(Alpha, TV-Tiglon, 12:54 a.m, 03/15/2007)
Fotis to Bilio: Why did you invite Elli Kokkinou (female troubadour of modern Greek psalm) at your show? I mean, from Giannis Kotsiras [male troubadour wandering around "caltsoure" (sic) (sorry, such a "greek" comment) Greek tv shows] there's a great distance.
(Messing sneakily with the signal)
Industrial Daisies to Fotis: It's the previous name on my phone book. What great distance? Kourkoulis is next and Kimoulis the last (he switched sides and preferred Lampiri, that is not to be forgotten easily!)
Worst case scenario: The distinctive signs of cultural decay: Difference in "quality" is to be traced through phonebooks. (Spooky!)
Best case scenario: Lampiri under cover, replacing Bilio's phonebook with a copy of hers.
Thursday, 15 March 2007
Wednesday, 14 March 2007
Tuesday, 13 March 2007
Attention: Smoking can cause serious damage to reality.
Inhale. Don't look down, you' ll step on someone... Walk faster, ask for directions, you are lost... Traffic jam... People walking as fast as they can to make it on time... Where am I walking to so slowly? Inhale. Fag put out.
Inhale. I feel dizzy. Tobacco rings wreathing the square. O mind, where art thou? Left alone and sad, like the first day at school. Inhale. Look down, you look like a suspect. Don't cross sight, you have nothing to say. Get out of this mess. Inhale. My throat is on fire. Fag put out.
Inhale. Divine music spread in my head. "Audio reality" is much better than plain reality. Inhale. I am not walking. I want to escape all this. You can do it. Follow the music into the nearest state of mind. Inhale. I am here. Escape some other time, now you are busy, loser. Inhale. Fag put out.
Inhale. I am here. How long am I standing in front of this screen? Has it been forever? Can you reach immortality only when bored? Inhale. Basic action. Proceed with the ordinary. Inhale.
Freeze! Every chemical reaction that leads to thinking is from now on strictly forbidden. Despair is not appropriate for offices. Inhale. Fag put out.
Inhale. I feel dizzy. Tobacco rings wreathing the square. O mind, where art thou? Left alone and sad, like the first day at school. Inhale. Look down, you look like a suspect. Don't cross sight, you have nothing to say. Get out of this mess. Inhale. My throat is on fire. Fag put out.
Inhale. Divine music spread in my head. "Audio reality" is much better than plain reality. Inhale. I am not walking. I want to escape all this. You can do it. Follow the music into the nearest state of mind. Inhale. I am here. Escape some other time, now you are busy, loser. Inhale. Fag put out.
Inhale. I am here. How long am I standing in front of this screen? Has it been forever? Can you reach immortality only when bored? Inhale. Basic action. Proceed with the ordinary. Inhale.
Freeze! Every chemical reaction that leads to thinking is from now on strictly forbidden. Despair is not appropriate for offices. Inhale. Fag put out.
Monday, 12 March 2007
3_00
300: Forget everything you knew about fighting. Every single thing you were taught about survival. Every minor strategy you used until now to gain something. Actually, you have to go way back, perhaps at the very moment your ethical or whatever kind of education began.
"Spartaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaans!!! Attack!". The voice of the mighty leader tears mountains to two pieces. Audience thrilled, ecstatic; proud descendants of ancient fearless shapely warriors. Pop corn and Coke sips, greedy eyes staring at the giant screen waiting for moments of national pride and massacre. The important thing is to keep consuming. Stay focused.
I liked it. Not because of the artistic view (that was pretty good but actually I prefer pure, genuine Frank Miller) or because of the exciting effects. By now I believe that movie industry has already burned its card of special effects; yes gentlemen, you trained us so well that now you cannot impress us as easily as you could.
But I liked it! I, the "alternative/underground/miserably- looking-for-higher-aesthetic-or art- quality" type left my sit filled with a sense of being untouchable.I felt strong, concentrated, mighty warrior (not princess Xena though). So pondering upon this matter, unable to psychoanalyze myself and why (oh why?) I liked it, I ended up to a basic -but of great importance- conclusion.
Unlike most of the Greeks, the source of my excitement did not lie on feeling a proud offspring of Leonidas or Hercules nor on the fact that for the first time during the last decade an ancient Greek hero was not presented as a gay spoiled ancestor of a nation now proudly and consistently following that tradition. It lies upon the very essence of one of the aspects of good (or at least sincere) film-making: inspire the masses, entertain, be special BUT keep it pop. Make them identify with a hero just for a weak tiny little moment and then show what acts of grandiose one (with tons of millions and special effects) could do if only he had lived through a different period in history.
Seriously, it is quite important nowadays to have moments when you feel important (as an offspring of great men) or untouchable (even though your belly may be sweeping the floor). In that point of view "300" succeeded at what previous movies didn't even conceive.
Also, one should acknowledge the fact that it was a good effort in showing some of the essence of why ancient Greeks fought, besides the fact that it is in human nature. Glory through vanity; freedom through death. ... ? But, really, does movie industry truly expect masses of consumers, drown into pop corns, nachos and liters of Coke, hidden behind trademarks to understand that? No, but there's always gonna be a bunch of 300, somewhere, to defy trademark and challenge it holding a medal shield.
3:00 a.m.: Lying at the sofa, smoking a fag, my pride and sense of untouchable totally collapsed (like that wall of corpses), zapping... A kid, obviously a runaway from his skateboard, is so glad in his kitchen demonstrating fine art recipes. Zap. A fat lady surrounded by casseroles, holding a knife threatening to teach us how to cook salmon saute in a dip of caviar and... Zap. Off. Enough grandiose and pride for one day.
Really, in a country of eleven million habitants how many cook shows are considered enough? At 3:00 a.m. However, in a funny/mysterious/naive way, we feel, we ARE (?), the fallen offspring of great men who nowadays are making profit for Hollywood's sake. In a way we do that too. "Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeks! Consume!" Oh, how untouchable and proud I feel!
Traditional ancient spartan dinner
Saturday, 10 March 2007
Oh, what a magical world!
It is yellow, full of holes and in real world wouldn't survive for more than five minutes... What is it?
Having already spent two days in bed, surrounded by pills, antibiotics, tissues and a variety of hallucinations, I find myself in the pleasant position to announce that I have found a new, magical world. By now I have already watched about a full season episodes of SpongeBob Squarepants and about a dozen episodes of Southpark (yes, I know, these things are well known elsewhere but here in Greece showing cops beating students seems to be more interesting to show on TV).
What is it actually that makes a squarepants-kinda goofy-annoyingly happy sponge seem so lovable? Do audiences identify more easily with a character that looks familiar or with a character that is so different from them? Cause, really, Spongebob is like the child we once were only living in a simulation of the adults' world. And he actually makes it through pretty well in his pineapple house and his square pants and tie... Whereas, we adults, seem to be having trouble in the real world...
If only we could make it through by laughing and making bubbles! Maybe that's why he is so adorable. He is a reminder of how simple things used to be once upon a time. Goofing around with your best friend could make you forget all your problems and -most important- even though you always moved in a world of greedy-humorless-sly grown ups that had no impact on you, in a mysterious way!
So, Spongebob reminds me of how it used to be before everything turned out to be so complicated. And, just maybe, he is an adult's wish that he seems so adorable despite the misery he is in... Spongebob is actually giving someone the opportunity to find himself adorable even though he might be working for a few pennies or be so far away from what he really wants... And that's really something; when everything and everyone around us is trying to convince us that we are of no importance and we can have no impact on what's happening Spongebob is there to comfort us and carry us away in his magical-shiny bubbles...
Southpark is another story... A bunch of kids that in the real world would be what we call "punks" and would make any grown-up feel appalled by today's kids, but here they make us laugh... With what in real world would make us feel ashamed or cry. But this is another story...
I am going to blow my nose once again hoping that bubbles will come out of my ears and my eyes will twist... Oh, really, what a magical world!
Having already spent two days in bed, surrounded by pills, antibiotics, tissues and a variety of hallucinations, I find myself in the pleasant position to announce that I have found a new, magical world. By now I have already watched about a full season episodes of SpongeBob Squarepants and about a dozen episodes of Southpark (yes, I know, these things are well known elsewhere but here in Greece showing cops beating students seems to be more interesting to show on TV).
What is it actually that makes a squarepants-kinda goofy-annoyingly happy sponge seem so lovable? Do audiences identify more easily with a character that looks familiar or with a character that is so different from them? Cause, really, Spongebob is like the child we once were only living in a simulation of the adults' world. And he actually makes it through pretty well in his pineapple house and his square pants and tie... Whereas, we adults, seem to be having trouble in the real world...
If only we could make it through by laughing and making bubbles! Maybe that's why he is so adorable. He is a reminder of how simple things used to be once upon a time. Goofing around with your best friend could make you forget all your problems and -most important- even though you always moved in a world of greedy-humorless-sly grown ups that had no impact on you, in a mysterious way!
So, Spongebob reminds me of how it used to be before everything turned out to be so complicated. And, just maybe, he is an adult's wish that he seems so adorable despite the misery he is in... Spongebob is actually giving someone the opportunity to find himself adorable even though he might be working for a few pennies or be so far away from what he really wants... And that's really something; when everything and everyone around us is trying to convince us that we are of no importance and we can have no impact on what's happening Spongebob is there to comfort us and carry us away in his magical-shiny bubbles...
Southpark is another story... A bunch of kids that in the real world would be what we call "punks" and would make any grown-up feel appalled by today's kids, but here they make us laugh... With what in real world would make us feel ashamed or cry. But this is another story...
I am going to blow my nose once again hoping that bubbles will come out of my ears and my eyes will twist... Oh, really, what a magical world!
Thursday, 8 March 2007
1+1=2?
One, two, three... Like a, b, c...
I am numbers. I am my social security number, my ID number, my student ID number, my bank account number, the bar code on everything I like to eat, the number of my sit in the theater, my telephone number, the number of the metro line I use everyday...
I like numbers. In my mind they match and they combine in a magic way. I can easily remember a phone number or anything having to do with them. Music can be expressed in a mathematic way. Even God can be expressed in numbers -One...Or maybe the size of those who believe.
What is the number for sorrow? Or maybe for happiness... For curiosity? For moments of brilliance, or stupidity or maybe for making love?
To the vast majority of people around us we are just a number. A walkie-talkie bar code. We are treated like numbers; there's always someone above us on the list, someone next and someone who will take our place when we leave this place. This world we've created wants us "decoded", analyzed into other numbers. This world we've created wants us to express through numbers, to eliminate every trace of soul, thought, sentiment...
We feel. Let's not end up calculating. Accountancy is so boring...
I am numbers. I am my social security number, my ID number, my student ID number, my bank account number, the bar code on everything I like to eat, the number of my sit in the theater, my telephone number, the number of the metro line I use everyday...
I like numbers. In my mind they match and they combine in a magic way. I can easily remember a phone number or anything having to do with them. Music can be expressed in a mathematic way. Even God can be expressed in numbers -One...Or maybe the size of those who believe.
What is the number for sorrow? Or maybe for happiness... For curiosity? For moments of brilliance, or stupidity or maybe for making love?
To the vast majority of people around us we are just a number. A walkie-talkie bar code. We are treated like numbers; there's always someone above us on the list, someone next and someone who will take our place when we leave this place. This world we've created wants us "decoded", analyzed into other numbers. This world we've created wants us to express through numbers, to eliminate every trace of soul, thought, sentiment...
We feel. Let's not end up calculating. Accountancy is so boring...
Pavlov's Dog
I find myself recently unable to socialize easily...
The other day I was trying to have a "civilized" chat with my boss -who I see almost every day and scenes of mass destruction and brutal murder cross my mind instantly- but only to find out that there was nothing I could say since I am not up-to-date...
I also hadn't seen a couple of friends for a long time and I thought catching up was a good idea. Yet, after a while, I ended up drowning my boredom in cheap beer listening to the television broadcast and breaking news live on the table.
It wasn't until yesterday that i realized there's something wrong with me. One of my best friends called and wanted to see me -'cause ya know...Time passes by...And work is responsible for all these lost moments between friends...- TODAY.
I panicked... Cold sweat running down my forehead and my palms frozen. Oh my God!, what on earth happened and I HAVE to know? I managed to remain calm and used an obvious excuse, like "Oh damn, I'd love to but you know how my boss is a bitch etc..."
What's wrong with me? Where is my personal antenna? I cannot reach signal from people I know. Maybe my decoder has broken down. Maybe my link is unavailable. Oh no, I dare not even say it... Maybe my subscription has expired!!!!!!!!
Communication has reached a different level. We use TV language, we incarnate TV-personas in our relationships, we talk about everything on the news. Future "clochards" will be those not watching TV. We create great distances which we are unable to cover without a remote control in our hands and an-always-functioning antenna in our heads. We are trained to become TV soldiers-in time.
Report everything - record everything.
Monkey say - Monkey do.
Destroy target.
The other day I was trying to have a "civilized" chat with my boss -who I see almost every day and scenes of mass destruction and brutal murder cross my mind instantly- but only to find out that there was nothing I could say since I am not up-to-date...
I also hadn't seen a couple of friends for a long time and I thought catching up was a good idea. Yet, after a while, I ended up drowning my boredom in cheap beer listening to the television broadcast and breaking news live on the table.
It wasn't until yesterday that i realized there's something wrong with me. One of my best friends called and wanted to see me -'cause ya know...Time passes by...And work is responsible for all these lost moments between friends...- TODAY.
I panicked... Cold sweat running down my forehead and my palms frozen. Oh my God!, what on earth happened and I HAVE to know? I managed to remain calm and used an obvious excuse, like "Oh damn, I'd love to but you know how my boss is a bitch etc..."
What's wrong with me? Where is my personal antenna? I cannot reach signal from people I know. Maybe my decoder has broken down. Maybe my link is unavailable. Oh no, I dare not even say it... Maybe my subscription has expired!!!!!!!!
Communication has reached a different level. We use TV language, we incarnate TV-personas in our relationships, we talk about everything on the news. Future "clochards" will be those not watching TV. We create great distances which we are unable to cover without a remote control in our hands and an-always-functioning antenna in our heads. We are trained to become TV soldiers-in time.
Report everything - record everything.
Monkey say - Monkey do.
Destroy target.
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