Tuesday, 15 November 2011
Basmul lui 2011-2012
Post extrem de scurt: de ce basmul - obsesie in perioada asta, aflat in seriale, filme (production and post production) e Alba ca Zapada? Si ce ne spune oare...marul? Sf-istic, fringe-stiintifistic, simbolistic...
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Complicated
I have heard a legend. Apparently, some artists, actors, entertainers dare not to force themselves to be gadget wizards and have some old phones and dim-looking computers, that sometimes they don't even know to manipulate. Some of them even declared to hit, throw or dismantle their gadgets at times. OMG. As many times as you care to repeat this overrated acronym.Computernym.
But this is a luxury few can afford. Openly complaining about how complicated our world has become. Having some people listen to you while doing this... For the regular Joe, complaining about some annoying endless mandatory shits that come with every technical appliance or with any human endeavor is admitting he or she is modern stupid.
But this is a luxury few can afford. Openly complaining about how complicated our world has become. Having some people listen to you while doing this... For the regular Joe, complaining about some annoying endless mandatory shits that come with every technical appliance or with any human endeavor is admitting he or she is modern stupid.
Modern stupid is not the regular stupid, he can think, read, write, and has good if not sometimes brilliant ideas. But he has no portofolio, experience, know how, technical abilities, and generally a proneness to all kind of time-wasting- futile gestures that "are required" in order to this or that.
All this fuss about the newest gizmo and all the manuals about mastering photoshop and windows or the brilliant ted speeches, seminars and other yaky brands and their cocky-ness are not liked by the MS (modern stupid) - and the lack of proper caps lock is intended. So are the invented words - if technology has invaded our language in so many ways, who says we cannot make words ourselves. We, the humans. Not the geekiest, not the illiterate-st.
I am not against the progress in technology, nope. But they just forgot to wrap up the progress in some easier interfaces lately. And changing and progressing everyday can be just as boring as not changing at all.
Everyday there is an upgrade, a new look, a better format, a renewed image, and now they are becoming violent too. They pop, open by themselves, poke, alert, warn. Move to that, change to this or...you will be outdated, not work properly, be ostracized, may experience problems, blah, blah...shit.
So, I do not want to fill in tons of forms before I get to do this or that, especially considering that I was not so much decided I wanted to do that in the first place. I do not want to register, log in, promise, engage, pledge, sign contracts, agree and so on every effing time I am trying to just be casual. Just sample, see, try, stay close to the exit if I wanna change my mind. Even for doing volunteer work people have to prove themselves - fill in, sign, apply, confirm, travel, interview; how absurd. Too complicated.
And I will not upgrade to this or that, no matter how annoying the pop ups are, and how persistently they tell me that a "new more exiting" something just appeared. I know, I know...one day "they" will have upgraded me nilly-willy, or blocked mt MS cozy old format.
A simple AARGH should suffice.
Linistea dinaintea ...toamnei
A trecut mult din iulie pana acum, o cantitate de timp al fizicii traditionale care obliga. La ceva nou, o vorba acolo...
Venind si toamna...Asta fiindca toamna nu "a venit", instantaneu, nu s-a instalat deodata si gata...E un anotimp care in starea lui fireasca cere un continuum.
Toamna se insereaza cu incetul, pana te trezesti in mijlocul ei, dupa care iti atintesti privirile spre sarbatorile de iarna ca sa nu mai observi ploaia, cerul plumburiu sau mai stiu eu ce.
Cat sufletism anotimpic, de tip compunere scolara evoluata. Gata, nu mai fac.
Nu imi place toamna, never did. Cine a inventat anul scolar a distrus orice sansa a toamnei. Nu am fost atenta ce au distrus astia cu orarul de plata al impozitelor si taxelor, dar cred ca au doborat si ei un anotimp, sau macar o luna. Sa fie oare tot toamna victima?
Acest scurt text indeplinind oficiul de salut de toamna in limba materna, urmeaza o lamentare a inadaptatului (fericit totusi ca e inadaptat) in engleza:)
Venind si toamna...Asta fiindca toamna nu "a venit", instantaneu, nu s-a instalat deodata si gata...E un anotimp care in starea lui fireasca cere un continuum.
Toamna se insereaza cu incetul, pana te trezesti in mijlocul ei, dupa care iti atintesti privirile spre sarbatorile de iarna ca sa nu mai observi ploaia, cerul plumburiu sau mai stiu eu ce.
Cat sufletism anotimpic, de tip compunere scolara evoluata. Gata, nu mai fac.
Nu imi place toamna, never did. Cine a inventat anul scolar a distrus orice sansa a toamnei. Nu am fost atenta ce au distrus astia cu orarul de plata al impozitelor si taxelor, dar cred ca au doborat si ei un anotimp, sau macar o luna. Sa fie oare tot toamna victima?
Acest scurt text indeplinind oficiul de salut de toamna in limba materna, urmeaza o lamentare a inadaptatului (fericit totusi ca e inadaptat) in engleza:)
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Natiune second-hand
Deja sunt ani buni de cand o mare parte din populatia de la noi se imbraca, se incalta, isi pune perdele si se intinde in asternuturi de la second hand. Vise de lux, haine noi, materiale bune si produse de firma au esuat ca balenele pe mal in magazinele de telali cu haine mai urat sau mai frumos mirositoare care au fost ale altora candva.
E doar varful icebergului. Facem si afaceri second hand, gazduim fabrici poluante alungate din tarile lor, care aici ies ieftin cu costurile, polueaza in voie si au mana de lucru disperata si gata sa fie calcata in picioare oricand. Incercam idei care au mai fost incercate in alte parti, ignorand voit sau inconstient faptul ca au esuat deja in alta parte.
Am renuntat sa mai strangem din dinti pana ne permitem the real deal, noua, din cutia ei, originala. Nici nu mai prea avem idei originale, am uitat cum se face, de atata timp de cand ne chioram in realizarile si ideile altora. La noi era supermarketurilor si hipermarketurilor inca mijeste, oamenii se calca in picioare la reduceri, in timp ce in filme deja apun prin alte parti, si vedem oameni blazati si lipsiti de interes, deprimati de economia de consum, indiferenti la ultimul racnet in materie de oferte sau la noul design futurist al centrelor de cumparaturi.
Cei mai avuti se delecteaza fara vlaga si fara noima la ski, golf, calarie, spa, ore de sporturi fanteziste pentru ei si odraslele lor, in timp ce in lumea din care se inspira deja se inalta o sfanta plictiseala fata de aceste perdele de fum menite sa ascunda cat de falsa si lipsita de continutul adevaratelor sentimente umane a ajuns viata moderna.
Nici intoarcerea la origini nu e noua, e tot second-hand. Pentru Vest (mirajul fericit din vremerile parintilor) e si asta un been there, done that. Si dupa cum se descurca si societatile lor, done that degeaba...Importam idei vechi, ignorand incapatanat faptul ca in locul lor de origine au esuat deja. Atmosfera generala de pe la noi arata ca in alte parti. In alte parti acum vreo n-spe ani.
Plantam mecanic seminte second-hand pe un sol nefertilizat de revolutii sociale, valul new age, geek power, the naughties years of prosperity si alte epoci straine. Ergo nu se prind, in schimb strica si obosesc oamenii si solul. Afacerile utopice aduse aici suna fals, casele din metal, bca si termopan te fac sa te doara ochii, iar mitul casei batranesti in varf de deal fara utilitati se prabuseste in noroi la venirea toamnei.
Luam incontinuu ceea ce alti deja definesc drept trecut sau arunca. Cine isi face curat in dulapuri si da la goodwill hainele si pantofii de odinioara involuntar sau nu isi arunca odata cu ele si dezamagiri, nemultumiri sau esecuri de odinioara, mai mici sau mai mari. Amintirile unei iubiri inselate, visul neimplinit al slabirii cu multe kilograme care tinea pe raft mai stiu eu ce pereche de blugi, haine ridicole specifice modei anului nu stiu care...Minimalismul invita la golirea dulapurilor si caselor de junk, si aduce o aerisire si cumva un nou inceput pentru ca si mintea se goleste de o ioncarcatura a trecutului.
Si noi preluam toate aceste trecuturi aruncate la gunoi, cateodata nici macar pe filiera goodwiil, a filantropiei, ci chiar de la gunoi, unde conationali intreprinzatori nu se sfiesc sa bage mana adanc. Scot un ban din nimic, de ce sa se mai incurce cu demnitatea, nu? Ba chiar tresaltam de fericire ca ne putem cumpara la un pret potrivit cu portofelele noastre naparlite varianta la mana a doua a mai stiu eu carei haine de firma, sau pur si simplu un plover calduros, mai bun decat marfa noua si scumpa, dar de calitate est europeana, pe care o ruleaza magazine sfidator de rupte de marea realitate.
Ne scade bunul simt cu fiecare plasa de second hand junk, fara sa ne dam seama se instaureaza in noi convingerea ca nici nu meritam ceva mai bun, dar, hei, omul trebuie sa traiasca chiar si daca face parte dintr-o tara de sclavi, nu?
Cat despre dat mai departe...multi au secondhanzii lor personali, carora le transfera obiecte in caz de schimb, plictiseala sau "a crescut copilul, dar la al vostru ii vin", continuand lantul uman de second hand. Sigur, singura victorie ar fi fentarea magazinelor cu marfuri proaste si strigator la cer de scumpe, dar sa faci asta o viata intreaga, e o resemnare. In plus toti copii nostri au hand me down clothes, chiar daca nu au frati mai mari. Unii nici nu cunosc fastul, mirosul si mandria unei haine noi, numai al lor. Sunt fratii mai mici si mai saraci ai unor necunoscuti, si multi asa vor ramane si la maturitate.
Cine visa in adolescenta sa se faca mare si sa isi cumpere haine vechi? Nu prea cred. Cine visa sa fie cetateanul unei tari dezgolita de orice motiv de mandrie nationala, redusa la stadiul de consumator si gazda a unor afaceri ale caror produse majoritatea nu si-ar permite sa le cumpere. Dar care lasa in urma aer puturos, astm, tuse, obezitate, si o senzatie de nimicnicie. Da a fi in tara ta ca intr-un lagar de munca, unde nu iti permiti sa mai ai vise si sa vrei tu ceva. Ori iti sufleci manecile si faci ce ti se spune si ce ti se ofera, ori valea...
Chestia neplacuta e ca nu pentru prima data in istorie suntem asa. Mai stiti perioada in care ne-am frantuzit? Sau cat de urat le-a fost boierilor bucuresteni sa renunte la caftane pentru costumele europene? Caftane care la randul lor erau turcesti. Aha. Deci cine mama naibii suntem noi de fapt, lasand imitatia deoparte?Cat de inapoi in istorie trebuie sa mergem ca sa gasim o imagine lipsita de caracterul de copie? In mod bizar si poate exagerand un pic, in comunism erau momente in care nu se copia, pentru ca nu puteai iesi din tara sa te inspiri. Dar s-a copiat sovietic ani de zile, ce zic eu s-a copiat, s-a fortat programatic sa facem ca ei, sa avem aceleasi gusturi, culori, idei de viata. Am ramas cu un sentimentalism violent si ieftin, mai ales in patura de jos. Cu efuziuni de dragoste si ura la extrem, deplasate si cam aiurea, avand in vedere ca noi nu avem spiritul rus sa le care in spate.
De undeva de acolo ni se trage orizontul de familie-clan care intuneca zarea oricarui individ de pe la noi. Familii extinse care isi spala rufele impreuna si inca se poarta cum a decretat vreo strabunica, desi nu le mai e lor clar asta. Se intalnesc, se pupa, se barfesc si se cearta, se urasc cu profunzime, dar se apara fata de straini ca o haita in momente de criza. Dinamica relatiilor interumane la noi: daca nu stii detalii barfoase despre cat mai multi si familiile lor extinse, esti un nimeni. Si ne mai miram care-i treaba cu coruptia. Cu asa obiceiuri, cine le mai lasa la usa cand merge la servici sau cand are decizii de luat.
A, stiu cine. Cei adoptati de o noua familie. Nu, nu statul, ca in epoca apusa. Corporatiile multinationale, care isi recicleaza angajatii locali in sprit de teambuilding, ii spala pe creier cat se poate de organizat, le baga pe gat un nou limbaj, excursii cu colegii, bonusuri, beneficii, si stiu si sa dea cu batul in cei recalcitranti. Deoarece oricine trebuie sa traiasca si el cumva si astia au BANUL, sigur ca le merge. S-a reusit idiotica combinatie de rufe de familie si angajatul loial in acelasi individ.
Si in mod perfid, au preluat pe nesimtite in acelasi stil si idei non-comerciale, campanii pentru anumite cauze, pe care le robotizeaza si le "aduc acasa" tot la ei, pe principiul "tine-ti potentialul dusman aproape". Parintii societatii civile trebuie ca se rasucesc in mormant cand vad evenimente sportive sponsorizate de firme de alcool si tigari, sau fabrici poluante care planteaza cativa copacei schilozi si isi fac uriase avantaje de imagine din asta.
O, scuze, de fapt noi nu avem societate civila, am sarit etapa autentica a ei, si am preluat ideea de la altii, cu niste decoruri locale, o puzderie de asociatii, fundatii si organizatii, ramuri si ramurele ale unor suprafiliale straine care naiba stie cu ce se ocupa de fapt, dar daca ai o problema si te duci la ei sa te ajute, te paste o noua depresie. In schimb, multe au sedii faine, dar faine de tot, ruleaza fonduri de te doare capul, si se vantura ideea ca esti om facut daca impusti un job la ei. Ho-ho-ho!
Revenind la titlu, vrea cineva sa nu ne mai fie asa de prost? De ce nu preluam second hand si solutiile altora, alea de au dat roade? Sau un think tank ceva, unde sa ii incuiem pe marii ganditori ai politicii de la noi si sa ii lasam sa iasa cand au reusit sa vina cu o idee originala, pentru noi si de-a noastra, si s-au jurat ca o si pun in practica.
Probabil nu e loc de asa inca. Mai trebuie sa incercam second hand bautul acceptat la orice ora a zilei, ca in filme, ierburi recreationale, ceva legalizarea armelor, bodiguardizarea bogatanilor, crearea unui invatamant paralel privat in timp ca in asta de stat cine naiba va mai avea curaj sa isi dea copii, traitul in masa ca si chiriasi, dar nu la stat, ca odinioara, ci la ceva afaceristi scabrosi care vor fi mari proprietari etc etc
E doar varful icebergului. Facem si afaceri second hand, gazduim fabrici poluante alungate din tarile lor, care aici ies ieftin cu costurile, polueaza in voie si au mana de lucru disperata si gata sa fie calcata in picioare oricand. Incercam idei care au mai fost incercate in alte parti, ignorand voit sau inconstient faptul ca au esuat deja in alta parte.
Am renuntat sa mai strangem din dinti pana ne permitem the real deal, noua, din cutia ei, originala. Nici nu mai prea avem idei originale, am uitat cum se face, de atata timp de cand ne chioram in realizarile si ideile altora. La noi era supermarketurilor si hipermarketurilor inca mijeste, oamenii se calca in picioare la reduceri, in timp ce in filme deja apun prin alte parti, si vedem oameni blazati si lipsiti de interes, deprimati de economia de consum, indiferenti la ultimul racnet in materie de oferte sau la noul design futurist al centrelor de cumparaturi.
Cei mai avuti se delecteaza fara vlaga si fara noima la ski, golf, calarie, spa, ore de sporturi fanteziste pentru ei si odraslele lor, in timp ce in lumea din care se inspira deja se inalta o sfanta plictiseala fata de aceste perdele de fum menite sa ascunda cat de falsa si lipsita de continutul adevaratelor sentimente umane a ajuns viata moderna.
Nici intoarcerea la origini nu e noua, e tot second-hand. Pentru Vest (mirajul fericit din vremerile parintilor) e si asta un been there, done that. Si dupa cum se descurca si societatile lor, done that degeaba...Importam idei vechi, ignorand incapatanat faptul ca in locul lor de origine au esuat deja. Atmosfera generala de pe la noi arata ca in alte parti. In alte parti acum vreo n-spe ani.
Plantam mecanic seminte second-hand pe un sol nefertilizat de revolutii sociale, valul new age, geek power, the naughties years of prosperity si alte epoci straine. Ergo nu se prind, in schimb strica si obosesc oamenii si solul. Afacerile utopice aduse aici suna fals, casele din metal, bca si termopan te fac sa te doara ochii, iar mitul casei batranesti in varf de deal fara utilitati se prabuseste in noroi la venirea toamnei.
Luam incontinuu ceea ce alti deja definesc drept trecut sau arunca. Cine isi face curat in dulapuri si da la goodwill hainele si pantofii de odinioara involuntar sau nu isi arunca odata cu ele si dezamagiri, nemultumiri sau esecuri de odinioara, mai mici sau mai mari. Amintirile unei iubiri inselate, visul neimplinit al slabirii cu multe kilograme care tinea pe raft mai stiu eu ce pereche de blugi, haine ridicole specifice modei anului nu stiu care...Minimalismul invita la golirea dulapurilor si caselor de junk, si aduce o aerisire si cumva un nou inceput pentru ca si mintea se goleste de o ioncarcatura a trecutului.
Si noi preluam toate aceste trecuturi aruncate la gunoi, cateodata nici macar pe filiera goodwiil, a filantropiei, ci chiar de la gunoi, unde conationali intreprinzatori nu se sfiesc sa bage mana adanc. Scot un ban din nimic, de ce sa se mai incurce cu demnitatea, nu? Ba chiar tresaltam de fericire ca ne putem cumpara la un pret potrivit cu portofelele noastre naparlite varianta la mana a doua a mai stiu eu carei haine de firma, sau pur si simplu un plover calduros, mai bun decat marfa noua si scumpa, dar de calitate est europeana, pe care o ruleaza magazine sfidator de rupte de marea realitate.
Ne scade bunul simt cu fiecare plasa de second hand junk, fara sa ne dam seama se instaureaza in noi convingerea ca nici nu meritam ceva mai bun, dar, hei, omul trebuie sa traiasca chiar si daca face parte dintr-o tara de sclavi, nu?
Cat despre dat mai departe...multi au secondhanzii lor personali, carora le transfera obiecte in caz de schimb, plictiseala sau "a crescut copilul, dar la al vostru ii vin", continuand lantul uman de second hand. Sigur, singura victorie ar fi fentarea magazinelor cu marfuri proaste si strigator la cer de scumpe, dar sa faci asta o viata intreaga, e o resemnare. In plus toti copii nostri au hand me down clothes, chiar daca nu au frati mai mari. Unii nici nu cunosc fastul, mirosul si mandria unei haine noi, numai al lor. Sunt fratii mai mici si mai saraci ai unor necunoscuti, si multi asa vor ramane si la maturitate.
Cine visa in adolescenta sa se faca mare si sa isi cumpere haine vechi? Nu prea cred. Cine visa sa fie cetateanul unei tari dezgolita de orice motiv de mandrie nationala, redusa la stadiul de consumator si gazda a unor afaceri ale caror produse majoritatea nu si-ar permite sa le cumpere. Dar care lasa in urma aer puturos, astm, tuse, obezitate, si o senzatie de nimicnicie. Da a fi in tara ta ca intr-un lagar de munca, unde nu iti permiti sa mai ai vise si sa vrei tu ceva. Ori iti sufleci manecile si faci ce ti se spune si ce ti se ofera, ori valea...
Chestia neplacuta e ca nu pentru prima data in istorie suntem asa. Mai stiti perioada in care ne-am frantuzit? Sau cat de urat le-a fost boierilor bucuresteni sa renunte la caftane pentru costumele europene? Caftane care la randul lor erau turcesti. Aha. Deci cine mama naibii suntem noi de fapt, lasand imitatia deoparte?Cat de inapoi in istorie trebuie sa mergem ca sa gasim o imagine lipsita de caracterul de copie? In mod bizar si poate exagerand un pic, in comunism erau momente in care nu se copia, pentru ca nu puteai iesi din tara sa te inspiri. Dar s-a copiat sovietic ani de zile, ce zic eu s-a copiat, s-a fortat programatic sa facem ca ei, sa avem aceleasi gusturi, culori, idei de viata. Am ramas cu un sentimentalism violent si ieftin, mai ales in patura de jos. Cu efuziuni de dragoste si ura la extrem, deplasate si cam aiurea, avand in vedere ca noi nu avem spiritul rus sa le care in spate.
De undeva de acolo ni se trage orizontul de familie-clan care intuneca zarea oricarui individ de pe la noi. Familii extinse care isi spala rufele impreuna si inca se poarta cum a decretat vreo strabunica, desi nu le mai e lor clar asta. Se intalnesc, se pupa, se barfesc si se cearta, se urasc cu profunzime, dar se apara fata de straini ca o haita in momente de criza. Dinamica relatiilor interumane la noi: daca nu stii detalii barfoase despre cat mai multi si familiile lor extinse, esti un nimeni. Si ne mai miram care-i treaba cu coruptia. Cu asa obiceiuri, cine le mai lasa la usa cand merge la servici sau cand are decizii de luat.
A, stiu cine. Cei adoptati de o noua familie. Nu, nu statul, ca in epoca apusa. Corporatiile multinationale, care isi recicleaza angajatii locali in sprit de teambuilding, ii spala pe creier cat se poate de organizat, le baga pe gat un nou limbaj, excursii cu colegii, bonusuri, beneficii, si stiu si sa dea cu batul in cei recalcitranti. Deoarece oricine trebuie sa traiasca si el cumva si astia au BANUL, sigur ca le merge. S-a reusit idiotica combinatie de rufe de familie si angajatul loial in acelasi individ.
Si in mod perfid, au preluat pe nesimtite in acelasi stil si idei non-comerciale, campanii pentru anumite cauze, pe care le robotizeaza si le "aduc acasa" tot la ei, pe principiul "tine-ti potentialul dusman aproape". Parintii societatii civile trebuie ca se rasucesc in mormant cand vad evenimente sportive sponsorizate de firme de alcool si tigari, sau fabrici poluante care planteaza cativa copacei schilozi si isi fac uriase avantaje de imagine din asta.
O, scuze, de fapt noi nu avem societate civila, am sarit etapa autentica a ei, si am preluat ideea de la altii, cu niste decoruri locale, o puzderie de asociatii, fundatii si organizatii, ramuri si ramurele ale unor suprafiliale straine care naiba stie cu ce se ocupa de fapt, dar daca ai o problema si te duci la ei sa te ajute, te paste o noua depresie. In schimb, multe au sedii faine, dar faine de tot, ruleaza fonduri de te doare capul, si se vantura ideea ca esti om facut daca impusti un job la ei. Ho-ho-ho!
Revenind la titlu, vrea cineva sa nu ne mai fie asa de prost? De ce nu preluam second hand si solutiile altora, alea de au dat roade? Sau un think tank ceva, unde sa ii incuiem pe marii ganditori ai politicii de la noi si sa ii lasam sa iasa cand au reusit sa vina cu o idee originala, pentru noi si de-a noastra, si s-au jurat ca o si pun in practica.
Probabil nu e loc de asa inca. Mai trebuie sa incercam second hand bautul acceptat la orice ora a zilei, ca in filme, ierburi recreationale, ceva legalizarea armelor, bodiguardizarea bogatanilor, crearea unui invatamant paralel privat in timp ca in asta de stat cine naiba va mai avea curaj sa isi dea copii, traitul in masa ca si chiriasi, dar nu la stat, ca odinioara, ci la ceva afaceristi scabrosi care vor fi mari proprietari etc etc
Tuesday, 14 June 2011
Prea mult
...sau prea putin. Adicatalea simtirile omului contemporan s-au dereglat, si alterneaza ascetismul cu insatietatea. Extremele! Cu semnul exclamarii, ca sa nu treaca neobservate cumva. Extreme cu public!
Telefonul cu butoane ultimul racnet, pardon, cu touchpad care sa simuleze senzatia de butoane (haha, ca un fel de plastic cu aroma si senzatie de lemn), sau nimic, nada, fara telefon, televizor, cafea etc. Iesiri in lume inlantuite intr-o aproape-lunga-croaziera, caci daca rar vii pe acasa, nu prea mai "iesi", versus lipsa de chef. Daca perceptiile nu sunt bubuite fie intr-un sens, fie in altul, nu merge treaba. Si musai trebuie si prezentat, recunoscut, expus, publicizat. Ca sa ilustram...iaca blogul, in care se chinuie fiecare ca particula observata din cuantica sa transpire public diverse trairi.
Motivul a fost incoltit si comentat demultisor, mi-aduc aminte ca am citit ceva, nush pe unde. Cica ne e frica sa luam o pauza, sa stam singuri sau nesinguri si sa nu facem nimic. Sa nu planificam, activam, traim, sa nu emitem idei pe care le visam, desigur, cu un simbure de genialitate...
E ca un fel de oglinda magica in care te vezi acut. De evitat. Mai bine punem in sac multe, cat mai multe, si daca se amesteca de la sine ca un colaj nu e plagiat sau mediocritate; e un nou curent, street art, urban buzz, country dubstep sau mai stiu eu ce bazdaganie cu 7 picioare, 3 cozi si multe culori.
Palnia cea mai avantajoasa de turnat multe deodata pe un gatlej imaginar e internetul, de unde internetoholismul (nu stiu daca nu mai trebuia un "o" pe acolo?!). Si nu sunt suparata ca nu scoatem firul si nu dam turn off, e cam tarziu pentru asta.
Nu cred ca omoara creativitatea. Doar o face sa se gandeasca indelung pana sa se mai arate la vedere, poate prea tarziu. Ca si becurile economice, acuma becul ideatic se aprinde palid, se incarca greu si risca sa bubuie la un pic de umezeala, aruncand umbre sumbre de mercur toxic in caz ca se si sparge.
Cand citeam odinioara eram asa legat de cate o cartulie pana ma saturam de ea, dar rau de tot. Imi era draga, pana imi venea plictisul si o aruncam pe sub pat sau dupa rafturi. Prea mult. Pauza. Alta. O reluam cand o uitam.
Nu vad neaparat o legatura, doar ca recunosc senzatia de plictiso-enervare. Mai du-te-n...! Afli despre de toate, faci ce poti, iti fileaza papagali figurativi prin fata ochilor, dar daca stau sa ma gandesc au trecut ani de cand am mai vazut in carne si oase o fiinta umana care sa ma inspire. Incante. Amuze fara efort. Nici macar nu imi mai e jena cu cinismul din tolba: "fake, fake, fake, fake!". And phony.
Nu pun la socoteala oameni la fel de nostalgici dupa ceva, un alt tip de om, coplesiti de intrebarea mare si goala "Incotro ne indreptam?".
Si limba noastra cea "comoara in adancuri infundata" ar face bine sa mai dea nastere unor cuvinte noi, ca pentru ce se intampla in diverse domenii, e cam pasiva. Prea putin. Imprumutam din engleza, mama tuturor calculatoarelor, ca altfel suna fortat.
Telefonul cu butoane ultimul racnet, pardon, cu touchpad care sa simuleze senzatia de butoane (haha, ca un fel de plastic cu aroma si senzatie de lemn), sau nimic, nada, fara telefon, televizor, cafea etc. Iesiri in lume inlantuite intr-o aproape-lunga-croaziera, caci daca rar vii pe acasa, nu prea mai "iesi", versus lipsa de chef. Daca perceptiile nu sunt bubuite fie intr-un sens, fie in altul, nu merge treaba. Si musai trebuie si prezentat, recunoscut, expus, publicizat. Ca sa ilustram...iaca blogul, in care se chinuie fiecare ca particula observata din cuantica sa transpire public diverse trairi.
Motivul a fost incoltit si comentat demultisor, mi-aduc aminte ca am citit ceva, nush pe unde. Cica ne e frica sa luam o pauza, sa stam singuri sau nesinguri si sa nu facem nimic. Sa nu planificam, activam, traim, sa nu emitem idei pe care le visam, desigur, cu un simbure de genialitate...
E ca un fel de oglinda magica in care te vezi acut. De evitat. Mai bine punem in sac multe, cat mai multe, si daca se amesteca de la sine ca un colaj nu e plagiat sau mediocritate; e un nou curent, street art, urban buzz, country dubstep sau mai stiu eu ce bazdaganie cu 7 picioare, 3 cozi si multe culori.
Palnia cea mai avantajoasa de turnat multe deodata pe un gatlej imaginar e internetul, de unde internetoholismul (nu stiu daca nu mai trebuia un "o" pe acolo?!). Si nu sunt suparata ca nu scoatem firul si nu dam turn off, e cam tarziu pentru asta.
Nu cred ca omoara creativitatea. Doar o face sa se gandeasca indelung pana sa se mai arate la vedere, poate prea tarziu. Ca si becurile economice, acuma becul ideatic se aprinde palid, se incarca greu si risca sa bubuie la un pic de umezeala, aruncand umbre sumbre de mercur toxic in caz ca se si sparge.
Cand citeam odinioara eram asa legat de cate o cartulie pana ma saturam de ea, dar rau de tot. Imi era draga, pana imi venea plictisul si o aruncam pe sub pat sau dupa rafturi. Prea mult. Pauza. Alta. O reluam cand o uitam.
Nu vad neaparat o legatura, doar ca recunosc senzatia de plictiso-enervare. Mai du-te-n...! Afli despre de toate, faci ce poti, iti fileaza papagali figurativi prin fata ochilor, dar daca stau sa ma gandesc au trecut ani de cand am mai vazut in carne si oase o fiinta umana care sa ma inspire. Incante. Amuze fara efort. Nici macar nu imi mai e jena cu cinismul din tolba: "fake, fake, fake, fake!". And phony.
Nu pun la socoteala oameni la fel de nostalgici dupa ceva, un alt tip de om, coplesiti de intrebarea mare si goala "Incotro ne indreptam?".
Si limba noastra cea "comoara in adancuri infundata" ar face bine sa mai dea nastere unor cuvinte noi, ca pentru ce se intampla in diverse domenii, e cam pasiva. Prea putin. Imprumutam din engleza, mama tuturor calculatoarelor, ca altfel suna fortat.
Sunday, 29 May 2011
From Chinese scratch to constant whining
I am going for an expression that would embody the old Chinese habit of ruining the perfection of an art piece or of a human being by willingly scratching a tiny spot of the cup, smudging a painting or putting an ugly hat on the nice person, in order to prevent "the Gods from being envious on their beauty and ruin it for the humans". But I couldn't find the exact expression in a short search on the net, so I am going ahead and using what I suppose it should sound like.
Anyway, such a belief explains the tendency to brag about the nice things in our life, but only up to a limit. And instead to let it all out when it comes to nostalgia, depression, anger and so on, a thing that the modern culture kind of also encourages. So, between blabbing about the perfect days and complaining about the bad ones, I would say that the complaining prevails.
Which makes it harder and harder to express genuine appreciation for the good things we sometimes experience. Not meaningless, only-personally-precious moments like "I saw a ray of light, this made my day", but some good facts, that could be also appreciated by others and have the potential of brightening. They make us happy, but also bring a weird silence. Maybe we are afraid to jinx them. But it is rarely happening, hearing an objective positive story from people.
Instead, the whining is a means of relating, of communicating: the speaker is emptying his emotional trash on the others, the listeners have an inner sometimes even unconscious satisfaction out of comparing themselves with the whiner and finding a friend in the same need or in a far worse one that their own. So, I heard people whining about the sunny days, but also about the rainy ones, about all the seasons and all kinds of situations...It is also contagious, and often I hear my lips whining without my full approval to do so...Well, we go along with the times we live in, right?
In the same order of ideas, had a couple of nice, better days. Hope not to jinx it. The only problem, so nice that I couldn't find the dim button in the evenings...
And also, I've lost track a bit of a dear friend, maybe this person reads these and can send some news...? I am thinking of writing (uau!) a non-electronic letter and post it, but still hoping I will find an update message these days...All the hugs and hope everything is OK.
Anyway, such a belief explains the tendency to brag about the nice things in our life, but only up to a limit. And instead to let it all out when it comes to nostalgia, depression, anger and so on, a thing that the modern culture kind of also encourages. So, between blabbing about the perfect days and complaining about the bad ones, I would say that the complaining prevails.
Which makes it harder and harder to express genuine appreciation for the good things we sometimes experience. Not meaningless, only-personally-precious moments like "I saw a ray of light, this made my day", but some good facts, that could be also appreciated by others and have the potential of brightening. They make us happy, but also bring a weird silence. Maybe we are afraid to jinx them. But it is rarely happening, hearing an objective positive story from people.
Instead, the whining is a means of relating, of communicating: the speaker is emptying his emotional trash on the others, the listeners have an inner sometimes even unconscious satisfaction out of comparing themselves with the whiner and finding a friend in the same need or in a far worse one that their own. So, I heard people whining about the sunny days, but also about the rainy ones, about all the seasons and all kinds of situations...It is also contagious, and often I hear my lips whining without my full approval to do so...Well, we go along with the times we live in, right?
In the same order of ideas, had a couple of nice, better days. Hope not to jinx it. The only problem, so nice that I couldn't find the dim button in the evenings...
And also, I've lost track a bit of a dear friend, maybe this person reads these and can send some news...? I am thinking of writing (uau!) a non-electronic letter and post it, but still hoping I will find an update message these days...All the hugs and hope everything is OK.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
What to say...
Lately, I see a habit: one post in Romanian, one in English. So I guess it's the turn of the English post, therefore "What to say?"
No news about the plants of this year, haven't seen them in a while, no garden visits lately.
I miss the old atmosphere, the one I've known as a child, the temperature, the perfume of the flowers in the trees of the city, the noises, the uncrowded streets, the night light flickering through the branches. Of course, it was a different city I am talking about, but even if I visit the same place this entire picture is not there, I have tried and I know. This way, being at a distance, I can bask in the lie that all the nice urban feelings from the past are still out there.
I found myself wondering yesterday how are younger people perceiving the streets and cities they walk on and live in. All that matters is the age, and the busy robotic cities of today look different in the eyes of younger people, or nobody cares, nobody has their sensitivity open to the beauty of daily places?
The unaesthetic streets of today that mean nothing to me are full of meaning for youngsters, or they just don't notice such outdated details, and they are all about the mp3-s sounding in their ears, their phones, their overcrowded social relations, electronic and face to face?
I miss the poetical misfits, who didn't look for adrenaline rush in bad habits, and preferred to gather around some coffee or wine, smoke and talk about their random questions on life. Now the gatherings are planned and not a moment must be left unorganized, the coffee is bad for the organism, the cigarettes are unhealthy...
And the conversations revolve around politics, and jobs, and eco this and bio that, or just grownup talk, children, education, banks, all in a serious, head-achy way.
Oh, and the former good for nothing misfits, to see some of them so different and solemn, almost not remembering the way they used to look at life, with high hopes, with mysterious hopes that something great is going to come, and that if not, they would just keep protesting to all that is bad in their parents generations...
There was a witty reply in a movie "I was so worried not to become my mom, that I didn't notice I am turning into my dad". the sad thing is that we are becoming a bit of both, and not in the good way. We are becoming the old, the rival of the next generation, and we haven't even got the chance to fully live our childhood.
Playing house just got upgraded to playing family, playing job, and we have acted so intensely that the leading personality is now the play one.
So, where are the may evenings with the intense linden flowers smell, almost materializing on the streets like a dense fog? All I missed then was a soul mate to share the magic with, and I never even remotely imagined that today, having who to share all that with, I will discover that it 's all just in my memories now...
No news about the plants of this year, haven't seen them in a while, no garden visits lately.
I miss the old atmosphere, the one I've known as a child, the temperature, the perfume of the flowers in the trees of the city, the noises, the uncrowded streets, the night light flickering through the branches. Of course, it was a different city I am talking about, but even if I visit the same place this entire picture is not there, I have tried and I know. This way, being at a distance, I can bask in the lie that all the nice urban feelings from the past are still out there.
I found myself wondering yesterday how are younger people perceiving the streets and cities they walk on and live in. All that matters is the age, and the busy robotic cities of today look different in the eyes of younger people, or nobody cares, nobody has their sensitivity open to the beauty of daily places?
The unaesthetic streets of today that mean nothing to me are full of meaning for youngsters, or they just don't notice such outdated details, and they are all about the mp3-s sounding in their ears, their phones, their overcrowded social relations, electronic and face to face?
I miss the poetical misfits, who didn't look for adrenaline rush in bad habits, and preferred to gather around some coffee or wine, smoke and talk about their random questions on life. Now the gatherings are planned and not a moment must be left unorganized, the coffee is bad for the organism, the cigarettes are unhealthy...
And the conversations revolve around politics, and jobs, and eco this and bio that, or just grownup talk, children, education, banks, all in a serious, head-achy way.
Oh, and the former good for nothing misfits, to see some of them so different and solemn, almost not remembering the way they used to look at life, with high hopes, with mysterious hopes that something great is going to come, and that if not, they would just keep protesting to all that is bad in their parents generations...
There was a witty reply in a movie "I was so worried not to become my mom, that I didn't notice I am turning into my dad". the sad thing is that we are becoming a bit of both, and not in the good way. We are becoming the old, the rival of the next generation, and we haven't even got the chance to fully live our childhood.
Playing house just got upgraded to playing family, playing job, and we have acted so intensely that the leading personality is now the play one.
So, where are the may evenings with the intense linden flowers smell, almost materializing on the streets like a dense fog? All I missed then was a soul mate to share the magic with, and I never even remotely imagined that today, having who to share all that with, I will discover that it 's all just in my memories now...
Tuesday, 3 May 2011
Saracenii
"Unde nu e nãdejde de dobândã lipseşte şi îndemnul de lucru. Cine lucreazã vrea sã câştige, iarã sãrãcenii şi-au fost scos gândul de câştig; pentru aceea nici nu se aflau îndemnaţi sã lucreze. Cât puteau, petreceau vremea întinşi la rãcoare; nu puteau, îşi mâncau zilele lucrând prin alte sate învecinate. Când venea apoi iarna... vai şi amar!"
Iar cine e deprins cu rãul, la mai bine nici nu gândeşte; sãrãcenilor le pãrea cã, decât aşa, mai bine nici nu poate fi. Peştele-n apã, pasãrea-n aer, cârtiţa în pãmânt şi sãrãcenenii în sãrãcie!"
Cam asa ca pe saraceni ii vad pe multi oameni de prin tara asta. Tare imi place povestea lui Slavici ca se termina cu bine. Desigur, cand se apuca omul din poveste de impletit lese si castigat ceva banuti, nu apareau noi legi care sa ii ia si izmenele de pe el. Si nici nu ii batea la poarta banca sa il amagesca cu imprumuturi si viitorul utopic in care curge lapte si miere mai inainte de a se apuca incet, incet, sa faca ba un gard, ba un acoperis cu ce avea si el la indemana. S-au schimbat multe in peisaj si se prea poate ca in ziua de azi sa nu mai mearga nici solutia din poveste, care duce la finalul fericit. Deh...
Dar e un adevar mare ca fara speranta de un castig rezonabil dintr-o munca cat de cat placuta, omul "nedresat" nu prea are chef de nimic. Sta prin birt, prin curte, sau pe unde o mai sta, numa bine sa il vada cate un ministru sau reporter in cautare de subiecte de peroratie. E tare la moda sa arati cu degetul, acuzator: iata unde sta problema! Daca astia ar munci, daca astia nu ar manca atata sau ar face curat/sport/cantari populare, eheeei, pai atunci gata, toate ar fi bune. Imediat s-ar revarsa bogatia in tarisoara noastra, ba am primi si ceva calde strangeri de maini de la ue...
Postarea asta fara prea mare entuziasm a fost provocata de vorba "frumoasa tara, pacat ca e locuita". Dar de ce, bre? Las sa fie. Problema e mai adanca si nu numai cu oamenii. Nu vine de ieri de alaltaieri. Aici si pamantul e suparat, ataca cu spini si tufe incalcite, cu gongi, gandaci, namol si surpari...Un pic daca il lasi, se face parloaga si isi pune si niste urzici in cap, sa nu iti mai arda sa il deranjezi.
Nu e de mirare. Nici pamantul si nici omul nu mai stiu ce e cu ei. Multi au plecat de "acasa", i-a dus viata in locuri noi, unde nu mai au aceeasi legatura cu peisajul vizual si sonor, cu soarele, cu vegetatia. Si de la un sat la altul si simti schimbarea, daramite dintr-un capat de tara in altul. Cine ajunge la mai bine, se uita crucis ca ce usor e dincoace si ce nu apreciaza localnicii norocul lor, cine ajunge la mai rau ofteaza, se mai ofileste o petala doua, si se simte un pic strain...mereu. Noii veniti adesea nu inteleg, nu "aud" natura si nu o pot stapani, iar locurile se lasa rar imblanzite.
Nu se mai multumeste in gand copacului cand iti da fructele, pamantului cand iti creste plantele. Oamenii se plang monoton, si in anii rai si in cei buni. De ce ar fi altfel? Nu in putine randuri gasesti ciobani care nu sufera branza, agricultori ad-hoc deloc incantati ca trebuie sa cultive ceva, crescatori de animale care le injura sau le sacrifica fara pic de regrete, asa cum mai demult faceau numai unii pe la sat, "aia, sucitii".
Iar orasenii care mai iau pe ici pe colo locul taranilor...multe vor, putine le ies.(subscriu)Pai agricultura cu maini fine si cu bani putini, asta e un fel de utopie. Mai aveau si odinioara "domni", cum li se zicea generic, pamanturi, dar ei erau cu ideile si cu banul, iar forta de munca era tot palmasa.
Altfel, omul cu rabdarea si Dumnezeu cu mila. Daca nu s-ar gasi si de cumparat, sa traim din ce cultivam asa, ca o strutocamila oraseano-sateasca, ar fi vai si amar.
Noroc (vorba vine) ca se schimba vremurile si ca dispar babutzele, nu mai are cine sa se ia cu mainile de cap cand bajbaim noi sa cultivam de toate pe soluri unde cei de odinioara stiau ca nu merge decat aia si ailalta. De-acu' facem ce ne taie capul si ne tine spinarea, pana obosim si ne asezam langa o tufa de urzici...
Nici babele astea nu erau mafalde, e drept, ca treaba cu omul rupt de pamant ...se munceste la ea de cel putin 45 de ani. In mod industrializat s-a impus cultivarea nu dupa ce se potriveste, ci dupa ce trebuie sa se bage in plan. Plus ca rodul muncii il luau unii si il bagau in sac, era norma zdravana care trebuia data la "stat". Vorba vine...stat. Cine aduna, parte isi facea, si erau multi pe linie ierarhica la treaba asta cu adunatul...pana la depozit mai ramanea uneori doar hartia. De pe atunci "saracenii si-au scos gandul de la castig". Asta ca sa nu ma duc mai in urma in istorie, ca m-am plictisit...
Pana la urma si pamantul si oamenii mai au ceva in comun: supararea. Lehamitea, frustrarea, lipsa de chef...si alte frumoase atribute pe care unii le plimba la carciuma, altii le vindeca in sclavagia in tari straine, altii le baga sub pres si zambesc fals.
Iar cine e deprins cu rãul, la mai bine nici nu gândeşte; sãrãcenilor le pãrea cã, decât aşa, mai bine nici nu poate fi. Peştele-n apã, pasãrea-n aer, cârtiţa în pãmânt şi sãrãcenenii în sãrãcie!"
Cam asa ca pe saraceni ii vad pe multi oameni de prin tara asta. Tare imi place povestea lui Slavici ca se termina cu bine. Desigur, cand se apuca omul din poveste de impletit lese si castigat ceva banuti, nu apareau noi legi care sa ii ia si izmenele de pe el. Si nici nu ii batea la poarta banca sa il amagesca cu imprumuturi si viitorul utopic in care curge lapte si miere mai inainte de a se apuca incet, incet, sa faca ba un gard, ba un acoperis cu ce avea si el la indemana. S-au schimbat multe in peisaj si se prea poate ca in ziua de azi sa nu mai mearga nici solutia din poveste, care duce la finalul fericit. Deh...
Dar e un adevar mare ca fara speranta de un castig rezonabil dintr-o munca cat de cat placuta, omul "nedresat" nu prea are chef de nimic. Sta prin birt, prin curte, sau pe unde o mai sta, numa bine sa il vada cate un ministru sau reporter in cautare de subiecte de peroratie. E tare la moda sa arati cu degetul, acuzator: iata unde sta problema! Daca astia ar munci, daca astia nu ar manca atata sau ar face curat/sport/cantari populare, eheeei, pai atunci gata, toate ar fi bune. Imediat s-ar revarsa bogatia in tarisoara noastra, ba am primi si ceva calde strangeri de maini de la ue...
Postarea asta fara prea mare entuziasm a fost provocata de vorba "frumoasa tara, pacat ca e locuita". Dar de ce, bre? Las sa fie. Problema e mai adanca si nu numai cu oamenii. Nu vine de ieri de alaltaieri. Aici si pamantul e suparat, ataca cu spini si tufe incalcite, cu gongi, gandaci, namol si surpari...Un pic daca il lasi, se face parloaga si isi pune si niste urzici in cap, sa nu iti mai arda sa il deranjezi.
Nu e de mirare. Nici pamantul si nici omul nu mai stiu ce e cu ei. Multi au plecat de "acasa", i-a dus viata in locuri noi, unde nu mai au aceeasi legatura cu peisajul vizual si sonor, cu soarele, cu vegetatia. Si de la un sat la altul si simti schimbarea, daramite dintr-un capat de tara in altul. Cine ajunge la mai bine, se uita crucis ca ce usor e dincoace si ce nu apreciaza localnicii norocul lor, cine ajunge la mai rau ofteaza, se mai ofileste o petala doua, si se simte un pic strain...mereu. Noii veniti adesea nu inteleg, nu "aud" natura si nu o pot stapani, iar locurile se lasa rar imblanzite.
Nu se mai multumeste in gand copacului cand iti da fructele, pamantului cand iti creste plantele. Oamenii se plang monoton, si in anii rai si in cei buni. De ce ar fi altfel? Nu in putine randuri gasesti ciobani care nu sufera branza, agricultori ad-hoc deloc incantati ca trebuie sa cultive ceva, crescatori de animale care le injura sau le sacrifica fara pic de regrete, asa cum mai demult faceau numai unii pe la sat, "aia, sucitii".
Iar orasenii care mai iau pe ici pe colo locul taranilor...multe vor, putine le ies.(subscriu)Pai agricultura cu maini fine si cu bani putini, asta e un fel de utopie. Mai aveau si odinioara "domni", cum li se zicea generic, pamanturi, dar ei erau cu ideile si cu banul, iar forta de munca era tot palmasa.
Altfel, omul cu rabdarea si Dumnezeu cu mila. Daca nu s-ar gasi si de cumparat, sa traim din ce cultivam asa, ca o strutocamila oraseano-sateasca, ar fi vai si amar.
Noroc (vorba vine) ca se schimba vremurile si ca dispar babutzele, nu mai are cine sa se ia cu mainile de cap cand bajbaim noi sa cultivam de toate pe soluri unde cei de odinioara stiau ca nu merge decat aia si ailalta. De-acu' facem ce ne taie capul si ne tine spinarea, pana obosim si ne asezam langa o tufa de urzici...
Nici babele astea nu erau mafalde, e drept, ca treaba cu omul rupt de pamant ...se munceste la ea de cel putin 45 de ani. In mod industrializat s-a impus cultivarea nu dupa ce se potriveste, ci dupa ce trebuie sa se bage in plan. Plus ca rodul muncii il luau unii si il bagau in sac, era norma zdravana care trebuia data la "stat". Vorba vine...stat. Cine aduna, parte isi facea, si erau multi pe linie ierarhica la treaba asta cu adunatul...pana la depozit mai ramanea uneori doar hartia. De pe atunci "saracenii si-au scos gandul de la castig". Asta ca sa nu ma duc mai in urma in istorie, ca m-am plictisit...
Pana la urma si pamantul si oamenii mai au ceva in comun: supararea. Lehamitea, frustrarea, lipsa de chef...si alte frumoase atribute pe care unii le plimba la carciuma, altii le vindeca in sclavagia in tari straine, altii le baga sub pres si zambesc fals.
Friday, 29 April 2011
Danny Kaye and Cosmo Kramer
At a glance: first, the way they both look.
Second, if we look at the wikibio of Kaye, we notice he:
-ran away to Florida as a young boy (Kramer allegedly ran away from home at age 17 and stowed away aboard a steamer bound for Sweden)
-had a strong interest in cooking, installing contraptions in his kitchen and making his own sausages
-was passionate about medicine (could have tried to be a doctor if his parents afforded it) and used to watch surgery on several occasions
-loved baseball(not much of a connection, as a lot of people love it)
-had a character he interpreted only at home, Kaplan, the owner of a rubber company (like the rich Van Nostrand and other Kramer alter egos)
-"Superman creators, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, also fashioned a short lived superhero title, Funnyman, taking inspiration from Kaye's public persona" - this would point to Jerry's obsession with Superman and various similarities with that
show
- their overall body language, excluding the effeminate gestures of DK
Second, if we look at the wikibio of Kaye, we notice he:
-ran away to Florida as a young boy (Kramer allegedly ran away from home at age 17 and stowed away aboard a steamer bound for Sweden)
-had a strong interest in cooking, installing contraptions in his kitchen and making his own sausages
-was passionate about medicine (could have tried to be a doctor if his parents afforded it) and used to watch surgery on several occasions
-loved baseball(not much of a connection, as a lot of people love it)
-had a character he interpreted only at home, Kaplan, the owner of a rubber company (like the rich Van Nostrand and other Kramer alter egos)
-"Superman creators, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, also fashioned a short lived superhero title, Funnyman, taking inspiration from Kaye's public persona" - this would point to Jerry's obsession with Superman and various similarities with that
show
- their overall body language, excluding the effeminate gestures of DK
Thursday, 14 April 2011
Joi nici macar nu e vineri
Vineri e o zi de zi pentru ca incepe weekendul. Joi nici macar asta nu e. Atunci de ce imi vine sa injur si sa sparg ceva joi?
Tocmai joi sa ma lase asa deodata tot cheful. Incep sa ma gandesc, ca acusi vine Pastele, daca macar pentru o saptamana, putem matura asa frumos, toate chestiile gen planuri, dorinte si preferinte si pune la cos...apoi, trosc, capacul.Post la figurat. Dao - sa nu iti doresti nimic. Ehe, de cand am incercat eu sa aplic asta, dar mereu ma trezeam ca pandesc cu coada ochiului "Are efect? Acu primesc bonusul- sa se intample ceva fain?"
Blocaj, sau plictiseala de a mai fi om mare. Si nu, daca fac curat nu vreau sa aglomerez locul gol cu sfaturi si minciunelele altora, care nu au facut curat in viata lor. Ba mai zic ca o duc si bine, cu toate tinichelele stralucitoare ca decor...Serenity now. Daca nu ma bucur repede de ceva, dau in rautate...malitiozitate.
Joi, desigur, ca vineri pe la pranz e posibil sa iasa soarele. Si cat de greu e sa stai atunci bosumflat pe viata? Plus Fringe. Intotdeauna imi schimba starea.
Am uitat de postare, vreo jumatate de ora m-am uitat pe net. Efectele netului...mai mult te uiti la ce scriu altii decat sa scrii tu. Ca sa nu mai zic de facut ceva.Hmm.
Ok, e joi, e frig si ploaie. Numai bun ori sa razi ca hiena si sa vezi "Bored to death" etc, ori sa te lamentezi. Ca e plictiseala, ca ploua. Ca e joi, nici macar vineri.
Cascat.
Tocmai joi sa ma lase asa deodata tot cheful. Incep sa ma gandesc, ca acusi vine Pastele, daca macar pentru o saptamana, putem matura asa frumos, toate chestiile gen planuri, dorinte si preferinte si pune la cos...apoi, trosc, capacul.Post la figurat. Dao - sa nu iti doresti nimic. Ehe, de cand am incercat eu sa aplic asta, dar mereu ma trezeam ca pandesc cu coada ochiului "Are efect? Acu primesc bonusul- sa se intample ceva fain?"
Blocaj, sau plictiseala de a mai fi om mare. Si nu, daca fac curat nu vreau sa aglomerez locul gol cu sfaturi si minciunelele altora, care nu au facut curat in viata lor. Ba mai zic ca o duc si bine, cu toate tinichelele stralucitoare ca decor...Serenity now. Daca nu ma bucur repede de ceva, dau in rautate...malitiozitate.
Joi, desigur, ca vineri pe la pranz e posibil sa iasa soarele. Si cat de greu e sa stai atunci bosumflat pe viata? Plus Fringe. Intotdeauna imi schimba starea.
Am uitat de postare, vreo jumatate de ora m-am uitat pe net. Efectele netului...mai mult te uiti la ce scriu altii decat sa scrii tu. Ca sa nu mai zic de facut ceva.Hmm.
Ok, e joi, e frig si ploaie. Numai bun ori sa razi ca hiena si sa vezi "Bored to death" etc, ori sa te lamentezi. Ca e plictiseala, ca ploua. Ca e joi, nici macar vineri.
Cascat.
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
MLM and Internet
Remember those so-much-hated encounters with MLM?
And, yea, I started with a rhetorical question, a method used at their meetings. If your ears weren't already on shutdown after the first pompous obnoxious (and so on) phrase they declaimed, you could hear their basic principle: friends are an asset, and the better you "milk" them of money and/or of other contacts in order to sell the products and make yourself a fortune, the best.
Now, mind that, either you were told or you noticed by yourself (as a MLM shit-head, in an absurd hypothesis) that not all friends were valuable, only those with popularity or money, or just contacts that could be dragged into the meetings.
Now, much hated ideas somehow work their way into popular mentality in an insidious way, and I think MLM friend-usage is to be found on the net in those situations were people know each other.
Anonymity brings a lot of swearing, but also sincerity. No use to "earn points" by liking an unlikable item, if you are anonymous.
But if we know each other, what better way to have an unspoken you say well of mine-I say well of yours bargain than liking and praising here and there?
And now even more and more sites make registering necessary just in order to comment, so bye-bye relative anonymity. Plus it takes longer to write down a reaction that just sprung to mind, so bye-bye spontaneity. I used to like the nonsense of anonymous comments, even the injurious ones. If I didn't want to read them, I would skip them, but it gave a freedom feeling to see them all there. Now, it's a "register and login " world...bleah.
Of course, next on the list are the socialization sites, a mix-up of face to face social conventions and Internet, with a strong MLM feeling...I'll just leave it at that.
The blogs are so and so, as long as the comments have in theory the nickname signature. But usually people use clues to let the blogger know who said what, they want the credit for their comments as they are rarely derogative.
Blogs are like small clubs, if you are a complete stranger, what are the chances to just end up in one? Usually you use directions to find them, so the posters-readers are a small group who can of course bring other contacts, but who know each other...relatively.
Some of the comments (especially when we are talking pictures) are even mimicking the street random meetings with true or not-so-true friends, in which there was a lot of kissing in the air, lots of interjections, of false/not false admiration, and plenty of never realized plans and invitations: "Oh, you look beautiful! Really amazing! What a nice dress/ring/costume..We must see each other again! Come by my house sometimes!...Honey, sooo glad seeing you! O-ha-ha-ha"
So on, so forth. I got bored and my being pissed off (of course something triggered this) is wearing off.
So, I might self-comment in a derogatory manner...
And, yea, I started with a rhetorical question, a method used at their meetings. If your ears weren't already on shutdown after the first pompous obnoxious (and so on) phrase they declaimed, you could hear their basic principle: friends are an asset, and the better you "milk" them of money and/or of other contacts in order to sell the products and make yourself a fortune, the best.
Now, mind that, either you were told or you noticed by yourself (as a MLM shit-head, in an absurd hypothesis) that not all friends were valuable, only those with popularity or money, or just contacts that could be dragged into the meetings.
Now, much hated ideas somehow work their way into popular mentality in an insidious way, and I think MLM friend-usage is to be found on the net in those situations were people know each other.
Anonymity brings a lot of swearing, but also sincerity. No use to "earn points" by liking an unlikable item, if you are anonymous.
But if we know each other, what better way to have an unspoken you say well of mine-I say well of yours bargain than liking and praising here and there?
And now even more and more sites make registering necessary just in order to comment, so bye-bye relative anonymity. Plus it takes longer to write down a reaction that just sprung to mind, so bye-bye spontaneity. I used to like the nonsense of anonymous comments, even the injurious ones. If I didn't want to read them, I would skip them, but it gave a freedom feeling to see them all there. Now, it's a "register and login " world...bleah.
Of course, next on the list are the socialization sites, a mix-up of face to face social conventions and Internet, with a strong MLM feeling...I'll just leave it at that.
The blogs are so and so, as long as the comments have in theory the nickname signature. But usually people use clues to let the blogger know who said what, they want the credit for their comments as they are rarely derogative.
Blogs are like small clubs, if you are a complete stranger, what are the chances to just end up in one? Usually you use directions to find them, so the posters-readers are a small group who can of course bring other contacts, but who know each other...relatively.
Some of the comments (especially when we are talking pictures) are even mimicking the street random meetings with true or not-so-true friends, in which there was a lot of kissing in the air, lots of interjections, of false/not false admiration, and plenty of never realized plans and invitations: "Oh, you look beautiful! Really amazing! What a nice dress/ring/costume..We must see each other again! Come by my house sometimes!...Honey, sooo glad seeing you! O-ha-ha-ha"
So on, so forth. I got bored and my being pissed off (of course something triggered this) is wearing off.
So, I might self-comment in a derogatory manner...
Sunday, 10 April 2011
Working the land
This activity is private, yet a day ago I've been so suddenly and heavily working that it has earned a right to be talked about.
A field of boulders was waiting for us Saturday, completely insensitive to our Utopian plans of planting some seeds quick and effortless. We grabbed by chance a owner of some agricultural device who, making our wallet a bit less heavier, broke the boulders into smaller pieces. A few minutes of happy unrealistic plans again! Underneath these smaller earth blocks, the land was still hard and uninviting for any seed, I dare say even for alien plants, if there were any ready to attack.
Different opinions about what to do clashed a bit, and one participant disappeared into the house, only to appear later, more submissive, and rejoin the work.
So, I gathered my comfy knowledge from a French magazine for kids, in which there were shown a few easy steps for getting yourself "un jardin potager", and we re-grouped.
A few hours later we had ourselves some squares and quadrilaterals, a glorious number of 3, with the same clay soil, a bit fluffier. Not a good soil for vegetable-related activities, but since there is no other... Of course, it would have been way more pleasant to just have ideas, and have them be transformed into reality by other people, while sipping juice from my shoe:)
But having no money to pay for the work of others, we just kept pecking the land, sometimes sighing, sometimes swearing,(in our minds) other times just losing all thoughts in a meditative trance. It felt good overall. And very thirsty. After some time working, a bottle of water seemed the only thing staying between me and fainting. Or screaming in anger. Or whatever.
In the evening, after some food, and some other work around the house, I felt better, bright eyes, red cheeks, having worked a bit. (Looking back, it seemed I could boast a little and say we worked "a bit").
The land, still there, still not very friendly. Even though I do not accept the pre - determination coming from kindred, a relationship with a land that has not been in my family for a while is still unsettling. It is a new land, it talks in strange ways and does not want to submit.
The taming process is unpredictable, and again, private.
A field of boulders was waiting for us Saturday, completely insensitive to our Utopian plans of planting some seeds quick and effortless. We grabbed by chance a owner of some agricultural device who, making our wallet a bit less heavier, broke the boulders into smaller pieces. A few minutes of happy unrealistic plans again! Underneath these smaller earth blocks, the land was still hard and uninviting for any seed, I dare say even for alien plants, if there were any ready to attack.
Different opinions about what to do clashed a bit, and one participant disappeared into the house, only to appear later, more submissive, and rejoin the work.
So, I gathered my comfy knowledge from a French magazine for kids, in which there were shown a few easy steps for getting yourself "un jardin potager", and we re-grouped.
A few hours later we had ourselves some squares and quadrilaterals, a glorious number of 3, with the same clay soil, a bit fluffier. Not a good soil for vegetable-related activities, but since there is no other... Of course, it would have been way more pleasant to just have ideas, and have them be transformed into reality by other people, while sipping juice from my shoe:)
But having no money to pay for the work of others, we just kept pecking the land, sometimes sighing, sometimes swearing,(in our minds) other times just losing all thoughts in a meditative trance. It felt good overall. And very thirsty. After some time working, a bottle of water seemed the only thing staying between me and fainting. Or screaming in anger. Or whatever.
In the evening, after some food, and some other work around the house, I felt better, bright eyes, red cheeks, having worked a bit. (Looking back, it seemed I could boast a little and say we worked "a bit").
The land, still there, still not very friendly. Even though I do not accept the pre - determination coming from kindred, a relationship with a land that has not been in my family for a while is still unsettling. It is a new land, it talks in strange ways and does not want to submit.
The taming process is unpredictable, and again, private.
Wednesday, 6 April 2011
Failing at failing
If someone doesn't even do failing right, is he or she "failing at failing"?
I just googled the term combination and got out a link, but it's about failure in business, so it does not help. I am talking about personal stuff.
I guess artistic failing it's impossible if one realizes what is just going on and somehow freezes the loop of failing by self analysis ...for example.
Just a thought.
I just googled the term combination and got out a link, but it's about failure in business, so it does not help. I am talking about personal stuff.
I guess artistic failing it's impossible if one realizes what is just going on and somehow freezes the loop of failing by self analysis ...for example.
Just a thought.
Saturday, 2 April 2011
Local: telemea uscata...
...de oi Huedin, de la Napolact. Adica un fel de rubrica demodata "un produs pe saptamana". Daca tot mananc constant cate o chestie de ceva vreme, sa ii acord ceva credit, pana nu dispare de pe piata sau isi pierde calitatea, atat cata are.
Am mancat azi ceva telemea sarata(uscata/de iarna), de la un chiosc de lemn (daca am inteles eu bine) din Bucuresti, home made, dar am constatat cu oarece surpriza ca nu imi mai place, m-am obisnuit cu mirosul neutru si gustul bun, fara a fi picant, prea-de-oaie sau cu ceva particular, al Cedrei de oi Huedin. Ma tot holbam nemultumita la bucata, pitoreasca, ce e drept, dar care ma facea sa ma incrunt, din farfurie.
Acu, daca nu ma inseala memoria gustativa, branza asta taraneasca e pe undeva gresita, mancam si mai demult telemea, demult de tot in copilarie, de la unchii indepartati din Sibiu, si nu simteam ca parca mananc si oaia cu tot cu lana, dupa ploaie. Nu era gresita nici asta chiar asa rau sa nu o poti manca (am mirosit si mestecat jumatate de ora si produse intr-atat de rele, cu alte ocazii), dar the aftertaste cel putin ma face sa ma gandesc la oi nu prea spalate si la plovere de lana...
Deci voi reveni modest la telemeaua Huedin-easca, care nu imi pune la incercare mirosul sau rezistenta la sare cu aroma de oaie. O data am nimerit si dinasta foarte sfaramicioasa si slaba, dar am incercat, mai precaut, ce e drept, sa mai cumpar inca o data, si era normala, cu destula grasime. O mananc molcom si fara pretentii pe paine cu unt, langa cartofi prajiti, langa ou ochi sau fiert, pe macaroane, cu rosii si paine, si sper ca nu se va scumpi in mod demoralizant...
Cat despre producatori, am gasit pe net ca au undeva la 386 de angajati, ca is pe la Cluj, au avut ceva acuzatii ca importa lapte mai ieftin si il vand ca lapte clujean, dar le-au dezmintit...Daca mergem pe fir, vedem ca in dezmintire a fost citat Peter Szautner, managerul general al Friesland Campina Romania, deci Napolact asta e doar cu numele ro, e un brand preluat, fuzionat si innebunit (http://www.revista-piata.ro/Peter_Szautner__director_executiv_al_FrieslandCampina_Romania-id4993.html). Nu stiu sa caut mai ordonat, dar se vede pe acolo un amestec de Campina, Parmalat, Danone, Milli...Inteleg ca toate au fost la un moment dat sau inca mai sunt al grupului mamut FC, si nu-mi prea place ce inteleg. De cand cu fuziunile astea turbate toate produsele au gusturi tot mai asemanatoare, intitulate generic "gust care nu e bun".
Sa revenim la branza noastra, care inca are gust ok, si ma face sa o mai mananc si alta data. Probabil ca in lipsa conditiilor favorabile existentei unor centre de productie mici si independente, de pe la noi, fie ele ale lui Ion, Ioji sau Iohann, ne putem gandi si la ceva pozitiv de genul ca au loc de munca cateva sute de oameni din tara, si ca, daca un produs al magaoaiei de firma x produs la noi e mai bun, probabil undeva un sub-sub-sub director sau asa ceva e atent cu igiena sau cu selectarea laptelui, cu alegerea oamenilor etc.
Sa nu exagerez...am mai gasit pe youtube un user care se dedica criticarii aceleiasi firme, adevar sau antireclama? Si eu care credeam ca am ales drept tema o simpla branza de la raft, vad ca ea e un fel de vedeta colaterala in lupta de branduri. Interesant. Mai gasesc si alte chestii, cam skimpy e drept: http://www.brandinfo.ro/istorie/3/Napolact.html . Deci candva era un Vlad care exporta "inclusiv in Statele Unite ale Americii"? Deja sunt curioasa cand, cum, in ce fel se organiza un astfel de export. Complicat.
http://www.wall-street.ro/slideshow/Marketing-PR/32734/Cele-mai-longevive-20-de-branduri-romanesti/16/Napolact-Un-secol-de-lactate.html, slide-ul 16 din 20 e un pic mai detaliat. Aha. Ma prefac ca e de ajuns. Si incep sa ma strepezesc la numele folosite in re-branding: "iaurturile Zdravan si Numa’ Bun, smantana Gospodar si iaurtul Usurel".Iiih. Nu imi plac denumirile astea, bine ca nu au botezat si branza cumva.
Gata, m-am plictisit. O poza, si inchei.
Am mancat azi ceva telemea sarata(uscata/de iarna), de la un chiosc de lemn (daca am inteles eu bine) din Bucuresti, home made, dar am constatat cu oarece surpriza ca nu imi mai place, m-am obisnuit cu mirosul neutru si gustul bun, fara a fi picant, prea-de-oaie sau cu ceva particular, al Cedrei de oi Huedin. Ma tot holbam nemultumita la bucata, pitoreasca, ce e drept, dar care ma facea sa ma incrunt, din farfurie.
Acu, daca nu ma inseala memoria gustativa, branza asta taraneasca e pe undeva gresita, mancam si mai demult telemea, demult de tot in copilarie, de la unchii indepartati din Sibiu, si nu simteam ca parca mananc si oaia cu tot cu lana, dupa ploaie. Nu era gresita nici asta chiar asa rau sa nu o poti manca (am mirosit si mestecat jumatate de ora si produse intr-atat de rele, cu alte ocazii), dar the aftertaste cel putin ma face sa ma gandesc la oi nu prea spalate si la plovere de lana...
Deci voi reveni modest la telemeaua Huedin-easca, care nu imi pune la incercare mirosul sau rezistenta la sare cu aroma de oaie. O data am nimerit si dinasta foarte sfaramicioasa si slaba, dar am incercat, mai precaut, ce e drept, sa mai cumpar inca o data, si era normala, cu destula grasime. O mananc molcom si fara pretentii pe paine cu unt, langa cartofi prajiti, langa ou ochi sau fiert, pe macaroane, cu rosii si paine, si sper ca nu se va scumpi in mod demoralizant...
Cat despre producatori, am gasit pe net ca au undeva la 386 de angajati, ca is pe la Cluj, au avut ceva acuzatii ca importa lapte mai ieftin si il vand ca lapte clujean, dar le-au dezmintit...Daca mergem pe fir, vedem ca in dezmintire a fost citat Peter Szautner, managerul general al Friesland Campina Romania, deci Napolact asta e doar cu numele ro, e un brand preluat, fuzionat si innebunit (http://www.revista-piata.ro/Peter_Szautner__director_executiv_al_FrieslandCampina_Romania-id4993.html). Nu stiu sa caut mai ordonat, dar se vede pe acolo un amestec de Campina, Parmalat, Danone, Milli...Inteleg ca toate au fost la un moment dat sau inca mai sunt al grupului mamut FC, si nu-mi prea place ce inteleg. De cand cu fuziunile astea turbate toate produsele au gusturi tot mai asemanatoare, intitulate generic "gust care nu e bun".
Sa revenim la branza noastra, care inca are gust ok, si ma face sa o mai mananc si alta data. Probabil ca in lipsa conditiilor favorabile existentei unor centre de productie mici si independente, de pe la noi, fie ele ale lui Ion, Ioji sau Iohann, ne putem gandi si la ceva pozitiv de genul ca au loc de munca cateva sute de oameni din tara, si ca, daca un produs al magaoaiei de firma x produs la noi e mai bun, probabil undeva un sub-sub-sub director sau asa ceva e atent cu igiena sau cu selectarea laptelui, cu alegerea oamenilor etc.
Sa nu exagerez...am mai gasit pe youtube un user care se dedica criticarii aceleiasi firme, adevar sau antireclama? Si eu care credeam ca am ales drept tema o simpla branza de la raft, vad ca ea e un fel de vedeta colaterala in lupta de branduri. Interesant. Mai gasesc si alte chestii, cam skimpy e drept: http://www.brandinfo.ro/istorie/3/Napolact.html . Deci candva era un Vlad care exporta "inclusiv in Statele Unite ale Americii"? Deja sunt curioasa cand, cum, in ce fel se organiza un astfel de export. Complicat.
http://www.wall-street.ro/slideshow/Marketing-PR/32734/Cele-mai-longevive-20-de-branduri-romanesti/16/Napolact-Un-secol-de-lactate.html, slide-ul 16 din 20 e un pic mai detaliat. Aha. Ma prefac ca e de ajuns. Si incep sa ma strepezesc la numele folosite in re-branding: "iaurturile Zdravan si Numa’ Bun, smantana Gospodar si iaurtul Usurel".Iiih. Nu imi plac denumirile astea, bine ca nu au botezat si branza cumva.
Gata, m-am plictisit. O poza, si inchei.
Saturday, 26 March 2011
Good one
“The best index to a person’s character is how he treats people who can’t do him any good, and how he treats people who can’t fight back.”
— Abigail Van Buren
Found on http://karishma.me/.
Good one.
— Abigail Van Buren
Found on http://karishma.me/.
Good one.
Wednesday, 23 March 2011
Moment of wildlife
A couple of years ago, in the village from the hills (we are in a plain area, so the hills are quite a thing to have a village on here), which village I have a like-hate chemistry with, in one of the rare quiet-landscape-moments, we went up on one of the smaller hills to make a phone call.
We passed the thorny plants, the winding savage plants, and we sat down on the shorter grass. Out of the bushes a small dear appeared. As I was sitting down it approached me. I froze, because it seemed so unreal. Later I thought that the baby dear must have been confused by my position and my maroon clothes.
It stopped right near me, and for a moment we all looked like statues. Then I reached out with my hand, while trying to decide if I wanted to pet it or not.
A high pitched scream scared us humans wit the same scare the dear was probably experiencing. Suddenly realizing I am not what it thought, it was screaming and in a few seconds it disappeared behind some other bushes.
I am glad I did not touch it after all, and it all remained a weird fantastic moment to later talk about. Its world and our world were parallel and they should have remained so.
No sightseeing (to many semi stray dogs), no wild nature pictures (just our yard), no grandparents' village feeling, but a few moments like these in a couple of years make the like part in the mixed feelings I have about this place.
We passed the thorny plants, the winding savage plants, and we sat down on the shorter grass. Out of the bushes a small dear appeared. As I was sitting down it approached me. I froze, because it seemed so unreal. Later I thought that the baby dear must have been confused by my position and my maroon clothes.
It stopped right near me, and for a moment we all looked like statues. Then I reached out with my hand, while trying to decide if I wanted to pet it or not.
A high pitched scream scared us humans wit the same scare the dear was probably experiencing. Suddenly realizing I am not what it thought, it was screaming and in a few seconds it disappeared behind some other bushes.
I am glad I did not touch it after all, and it all remained a weird fantastic moment to later talk about. Its world and our world were parallel and they should have remained so.
No sightseeing (to many semi stray dogs), no wild nature pictures (just our yard), no grandparents' village feeling, but a few moments like these in a couple of years make the like part in the mixed feelings I have about this place.
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
People
The news coverage of the Japan events is barely there.
This constitutes an information in itself: the situation is so hugely desperate that the entire fragile network of wires and waves and technology that the humans were counting on is gone. No live transmissions with reporters picking their words in front of the blazing fire, in a way that would assure the rating goes up. No editorials that mean something, that reflect the events in a journalistic way. Not as far as I read.
Just the horrifying unexpected event. A shattered country and nation. An empty question inside: Why?
And the feeling that we have been watching so many high budget movies about natural disasters that our psychic is used to terrible images and is numb when confronted with reality. The adrenaline sometimes rushes at a new update as it would in a crucial scene from an action flick.
But this isn't a movie. Sadly. This is happening for real.
And it poses a lot of questions about humans. Was this absolutely natural? Why couldn't it be anticipated, with all the technological progress? Why is one of the most advanced countries without resources in self-defense against natural disasters?
Have the humans chosen to forget about what may happen when such things occur and had agreed to drain the money only into banks and pockets and business?
When the calamity strikes money or stocks cannot replace food, power sources, heat, medical supplies, or even a safe piece of land that's not shaking or being swept by huge waves.
Where are the "fortunes" of people? ONU talks about a potential famine in the not so near future and about eating insects, an entire country is breaking down, the food is bad and the agriculture soars. Food and clothing, price-wise, are like dinosaurs from another era compared with technological gadgets: a camera costs less than a couple of days' food, sometimes even less that a good winter jacket.
Where is the research meant to help, really help people? To make our lives better, our understanding wider, our existence wiser? To find solutions out of the box?
I find it sad to think it is a project on a napkin in the pockets of some individuals with money, who crunch numbers and don't find it worthy to spend in this direction.
Who probably see just numbers in Japan, also...Numbers instead of people.
This constitutes an information in itself: the situation is so hugely desperate that the entire fragile network of wires and waves and technology that the humans were counting on is gone. No live transmissions with reporters picking their words in front of the blazing fire, in a way that would assure the rating goes up. No editorials that mean something, that reflect the events in a journalistic way. Not as far as I read.
Just the horrifying unexpected event. A shattered country and nation. An empty question inside: Why?
And the feeling that we have been watching so many high budget movies about natural disasters that our psychic is used to terrible images and is numb when confronted with reality. The adrenaline sometimes rushes at a new update as it would in a crucial scene from an action flick.
But this isn't a movie. Sadly. This is happening for real.
And it poses a lot of questions about humans. Was this absolutely natural? Why couldn't it be anticipated, with all the technological progress? Why is one of the most advanced countries without resources in self-defense against natural disasters?
Have the humans chosen to forget about what may happen when such things occur and had agreed to drain the money only into banks and pockets and business?
When the calamity strikes money or stocks cannot replace food, power sources, heat, medical supplies, or even a safe piece of land that's not shaking or being swept by huge waves.
Where are the "fortunes" of people? ONU talks about a potential famine in the not so near future and about eating insects, an entire country is breaking down, the food is bad and the agriculture soars. Food and clothing, price-wise, are like dinosaurs from another era compared with technological gadgets: a camera costs less than a couple of days' food, sometimes even less that a good winter jacket.
Where is the research meant to help, really help people? To make our lives better, our understanding wider, our existence wiser? To find solutions out of the box?
I find it sad to think it is a project on a napkin in the pockets of some individuals with money, who crunch numbers and don't find it worthy to spend in this direction.
Who probably see just numbers in Japan, also...Numbers instead of people.
Tuesday, 8 March 2011
Thursday, 17 February 2011
As predicted...
As predicted by myself, of course, the blog is starting to be abandoned. A bit. By myself, again. But not yet completely...
I was trying desperately to find online a sort of central knot of daily informations, gathered by another criteria than the usual in any newspaper online. Not in an "everything" section, which spreads further in "culture", "politics", "science" sections...
This type of separation is classical and outdated, now we could easily establish links daily between the financial events, the artistic ones, the science progress in the day X...why don't we? By we, of course, I mean somebody else than me:). Someone with the skills and the means to make a new era daily everything site. Or sites.
Of course such a virtual place could not include everything important, so why not make a few, like the video rentals used to have " John's pick" or "Andy's pick". Some different types of choosers would sort the relevant events and put them in virtual boxes, then allow themselves to also pick a theme or conclusion of that day.
And me, or my grandpa, or my younger cousin could follow one of those options, and still form a pertinent idea of how today felt around the world...
Maybe there are such sites, comfy, yet informative...Are there?
I was trying desperately to find online a sort of central knot of daily informations, gathered by another criteria than the usual in any newspaper online. Not in an "everything" section, which spreads further in "culture", "politics", "science" sections...
This type of separation is classical and outdated, now we could easily establish links daily between the financial events, the artistic ones, the science progress in the day X...why don't we? By we, of course, I mean somebody else than me:). Someone with the skills and the means to make a new era daily everything site. Or sites.
Of course such a virtual place could not include everything important, so why not make a few, like the video rentals used to have " John's pick" or "Andy's pick". Some different types of choosers would sort the relevant events and put them in virtual boxes, then allow themselves to also pick a theme or conclusion of that day.
And me, or my grandpa, or my younger cousin could follow one of those options, and still form a pertinent idea of how today felt around the world...
Maybe there are such sites, comfy, yet informative...Are there?
Monday, 24 January 2011
I like Maru the cat...
I am back. For those who know my FB status update, the reason for my self-imposed isolation was posted there. It is pretty hard to not hate the entire world and its machinery of nerve-twisting when one cannot fix some injustices in life for 5 months now.
But I broke the silence. Those who offered at least a friendly ear or shoulder were more than welcome. I am trying to get back my life besides running in my mind rules and regulations that confirm human rights vs facts that step over the same rights.
And tonight I saw the cat Maru again, something so trivial yet so simple and cute that has become notorious over the net. So what if its only a cat? It made me smile, and I so need that...
Two days ago, I read about the comedian who just asked for 1 million dollars in a you tube movie, and apparently got them. Good for him. Proves that life also has an appreciation for non conformism and a sense of humor. I hope this is for real and I wish I had had the nerve to do something like that. I remember having ideas like that, when I was younger. Not so bitter, not so crushed...in the dreams department.
So, status update: I like Maru, Dylan Moran gigs and fresh ideas that prove we don't always have to be precise, scientific ad combative to be able to succeed.
:)
But I broke the silence. Those who offered at least a friendly ear or shoulder were more than welcome. I am trying to get back my life besides running in my mind rules and regulations that confirm human rights vs facts that step over the same rights.
And tonight I saw the cat Maru again, something so trivial yet so simple and cute that has become notorious over the net. So what if its only a cat? It made me smile, and I so need that...
Two days ago, I read about the comedian who just asked for 1 million dollars in a you tube movie, and apparently got them. Good for him. Proves that life also has an appreciation for non conformism and a sense of humor. I hope this is for real and I wish I had had the nerve to do something like that. I remember having ideas like that, when I was younger. Not so bitter, not so crushed...in the dreams department.
So, status update: I like Maru, Dylan Moran gigs and fresh ideas that prove we don't always have to be precise, scientific ad combative to be able to succeed.
:)
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