duminică, 23 august 2015

A broken theory



"To be honest with you, I am not an envious man; I've never had any reason really... Why would I want to trade places with a stranger and feel what they feel or do what they do? It would be such a violation of my own intimacy. I believe that envy is a sin of the grotesque man, a simpleness of the spirit on which the gregarious mentality is built."

"Rudy, that's such bullshit...
If your personal evolution is possible it is only because you imagine yourself as being better. If you can imagine yourself a better man, it means you are envious... you envy the very man you could become.
And even without any better humans around,  you'd ultimately envy God, the Beast or any other almighty and everlasting being which you'll end up trying to personify. You're bound to envy by your own limitations!"

"Gill. you're taking this to a level where there's no way for me to argue, but I still hold my own, personal truth"

"Well, I believe that this arrogance of yours is closer to gross hypocrisy than to an elegant separation from the throng of the masses..." A long silence ensued; at the end of it, Gill continued :
"Sorry Rudy, but I'm just going through a phase where I need to figure out the essence of things! I can't stand this inebriation of words, still I'd hate for us to fight over...", but before Gill could finish, his phone rang and he went outside Rudy's apartment to answer the call and have a cigarette while at it.

When he came back, Rudy did not open the door for him and Gill only stood there for a minute before he realized that he would not be let in anymore. He turned away from the door and a couple of days later, he left the city as well.

For the next 2 weeks, Gill had been travelling by train and bus to the neighboring country and the most powerful memory that would stick to him from those 2 days was bumping against the cold, skinny ass of an ugly girl whom he offered a cigarette right next to the disgusting toilet he had just used.

Without his antagonist, Rudy had time to re-read those three books which made him who he was. He found no reason to doubt a single word he was reading and at times, even believed that he had thought of some of those things before he had read them in those books.

One month later, Gill returned to the city and visited the same pub where he used to hang out with Rudy. After all this time, he was surprised to hear himself order the exact same drinks as he would always order. That evening, he got really drunk all by himself, had a few chats at the bar, even a small fight, but could not remember with whom or why. When it was closing time, it was the bartender who shook his shoulder and asked him to leave after he had let him sleep for almost an hour with his head on the bar.

The next morning he woke up at the usual time and he was struck by a strange, inflexible desire to tie his shoes, button his shirt, comb his hair, brush his teeth, make coffee and fry three eggs in the exact same manner in which he used to, before he had left the city. He felt so desperately lonely that he resorted to calling Rudy and asking him to have lunch together.

It was during that lunch meeting that Gill dared Rudy to actually witness him become a completely different man every week, just so that he can prove to him that some of the roles he was intending to play would be much better than Rudy's real life.
After several roles, including volunteer, daredevil, sociopath and reporter,  Gill dies on the Saturday of the week in which he was trying to impress 10 girls /day.
Rudy feels so guilty for the accident, that he starts writing letters addressed to his deceased friend Gill, asking him for forgiveness. He later becomes schizophrenic and starts receiving answers to his letters from Gill of the Underworld, both reproachful as well as kind and forgiving.

joi, 2 iulie 2015

looking for the shortest distance

"the shortest distance between two mountains is from peak to peak" - Nietzsche

The pope talks about global warming, but more importantly makes you feel GUILTY. As long as the feeling of guilt is ensured, the church doesn't mind using anything as a tool. Not even God...
Biased newspapers with big names thrive on the readiness of lazy minds to make a quick sense of the world.
Isis denigrated Isis and Egypt is NOT BOTHERED
The happy gay ejaculate rainbows all over Facebook
Talks about war make it real but more importantly make you FEAR. And there are those who believe war is justified...they are so miserable and self-hating that they resonate with any other hater of humanity.

Sophists on Tweeter and FB are philosophizing about the fate of Greece with loud arguments which are inferior to the ones of the PRESOCRATICS millenniums before them...and there's this constant background noise of djs' cheerful voices, music recipes, endless ambulances wailing and longer work hours, impatience resulting in fast feeding the spirit with porn and motivational quotes, which tell you not to be to hard on yourself...

Industries expanded and along with the mass production of matter, came the mass production of thought; loud voices grow louder while spreading ideas belonging to others , as the proverbial sheep shouting "four legs good, two legs bad!"

The pity we take on animals being caged, drained of resources and then sacrificed is actually empathy, i.e.  a form of self pity of the modern man who lives in a small apartment,is force-fed, works long hours - if lucky enough to have work and pay the bank for the privileges of a roof. He then dies, having participated to the well-being of the FARMERS.

Clarity of thought is such a ridiculous thing to claim when even the sharpest of minds are trained by traditional educators to dissect false issues, arising from various soap bubbles, e.g. economics
The edges of millions of years before and ahead of us are growing further and further away from us and the further they expand, the less significant our struggles... even if we were equidistant.
We all live in a huge, Matryoshka which I swear, keeps growing but does not move !!


luni, 15 iunie 2015

Doua sau trei roluri

Cand Tiberiu se ridica, simti ca dintii care i se ciobisera de bordura devenisera atat de calzi, incat ii ardeau buzele, iar pe varful limbii zgariate, gustul smaltului se imbiba cu praf si sange. Nestiind ce sa faca, incepu sa maraie si forma 112 cu ochii inlacrimati.

Trei zile mai tarziu, Tiberiu era chemat din nou la sectia de politie pentru a revedea o serie de poze cu suspecti.
Ca de fiecare data, la ghiseu trebui sa explice aceluiasi individ cine e, cu cine aranjase intalnirea si ce cauta "cu adevarat" acolo. Tiberiu nu stia sigur daca respectivul receptioner era amnezic, sarguincios sau doar un mic functionar insetat de puterea de-a fi o buturuga mai mare.

Tiberiu intra de aceasta data intr-un alt birou, unde politistul achetator, Verdean era afundat in studiul unor hartii si nu isi ridicase nici de aceasta data privirea sa-l salute sau macar sa-i recunoasca prezenta.
Verdean era un tip inalt, grizonat, cu un o fata ascutita, dar simetrica si purta o uniforma imaculata care parea ca este la prima purtare. Fusese politist chiar inainte de '89 si avea o atitudine condescendenta care urma sa-i para lui Tiberiu ca fiind in contrast cu adevarata lui autoperceptie.  Mai avea cam un an pana la pensie si fusese promovat la pozitia de anchetator sef, o functie pentru care familia lui il felicitase, iar el le multumise cu un zambet fortat in timpul unui cine organziate de fiica lui, Sorana. Pe tot parcursul serii respective, achetatorul visa doar la linistea camerei sale obscure unde-si studia timbrele si monedele la lumina lampii.

Dupa un minut de liniste, Verdean il privi pe Tiberiu si il indemna sa ia loc.
"Deci dupa ce ai desfacut legatoarea bicicletei si ai reusit sa urci pe jumatate, ai auzit pe cineva rastindu-se la tine si cand ai intors capul ai fost lovit fara sa recunosti individul"
"Da, s-a furisat fiindca nu-l auzisem si cand a fost destul de aproape a strigat facandu-ma sa-mi intorc capul. M-a lovit inainte sa reusesc sa-i vad fata...Am cazut si mi-am pierdut cunostinta pentru cateva secunde. Cand m-am ridicat individul disparuse si bicicleta mea odata cu el"
"Aha, inteleg. Hai sa ne mai uitam la poze"

Tiberiu nu reusi nici de aceasta data sa identifice agresorul printre exact aceiasi suspecti propusi de Verdean. Cand incerca sa isi aminteasca de acea noapte, gustul de sange imbibat cu praf si dinti sfarmati revenea autoritar si nu ii permitea memoriei sale sa contureze niciun alt detaliu prea clar...

Dupa inca o ora si 20 de minute in care Verdean il chestiona in legatura cu evenimentele din noaptea respectiva, lui Tiberiu ii veni greu sa isi mai aminteasca ce se intamplase cu adevarat. La fiecare raspuns pe care-l dadea, politistul il intreba daca nu cumva o alta varianta era mai plauzibila.
Cand de exemplu, Tiberiu afirma ca iesise din casa la 8 seara, polististul il intreba daca n-a fost cumva 7:45, sau daca bicicleta nu fusese cumva imprumutata, sau daca nu cumva o luase pe strada Kant Immanuel in loc de Cantemir, daca filmul fusese la cinema Regizorul si nu la cinema Actorul, de la 9 sau de la 8:30.

Tiberiu isi intise picioarele pe sub masa, lasandu-se pe spatarul scaunului, obosit de interogtoriul aiuritor pe care politistul Verdean il construia. I se parea ca acesta incerca sa-si completeze raportul si sa inchida cazul mai repede.

"Tibi", spuse politistul intr-o voce afecatata, "eu lucrez de multi ani in Politie. De obicei, in aceste cazuri, avem de-a face cu oameni saraci. Oameni care au fost marginalizati de societate; e pacat, dar e un fenomen social specific tarii noastre... trebuie sa ne fie mila de acesti indivizi, care traiesc din gainarii. Nu o lua personal, a vrut doar bicicleta ta pentru un mic profit. Sigur, poti face o plangere cu autor necunoscut, Cum nu poti sa identifici pe nimeni, pot doar sa presupun...Dar spune-mi, cine era fata cu care te-ai intalnit?"
"Am cunoscut-o in urma cu doua seri. Fusese prima noastra intalnire; dupa ce am condus-o acasa, m-am indreptat catre locul unde-mi legasem bicicleta ca sa pornesc inspre casa. Era cam miezul noptii si ma grabeam sa ajung la baie"
"Dar de ce nu i-ai cerut ei sa iti permita sa folosesti toaleta?"
"Ar fi parut un truc ieftin pentru a ma autoinvita la ea acasa. In plus, cred ca locuieste cu parintii"
"Stii care e numele ei de familie? Sau ce fac parintii ei? Daca are poate un fost prieten gelos?"
"Am cunoscut-o de cateva zile. N-am intrat in detalii... Spuneti ca ar putea fi un fost prieten? Nu m-am gandit la asta!"
"Ar putea fi... si s-ar putea sa-ti fi luat bicicleta pentru a ne induce in eroare. Eu zic ca ar fi bine sa o intrebi pe Sorana despre fostul ei prieten..."
"Dar de unde stiti cum o cheama?!"

Un an mai tarziu,Verdean o aducea pe Sorana la altar, iar Tiberiu o primi in aplauzele si uralele celor prezenti.
Fusese una dintre ultimele intalniri ale lui Vedean cu fiica sa, pentru ca Tiberiu fusese din nou atacat cateva saptamani mai tarziu de un individ care nu reusise sa il domine fizic pe Tiberiu si de la care acesta afla ca fusese trimis de acelasi tata socru.

duminică, 17 mai 2015

Talharnici

clavident, talharnicii au adunasit muleroase avutati in noptunericul logitiunii

duminică, 29 martie 2015

Pe aripi germane in vant - o tasnire epica

Daca n-ar fi fost cutia neagra a avionului Airbus A320 

*probabil ca jurnalistii de investigatie ar fi facut legatura intre dezastrul Germanwings si situatii precedente in care gaze toxice au patruns in cabina pilotilor, provocandu-le acestora semi-paralizie si fortandu-i sa aterizeze pe cel mai apropiat aeroport. Problema pare sa fie destul de comuna cu tipul acesta de avion.

http://www.dw.de/aircraft-fumes-are-a-potential-travel-hazard/a-16629455
http://www.dw.de/gases-caused-near-disaster-on-german-plane/a-16274783
http://www.fireinews.com/news-8742848.html
http://www.dw.de/german-plane-makes-emergency-landing-in-croatia/a-17045934
http://www.ibtimes.co.uk/vueling-airbus-a320-makes-emergency-landing-barcelona-1493724
http://www.dw.de/safety-conflict-at-europes-flight-safety-agency/a-16319280

Sistemele de ventilatie 
In anul 2012, un raport al autoritatilor germane, mentioneaza 67 de cazuri (logate in decurs de 3 ani) in care gazuri toxice patrund in cabinele pilotilor. Principala cauza este introducerea aerului compresat in sistemul de ventilatie prin intermediul motoarelor (o solutie low cost). Odata cu acesta, exista un risc major ca gazele produse de uleiul de motor sa patrunda in sistemul de ventilatie. In doze mici, provoaca doar o senzatie de discomfort si dureri de cap, dar dozele mai mari provoaca semiparalizie si chiar pierderea cunostintei.

Teoria conspiratiei vs. Lumea Imaginatiei 
Si daca pilotul si copilotul au fost amandoi, impreuna cu pasagerii, victime ale unor probleme tehnice pe care Germanwings (parte din megacorporatia Lufthansa) si uriasul Airbus, au decis ca nu e profitabil sa le remedieze?
Exista sansa ca acest copilot sa fi fost intr-adevar un criminal cu sange rece, dar spre deosebire de altii, el nu mai poate sa se apere. Nici macar n-a scris o scrisoare sa se justifice. E un actor mort, de o versatilitate nemaipomenita, dar oricarui regizor i-ar fi greu sa foloseasca un scenariu in care biografia copilotului are sens.

Time is money.
E foarte probabil ca impactul comercial pe care il are accidentul, este pentru unii mai sever decat pierderea a 150 de vieti omenesti + patarea reputatiei unui simplu copilot mort. Daca nu s-ar fi gasit dovezile clare si incriminatoare in cutia neagra, fiecare noua zi de investigatii, ar fi costat sute de milioane. Probabil ca lovitura de imagine si pierderile financiare pt GermanWings, ar fi fost nimicitoare... Dar asa, vom uita in curand numele copilotului; cutia neagra, unica si de netagaduit a fost gasita! Copilotul va fi pentru totdeauna, exact ceea ce vor scrie cartile de istorie aviatica. Si presa...

marți, 23 decembrie 2014

Necalit(ati)


Mila e pentru multi o metoda eficienta de-a evita empatia. O scurtatura mai putin neplacuta inspre "bunatate"... Ca si "puterea" de-a ierta, provine exclusiv dintr-un reflex imaginativ prin care reusesti sa te vezi la fel de slab sau nenorocit ca individul pe care-l ierti sau compatimesti... Or fi virtuti?

joi, 18 decembrie 2014

Consum

Ti-am uns o felie din viata pe paine,
Am intins-o putin, zi dupa zi,
N-am folosit vreun condiment anume,
Si am decis mai apoi s-o dam unui caine, mai stii?

Cutite zimtate ce taie felii,
Fac painea truncata, mereu tot mai mica,
Doar cainii cei lacomi se-ngrasa mereu,
Si vietile-ntinse pe paine dumnica.

Ieri, cand ai sunat, faceam o disectie,
De-aia-auzeai scheaunaturi de fundal,
Nedigerate felii intindeam la uscat
Cleioasele saptamani si minute picurau... atemporal

Eram tintuit de podea, cu talpile goale, lipite,
Si palmele nude se cleiau catingan,
De tample cu varful, de barba cu podul,
Aievea-auzeam aplauze din subteran