times, traffic was more go than stop, and he had to jog a hundred meters or so to continue negotiating the deal. This went on for some time, and after about one kilometer, the CLK dude decided the sponge was beyond his price range, indicated by the peddler dropping his pursuit of the car.

Now, considering that the price of one of those sponges couldn't have been more than LL 5,000 ($3.33), and the poor peddler had just jogged over a kilometer in the blazing sun trying to make the sale, the guy in the car should have felt bad after the first hundred meters or so and just bought the damn sponge. Instead, he kept the negotiation going and turned the guy down flat.

Moral: Lebanese who drive expensive cars are pricks.

Who's your momma?

This is priceless! It's even better than the Mickey Mouse fatwa. For a list of other bizarre fatwas, click here.

Speaking of breasts, and not to be outdone by the enlightened clerics in Saudi Arabia, the Christian faith has also had its share of weirdos.

Too many staple holes? Bad driver!

The darak have really taken their new traffic law diligence to heart. Every single non-camouflage wearing darakeh that I've seen since Saturday has either been ticketing someone or at least holding a ticket book, looking for someone to bust.

Paying the fine associated with a traffic ticket in Lebanon has historically been a torturous process. It usually involves spending the better portion of a morning navigating the halls of one of our country's numerous administrative buildings, roaming from office to office for a signature here, a form filled there. At some point a visit to a nearby shop is required to buy a government stamp. The process usually ends with the offender feeling frustrated, disgusted, a little tired and somewhat violated. I can't imagine that paying a civil fine in medieval Europe would have been so arduous.

What is the reason for this? As far as I can tell, it is a combination of bad management and corruption. Bad management in the sense that the procedures required to ensure that everything is recorded properly and that the fine is ultimately paid are convoluted and extremely inefficient. Corruption in the sense that there are more government jobs than are strictly needed (our head administrators, for some reason or other, cannot or will not streamline the number of positions under their jurisdictions) so an inefficient system needs to be put in place to give all these people something to do.

This forces the rest of us to wade through a giant pile of red tape to get even the most basic government-related task done, including but not limited to paying traffic fines, passport issue/renewal, anything and everything to do with customs, anything and everything to do with the military, and the list goes on. These hurdles to getting things done must have an impact on the productivity of the country as a whole. In the case of traffic violations, however, they are a blessing in disguise.

I, for one, am not as annoyed at having to part with the L.L.50,000 fine required for a speeding ticket as I am at having to go through the ordeal required to make that payment and get my driver's license back. In the 'civilized' world, a traffic ticket can be paid in under a minute, usually at a drive-thru or online. Contact is only required with at most one government employee (the person sitting behind the window at the drive-thru), and the job is done. But in those countries, they have demerit points that get applied to your driving record that can affect your driving privileges and even your insurance premiums. Our equivalent to this second deterrent (the first being the actual fine) is the aforementioned ordeal.

One funny thing I've noticed: To keep their stacks of issued tickets and confiscated driver's licenses organized, the darak staple their copy of each offender's ticket to that offender's license. Once the offender gets his license back, it has a staple in it, which he/she has to remove. This is an ingenious replacement to the demerit system. All one has to do is count the staple holes in a driver's license to guage that driver's record.

I, being in many ways a typical Lebanese, never wear a seat belt. On Saturday, I got a ticket. So now I grudgingly strap in every time I'm in the car. There are far too many serious traffic accidents in the country, so although I am annoyed at having to wear my seat belt, I also feel that enforcing these laws are necessary, especially since most drivers here wouldn't pass a standard driving test in another country. One of these days my head will explode from an excess of cognitive dissonance.

Of course the current ticketing craze will pass, as does every other fad in the country, social or administrative. We are, after all, in Lebanon.

They still spank children in the Middle East, don't they?

Our leaders are finally regressing back to their childish ways as the novelty of playing grownup in Doha starts to wear off.

Sanioura reportedly responded by crying to the Emir that Nicola stole his lunch money, at which point the Emir put them both in the corner and called their parents.

Asleep Behind the Wheel

Today I stopped at a local bank to do some business. There were, of course, no unoccupied parking spots. However, the bank had conveniently hired parking attendants to ensure that clients would not decide to go somewhere else. So I double parked, and at the attendant's request, left the key in the ignition. I entered the bank, did my business, and returned to my car a few minutes later, only to find the parking attendant sitting in my car with the radio on, asleep! I opened the door, thinking the sound would be sure to wake him up. Wrong. I gently said "Excuse me." No dice. I nudged the guy on the shoulder and he finally woke up with a start. Quickly composing himself, he stepped out of the car and held the door for me as I got in, smiling to myself.

Poor guy was probably up all last night firing his machine gun into the sky (and other unsuspecting targets).