If you haven’t done so already, read this first.
Last night, between 3 and 4AM, Lebanon’s revolution died. This country’s only hope burned down to the ground, and unlike the Phoenix, it will not rise again, which proves that God doesn’t exist.
When I started Lebanon’s nightlife a few years ago, I had hope. Hope for a place where I could smoke weed, curse non-existent gods, and look for someone to get civil married to. And so, SkyBar was born.
SkyBar is, like me, an icon of Lebanon’s nightlife. Actually, SkyBar, like me, was an icon for Lebanon and the world. The great thing about SkyBar is that when I went in, I could leave all my problems at the door. Literally. All those people that didn’t look rich enough to get in could stay behind and leave me alone to party the night away with the only people who matter: the people that are just like me.
At its peak, SkyBar had thousands of people in it. That’s nothing compared to the millions of hits I get on my blog, but for a nightclub, it was impressive. And all of those people, every single one of them, agreed with everything I ever had to say. It was kinda awesome.
From there, people like me would fix this country. With every Coke (I don’t really drink alcohol) I would drink there, I would help my country fix its roads, its electricity. Every ice cube was a vote for a president, and every peanut was giving food to the starving refugees. From SkyBar, I was going to save the country. It was almost as effective as the Ana campaign I launched 2 years ago.
In SkyBar, people came together to start a revolution. That revolution usually started at about 5AM, once the bill came to $4800, and we all talked about how great and equal SkyBar was, and how we wish the rest of the world was like this.
The electronic music they played, which I introduced to Lebanon in the 1990s, was like a big Fuck You to the call to prayer that oppressed so many people early in the morning.
In SkyBar, no one was ever angry. There were no fights. Ever. If there was a fight, it was probably because of someone who came in at the bar, not someone from the VIP section. The only time I heard of violence at SkyBar was when someone important slapped the woman at the door, which I thought was a great thing to do, lest the woman at the door think she is one of us.
SkyBar, like me, has also always been a bastion of feminism. How else would you explain the fact that girls were encouraged to wear as little as possible? Or that they can show their cleavage to get in to the bar? In SkyBar, the more women showed their breasts, the more they showed the world how free they are. That’s feminism right there! I even spoke about it to my friends at CNN and Vice.
Another proof that SkyBar set an example for the country is that it was OK for hot lesbians to grind against each other. The selective policy at the door meant that only feminine and hot women could get in, so it was OK for them to make out for my pleasure. Thank goodness, gay guys were never allowed to kiss. If you all know anything about me it’s that I am the biggest advocate for gay rights in Lebanon, but gay guys kissing in public…That’s just disgusting.
SkyBar was especially important because it fit my definition of Liberalism, and that’s the only definition that matters. With war and mass killing all around us, SkyBar was our best defense against Daesh, simply because the bouncers at the door would never let someone from Daesh get in.
I know that many people will mock me for this article, but that’s because they don’t live in the world I live in. They are probably people who have never been to SkyBar, and why would you listen to anything they ever have to say. Besides, if they disagree with me, then they’re most probably either Hezbollah or Daesh. SkyBar was the revolution, and now the revolution is over.
