Archive for the ‘Πολιτικά’ Category

I know what you did last June   1 comment

That evening really reminded of a multiple series of commercials. Everything seemed bright, shiny successful and guaranteed for full-frontal with great feelings; or maybe I just saw it that way; the place, the location, the people, the atmosphere, the temperature. Everything. Athens at its best. I had planned very few things, because grace and luck prevails when you meet loved ones. I had decided just two weeks in advance –after months of thinking, jumped in the plane, had an unnecessarily long and tiring trip with delays at some skies and some airport, but had finally landed. Already in March I –we- had received a sweet message inviting to a femme-fatale’s birthday, a woman juicy and succulent as a summer peach. I just could not not go. That friend alone was enough to make the trip worth; and if nothing else my learning so far is to cherish and pursue the opportunities to meet rare people.

I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, for I hadn’t mentioned my arrival to anyone but to two other jewel-friends and waited patiently few minutes under her apartment till other invitees arrived. I sneaked in with another couple and squeezed in the elevator. I was already smiling forecasting the moment our eyes would meet. And there she was, as I expected; a vision in her purple dress with her purple shoes and a big smile framed by her blonde curls. Ah, but honestly aren’t women so beautiful? How can they change from kittens to bitches and from sweet to rough? No man can achieve that unless a male chameleon.

Her eyes shined so much and she was childishly happy to see me. Bingo, mission accomplished! She took me around, introduced me to everyone, portrayed me as the precious friend; she really spoiled me and I enjoyed it, because she introduce me to beautiful people (the beautiful people). I talked to lips that waterfalled me with lyrical words and new thoughts and inspiring images, and new new new things. I briefly escaped to lean on the balcony overlooking Akropolis; the epitomy of the Athenean sky. It is simple, cities without landscape or without lookouts and miradors lack significantly, independently of the national GDP. How can you not want to see, gaze and grasp the whole city? See where others live, breathe and grow, where is the green, the gray, the blue, the corners, the rounds and the spheres; I don’t know, things like that. The heart, the arms, the legs and the head of a city. If you can’t see this and feel it, your world is as small as the dead end of the neighborhood road.

I met many wonderful people with clear eyes and good dreams. All comets and stars meeting for a night in the same starry sky. But most of all I was impressed by her parents. You know discussion you might have with people you meet for the first time; awkward and most likely empty. Empty in feeling but full of social convention. I hate those and at that night I had rightfully forgotten my plastic smile some 3000 kilometers away from the venue. My brief discussion with her mother, revealed a kind nature, a sober woman who within 3 minutes analysed to me the values of theatre and its evolution in the area the last two decades. Impressive. A speech full of passion about the apotheosis of human mind through the art shown on a stage; a stage that might be minimalistic but is not necessarily stripped of its quality. Bang! What a woman.

But most, I fell in love with her father. I will admit it wasn’t love at first site, for the father has lived his life in his (probably) 70s and life has lived him (as) well. Inspired by the easiness and rapid excitement from the discussion with the mother, I introduced myself and briefly explained how I met his daughter. Then, I stepped shamelessly on the sole verified information I had about him, namely his entrepreneurial skills. I just fired the question “You actually started your career in the post-WWII period. How was it to start in post civil-war Greece?”. Questions like that are still taboo, even after 50+ years.

“ Oh, that was difficult. You know, those were the years that for every job you would apply or start with you needed a Certificate of Social Belief (Πιστοποιητικό Κοινωνικών Φρονημάτων). Now, there was an Authority, that would sent its agents to your neighborhood, your village, the university your social circles and would question and gather information about you and confirm you are not a Communist. I happened to have the same name and surname as an uncle of mine. And this uncle –like every decent patriot- was part of the Resistance against the Nazis.”

Και αυτός ο θείος όπως ΚΑΘΕ ΓΝΗΣΙΟΣ ΠΑΤΡΙΩΤΗΣ –αυτό το σημείο, Τίνα, ο πατέρας σου το τόνισε- ήταν στο ΕΑΜ. For a split second, I must admit, when I heard the word “patriot” I got scared of the answer I would receive; having grown in a leftish environment we were not using this word a lot, and I was brainwashed with the post civil-war, post-dictatorship perception that I should not to talk a lot about these things too much outside the “red” neighborhood. But the father had more to say.

“So you can understand; I got stigmatized and there wasn’t much to do about it. You know, we were poor back then, but having good fun. Because life, I tell you, is about having fun and falling in love. We had old socks with holes, and we would share cigarettes. But we would always wear ties, because girls liked ties. I had one jacket, but I would wear this one, because girls liked jackets. Then I moved to Switzerland and from there I saw a lot of things. Different world to make business.

…business… Switzerland… Europe… post-war… poverty… fun… music… return… motherland… Dad… lips… talking…. sound… traveling… traveling…

I also visited Holland; The Hague, Rotterdam; Leiden, Amsterdam. I saw Holland at its prime time, because I went there when my prime time was on. I fell in love for the first time in and with Holland. I visited the country just when I should have done, when I was young and I was absorbing energy and beauty like a sponge. Love, you know, love. (Έρωτας, καταλαβαίνεις? Έρωτας…) There was a spark in the eyes and love in the air. You could smell it and you could see it.

That’s what worries me about the young people today. I walk on the streets and I see no love. Youngsters are not interested in each other, how is this possible? They are not interested in falling in love and their eyes are lifeless and sparkless. I just don’t get it. Youngsters not going after love (mumbled and shook his head). The world has change and I don’t know where it is going”.

Monologue. I was swept away and left speechless, still surfing on the echo of his words, dancing his line of arguments, levitating by this deeply political discussion. The father was flower-power. In his 70s (?) still advocating the power of love as a life energy and panacea to civic problems. I tried to think of the last time someone talked about love as idea with such passion. I couldn’t think of a single instance since The Symposium of Plato, and that included teenage promises. I wanted to hug him and fuse my brains with his, get his energy and see the world forever through his loving eyes.


Posted Thursday, 1 October, 2009 by piperi in Estimated friends, Πολιτικά, Rock 'n' Roll

Merry Christmas HO-HO-HO!   Leave a comment

After spending some months in non-democratic countries, finally I return to be proud of my own! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL!

The blog has been down for a few days and will be down for some more until I manage to find once-again-conscience-relieving-not-necessarily-fact-based-yet-comfortable answers on some of the following questions:

– Will justice decide if a 15 year-old should die or will Rambo return from Afghanistan?

– Can invertebrates study law?

– Who judges a judge? No. 1? Internationally?

– Do flower pots send people to hospitals for 5 euros a day?

– Does religion own lakes?

– Is working 16 hours as allegedly mind altering as ministers demonstrate?

– Which is better travel agency; the Monastery of Vatopedion or Siemens?

– How many policemen are necessary to celebrate white Christmas in gray Athens?

– Are fascists truly elected or only deserved?

– Does the constitution protect the Orwellian equivalence of a pork-head-offering with a pork-man?

– How many known-unknowns can a closed mathematical system of one equation solve?

– Do tear gases cure spiritual flatulence?

– Will national prices for couches drop after a series of demonstrations with adult participants?

– Can you find 3 Wise Men and a Virgin in the parliament?

– What does a pork head need to obtain ISO 9001 and HACCP?

– What is the energy potential of 300 representatives in joules/inch^2 during a football match or  at the night club?

– Will the Army put some order or will the Order put some army?

– How many dictionaries of greek language does it take to change an LED lamp?

– Why did the shit hit the fan left-center-right?

– Can you choose which country you betray if you have no citizenship?

– Will Christmas still be celebrated even if the mayor of Athens would place Rudolph’s nose up his rectum?

– Does spiritual masturbation evoke same physical feelings as physical masturbation provokes spiritual experiences?

Huf, so many questions to be answered, better go and buy, the market needs my financial face lifting!

Answers to the quiz here.

(If you don’t propagate these Seasonal Wishes, you are doomed to be brain-dead before you say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. This is not your usual threat; this is your usual penitence.)

Posted Sunday, 21 December, 2008 by piperi in Gut feeling, Κακώς κείμενα, Πολιτικά, Sex, Violence

Γυμνάσια   2 comments

Ήταν ένας Άγγλος, ένας Ισπανός και ένας Έλληνας. Ο Άγγλος έκανε 30 λεπτά κωπηλασία, 200 κοιλιακούς, σήκωσε μαδέρια και σίδερα να κρατήσει τα μπράτσα. Ο Ισπανός πήρε γύρα όλα τα μηχανήματα, έκανε 10^2 επαναλήψεις και έπαιξε 3 παρτίδες σκουός με τον Άγγλο, για να μείνει σε φόρμα. Μετά απο 2 ώρες ιδρώτα και γυμνάσια, πήγαν στην πισίνα για τα ύστατα 500 μέτρα. Τα κορμιά-αγάλματα βούτηξαν και άρχισαν να κολυμπάν σα δελφίνια στην πρώτη νιότη.

Ο Έλληνας, ακολουθούμενος από ένα Θόδωρο όπως ο θείος του, άνοιξε το μπουρνούζι, άπλωσε την πλαδαροκοιλιά πάνω από το (ίδιο) κόκκινο μαγιώ και δε βούτηξε. Κατέβηκε τα σκαλάκια. Αφέθηκε στο νερό όπως μόνο ένας ηγέτης θα μπορούσε να κάνει και μόνο ένας Νεύτωνας να εξηγήσει, και άρχισε να κολυμπάει, doggy style, εν είδει προσθίου θα έλεγε κανείς, με το κεφάλι πάνω από το νερό. Έκανε και 200 μέτρα με διάλειμμα ανά 25 μέτρα, βγήκε, έβαλε το μπουρνούζι, αιφνιδιάστηκε απο το “καλή επιτυχία”, γύρισε, κοίταξε, χαιρέτησε όπως ο Παπανδρέου ερχόμενος απο το Λονδίνο με τη Μιμή, και έφυγε.

Με σεμνότητα, ταπεινότητα… και βρεγμένα οπίσθια.

Κι όλα αυτά στη Ντόχα.

Posted Sunday, 26 October, 2008 by piperi in Food poisoning, Πολιτικά, Uncategorized