American Crap After Luminous Jerusalem

[Amman, 7/11/25]

Let me talk, will you?! As I was saying, our preference for beauty and the interesting distort everything. Paintings are overwhelmingly peopled by the young or rich, with ordinary folks too often trotted out to be mocked or, when there’s a social agenda or conscience, presented as allegories, as in Van Gogh’s Potato Eaters. In this age of selfies, so-so Joes and Janes doll themselves up, make duck faces or flex, so there are even more distortions.

Mediocris merely means average. Most likely, you’re not even average, but if you are, you’ll be sub par soon enough, until you’re mercifully sunk into the ground. Me, too.

These mediocre thoughts occurred to me this morning as I sat on the veranda of Jerusalem. Looking down, I saw nothing but ugly buildings, but that’s the beauty of it. People must live or work in them. Though near enough, the Roman Nympheum and Amphitheater couldn’t be seen, but that’s what you’ll find in touristic brochures or TV travelogues. Paris is more Belleville than Champs-Élysée. Most Philadelphians have never glimpsed the Liberty Bell, eaten at Geno’s or heard of Ben Franklin. Forget Thomas Paine.

Yesterday was too exciting. Evening found me inside Pop Café, among old guys watching some shitty Hollywood thriller. To enter, you must walk past some dude at the narrow entrance selling sneakers he can’t be bothered to arrange. On the second floor, in a spartan room with sand colored walls darkened by shisha smoke dating to the Ottoman, Jesus or Moses, there’s always a movie on. As I entered, Jennifer Lopez was getting ready to undress. She showed more flesh in ten seconds than you’d ever see in Amman during several lifetimes. Everybody else in this flick looked great too, as did all the houses, cars and streets. The real Palm Beach, Florida isn’t like that. Of course, these Jordanians were titillated.