"Any city where the public discourse and culture are dominated by intense dislike or disapproval of "the other" η αλλιως η πρωτευουσα του κομπλεξισμου!
Following the huge controversy caused by this Absolut Vodka ad, which has Mexico reclaiming California, Absolut had indeed to apologize and withdraw the aforementioned ad campaign as too much $$$ are in stakes while Grey Goose Vodka claims the No1 spot in the US market...What really has me pissed off is that I bet very few people (and yes, I mean Americans) know California was indeed a part of Mexico and was captivated effortless by General Scott during the Mexican-American War (1846-1848, How do I know this stuff??? Check out this awesome book from my collection)..It was Mexico that lost California when it considered it of little value, but the territory soon suddenly acquired far greater value with the discovery of gold...I mean how do you have an opinion when you ain't know shit??? And don't tell me that Mexicans are dreaming of getting back those territories...Anyone who believes in a conspiracy being carried out by Mexicans and Mexican-Americans on behalf of Mexico doesn't know beans. Again, who says Mexico even wants the Southwest? Why own when you're already enjoying a windfall? Mexican workers in the United States send home nearly $25 billion annually in remittances. More important, Mexican immigrants aren't exactly loyal disciples of the Mexican government, which many of them blame for the corruption and poverty that sent them packing. This whole controversy was silly, and only Americans seemed to be intoxicated by it. Mexicans couldn't care less...Set aside the historic and politic aspect of the issue I keep wondering why didn't people approached this ad as a damn form of art..is it art, or not? and how do we define art? and how do we explain art to Americans who conceive the world as captivated in the following pic???
More on art and its meaning. Guillermo Vargas Habacuc had 2 children catch a dog which thenchained and used as “art”. He told everyone not to feed this dog. The dog died in the gallery. This guy calls himself an artist but there is like a zillion of people out there signing petitions to ban him while calling him an animal abuser, a killer, a brutal monster, a sick pervert blah blah blah and mainly NOT an artist. 2 things: First, DON'T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU READ (those who know me the most can acknowledge how I've been saying this quote forever...!). This story was soooo intriguing so having all the tell-tale signs of being an internet hoax, I thought little of it. Then yesterday I got 100! invites to join a Facebook group about a petition to stop the artist from repeating the exhibition. The group had grown 17 0.000 members strong and I started to worry, not for the dog but for my friends who so willingly let themselves be caught by the dragnet of mass suggestion..Why??? For the dog did not starve, nor die. The gallery put out a public statement saying that the dog had been fed throughout the exhibition and had escaped after the first day. The Humane Society validates this on their website:
"According to local animal welfare organizations, the dog was in a state of starvation when he was captured from the street for display in the exhibit. We have also been informed that the dog spent one day in the exhibit and later escaped the gallery".
As to whether such an exhibition should be called art I have to go with a big YES cause for me art is such a freedom thing and when we try to define it we inevitably oppress it. There will always be cultural boundaries and different definitions of what is defined as “art”... In no means I approve dog abuse I'm just against censorship. In Greece, in an exhibition back in 2003, there was this pic causing major controversy..Greek government decided this wasn't art and banned it...who signed similar petitions then????
NBA playoffs update: After watching Tim Duncan hit this amazing super clutch 3 pointer (the 1st of the season too) during the 1st OT of an epic game I can only assume he is drinking some bad gatorade...Here's the proof:
I'm going with Celtics, Pistons, Cavs and Magic from the East and Fakers, Suns, Dallas, Utah from the West..See you in the second round!
Seriously now...I'm planning on taking a leave of absence (from everyday life) after watching Guy Ritchie's phenomenal masterpiece (a little bit of exaggeration ain't that bad)...I might have to visit a psychiatrist too (or a shrink, whatever)... Well, I always though that I could have been happier if I wasn't such a big thinker...problem is I still haven't figured out a way to manage to do so and therefore I very often find myself trapped in a series of questions, dilemmas and options...Not that I'm having trouble making decisions but it gets tougher when the options are endless and you think about all possible consequences and implications...Wish I was dumb??? Hell no, but I'll never find out what's better... Back to the movie, the story is pretty interesting with a fast pace plus an excellent casting (actors totally suiting for their roles), you really can't and won't quit on it...And when moving to the point that GR is trying to make then it really gets complicated. And that's why this joint didn't get good reviews but was blasted as "incomprehensible and inconceivable"... Wondering what's the main idea of the movie right???? Take your ego away and then you will feel what's real freedom like! "The greatest enemy will hide in the last place you will ever look" Our true enemy is in us - it is our ego... The voice that always tells us that we are important, that gives us our pride, that tells us not to give, but only to take, that creates our aggression, that wants to be in control, that creates all the negative feelings and thoughts. The only way to gain true control is when you loose control and you just let go of your personal importance. Pretty interesting don't you think??? U really have to watch that last part of the movie to get a true "feeling"... Anyway, I'm out, check the trailer but if you really want to catch a great movie just watch it. Funny I'm writing those things in a blog related to Thessaloniki...Each and everyday I'm finding out that people around are more interested in drinking the frappe or going to bouzoukia (typical in Tuesdays) rather than watching a film...Let me revise that: people, meaning no students (no offense of course)...
Baseball was really never my favorite team sport, it didn't even hit my fav 5...reasons??? Lots (9$ beer among other), but last week I came up with totally persuasive evidence...I give you the "OWNED BASEBALL FANS" (click pic to enlarge)
Baseball is a contact sport. But its the backstory that makes it great...Where do I have to start from??? The lady with the sun glasses that totally "flies the kite", the little girl that reaches for...who knows what, the people on the left who look like they’re watching a horror film and are screaming, the woman behind the bat in the blue shirt going hysterical, or the poor old man that suffered a broken rib...not sure though how he didn’t break his jaw. Then again he’s wearing an Ireland shirt, so I’m sure he’s used to getting hit in the face...And think the funniest part of the picture is how he’s the only one not defending himself from the bat. People a few seats over have their hands raised or are covering themselves...
Paul Shirley (for those of you who aren't familiar with him) is a white male basketball player from Kansas...he ain't no superstar and he pretty much didn't want to be a bball player as he 've earned a degree in Engineering...He's more like a journeyman having logged time practically everywhere in the roundball universe, from six NBA cities to proleagues in Spain and Greece to North's America's pro ball Siberia, the minor leagues. Hell, he's even played in the real Siberia...all of it because he fits the model of the tall (6'10) white dude and well, when you are seven feet tall people expect you to be a professional basketball player, even when you only want to be a mechanic, lying on your back doing an oil change on a '75 Montego...He is also my favorite blogger, with a writing style riding between selfsarcasm and amusement....His original Phoenix Suns blog can be found here, along with an article he wrote for Esquire magazine here, an exchange he did with the great Neal Pollack for slate.com here and a piece he did on his own for that website here....Just take a glimpse and you will see how hilarious this guy is...He recently published his book writing down all his pleasant and especially unpleasant memories, which tend to increase rapidly once he exits US customs...The most exciting part of his stories is hands down when he reminisces events occured during the 2001-2002 basketball season where he played for Panionios B.C. in Athens...You can ready lots of stories in his book including lines like the following:
"It would be my opinion that Greeks dislike two things: lung health and authority"...or "In my time in Athens, I learned that Greeks are a duplicitous lot. Team officials would lie to me with no hesitation"...I guess that has something to do with the fact that we call each other "Λαμογια"... "I never did know how to get to the Greek team's offices; I was always taken there as if I were a hostage who could not be allowed navigational knowledge" "I'd never known that lamb could be used in an omelet" (Durimg his extensive stay at a hotel room)... I think it's totally amazing to get the perspective of a foreigner especially when he is open minded and not biased...Paul was fair enough to give the Greeks the "thumbs up"...
"My linguistic development is also being hampered by the attitude of the Spanish people. In Greece, when I would break down and attempt to ask for something in Greek, the person to whom I was speaking seemed truly grateful that I was making an effort then he would correct my mangled version of the language and say something in English, usually along the lines of "Nice try. Now tell me what you want"...
Comparing Greek fans and their extreme creativity to even throw a row of bleachers or cell phones to players has an advice for the Slovenians: "Amateurs...You have a long way to go..."
The reason though I'm mentioning Paul in today's post in that he recently decided to publish some previously unpublished extras from his book at myspace...well guess what, Greeks are the center of his attention once again...worth reading!
"I think I may be a convert. Driving a manual is more fun than driving an automatic. The reason I’ve had time to contemplate this paradox is that my blue Hyundai is currently being fixed (or at least sitting somewhere and resting) and the rental company that provides my car is letting me use another Hyundai that happens to be an automatic. (This is the second instance of engine trouble in the last month for this car—surprising, considering the unending respect usually reserved for those fine Korean carmakers.) So, I’ve had some opportunities to notice the differences between the two. For example, when I’m attempting to accelerate in order to avoid Sotiris the pizza boy on his moped and my gas pedal turns to mush while the automatic tries to figure out what gear it should select for the job. The Greeks sure are chipper folk. Any time you walk by and give them a smile, or at least one of those eyebrow-raises that says, "Hey, I’m trying to be nice," they never hesitate to give you their nicest death-glare that says, "Hey, it’s noon and I can’t believe I’m awake so soon. Go to hell." But in the most lovable way possible...(Probably my favorite part, what is going on with you people??? Life is beautiful!!! )
My internet service ran out recently and I was forced to find a new provider. It was easy and I had no problems. (If you believe that, you haven’t been paying attention to any of my experiences here.) I bounced on down to the local computer store sometime during its two daily business hours and purchased what looked like a reputable service for the next three months. I got home and began the job. The information contained on the set-up disc was, not surprisingly, all in Greek and all completely worthless, so I called the help line, thinking, "Ha, no simple language barrier can stop me."
What did stop me was that the phone number in the box was, in fact, wrong. After several tries, I finally broke down and called the store where I purchased the fine product.
"Oh, the number changed." (This is where most people would say –we should have told you, but the Greeks would interpret this as a sign of weakness.)
Eventually, it worked, until the next day, when the internet dial-up number magically changed. But they were happy to tell me that, when I called them.
I had another experience with Athens’ finest about a week ago. As I was returning from watching Harry Potter (a little disappointing, but the book set the bar pretty high), I was again waved to the side of the road by the police. This time, however, it was 1:30 a.m. and the whole proceedings took on a more sinister air. The officers were moderately amused by my lack of Greek language skills and again asked for my passport. Unlike the first time this happened, I didn’t have it since it isn’t exactly the first thing I reach for on my way to the movies, and this definitely did not excite them. They grudgingly settled for my Kansas driver’s license and then gave me a breathalyzer test. I fortunately hadn’t had any Nyquil that night, or who knows where I would be right now, and they sent me on my way. The whole painful situation was, thankfully, eased slightly by the Greek person I had with me, who moderated some of the proceedings. The sheer absurdity of the entire experience struck me in the car and I spent a long time afterwards laughing like an idiot. Would I have ever thought that I would have my first-ever sobriety test in Athens, Greece, standing by the side of Voulaigmenis Avenue at 1:30 in the morning? Probably not.
Dejan Bodiroga, the highest-paid player in Europe with a salary of $2 million per year, approaches me on the dribble. We (Panionios) are currently leading Panathanaikos, the second-place team in the Greek league, by two on our home court. When Bodiroga (buddy-ro-gah) received the ball, there were exactly 3.2 seconds on the scoreboard (the one that works, that is).
In the time-out preceding the play in which we are currently suspended, we have managed to set up almost no defensive strategy. But, because a fan took it upon himself to aid our cause by throwing a bottle of water on one end of the court, delaying the game by five minutes, we have had the time to decide to "switch" any screens in the ensuing play. But I digress.
I see Bodiroga, having caught the ball at a point even with the far free-throw line, dribble once, twice and then I decide he is in my realm of the court and pick him up. He dribbles again with his left hand and as I cut him off as passively as possible (my main goal, I’m thinking, is not to foul), he spins, fumbles slightly, dribbles twice with his right hand and reaches the top of the key at the end of the court we are defending. The whistle blows. Bodiroga pump fakes and I think to myself, "The game is over, but I might as well challenge this shot," and fly by on his fake.
Over my shoulder, I watch his meaningless three-point shot sail cleanly through the net. And now, curiously, the referee throws up both hands and I stare in disbelief as the game is awarded to Panathinaikos. The replay shows conclusively that time expired well before the shot was taken, but in Greece, the referee has no access to replay immediately after the game. I am told that an appeal has been made, but will be denied, as Panathinaikos is one of the two "big" teams which carry the most weight (and money) in our league. I think two things hurt our chances of getting the correct call. One, the buzzer on the one functional scoreboard in our gym does not work, so the scorer’s table is forced to make snap judgments as to the end of quarters, games, etc. And two, it is obvious that the referees involved did not have the necessary amount of testosterone flowing through their bodies that day to stick by the correct call in the face of controversy. And we all know where in the body testosterone is produced.....lolololololol
My brothers Dan and Matt made it to Greece with no trouble. Getting home was a different story, but more on that later. We managed to make it back to Delphi and were duly impressed with the place (me for the second time). Because we had some extra time after exploring the site at Delphi (it closes at 2:45—it’s important for the one person that works there to get his rest) we continued our journey to the coastal town of Galaxadia. We were adventurous enough to try a fish restaurant at random and were served some shrimp that just did not meet our palates’ standards. The shrimp were served whole and a body had to tear each individual animal open to get to the meaty morsel inside, at which point one was faced with, er, removing the shrimp’s digestive system and its contents. Just a little too much work for we simple folk.
Another highlight of their stay was our trips to the beach. We also noted that an alarming percentage of Greek men find the Speedo to be their weapon of choice. I do not know who tells these people, "Yeah, that looks good on you. Really." While my brothers were here, we were overwhelmed with stares, as is always the case when the three of us walk around together. The difference here being that the Greek people, because they have no tact, continue to look long past the normal Kansas gawking. We even had our pictures taken by a couple of groups of tourists. We were hoping it was due to our rakish good looks, but are forced to admit that it was probably our freakish tallness that made us photography-worthy.
Unfortunately, my brothers’ exit from the country was not as easy as their entry, as previously mentioned. The team told me all week that they had ticket reservations for the trip home and that the team simply needed to give me the tickets. As it turned out, the team did not even start looking for the tickets until two days before they were to leave. Surprisingly, on two days notice, there wasn’t much to be found, so my brothers missed an extra day of school in order to hang out in Greece for an extra day (which did allow them to see the previously described Panathinaikos game).
The mess with their return tickets probably would not have been so irking except that: a) the team lied to me for the whole week: and, b) while D & M were here my landlord called twice to tell me that Panionios had not paid the rent and he would be kicking me out if they did not pay within the week: and let’s not forget, c) the team owes me a month and a half of salary at this point. All of this led to a little added stress around my brothers’ return to the US and I have to admit that, going into the Panathanikos game, I was feeling rather unmotivated to put out my best effort, and it showed. Immature? Probably. But I was feeling a little betrayed by the team and that is the way my brain works"..
If you were amused and want more go buy his book for a ton of similar awkward moments...if not, then I dunno what the fck is wrong with you people...reminds me of what my hommie W.H.I.V.S.I.V. told me a couple of weeks ago..after recommending Comedy of the year Superbad to some friends (a couple) he got rebuffed...if you don't know you ain't know I guess...
More funny stuff here:
First, this cute girl pulls a badass hammer on her man, with absolutely no reason at all..Boy, those American girls are something else...funny shit right???
I'm not e regular of Greek TV but yesterday my eye caught a glimpse of an advertisement where the disgusting Γρηγορης Αρναουτογλου was promoting some cell phone company, with yellow and white people following him. Don't get fooled, the concept of this ad is 1 that is being used for ages by Verizon Wireless...Check the video, indeed Greece is the land of copyright infringement..
More on art and its meaning. Guillermo Vargas Habacuc had 2 children catch a dog which then chained and used as “art”. He told everyone not to feed this dog. The dog died in the gallery. This guy calls himself an artist but there is like a zillion of people out there signing petitions to ban him while calling him an animal abuser, a killer, a brutal monster, a sick pervert blah blah blah and mainly NOT an artist. 2 things: First, DON'T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU READ (those who know me the most can acknowledge how I've been saying this quote forever...!). This story was soooo intriguing so having all the tell-tale signs of being an internet hoax, I thought little of it. Then yesterday I got 100! invites to join a Facebook group about a petition to stop the artist from repeating the exhibition. The group had grown 17 0.000 members strong and I started to worry, not for the dog but for my friends who so willingly let themselves be caught by the dragnet of mass suggestion..Why??? For the dog did not starve, nor die. The gallery put out a public statement saying that the dog had been fed throughout the exhibition and had escaped after the first day. The Humane Society validates this on their website: 
