KARAGOZ & HACIVAT

SCENARIO 1
An ex mega developer is suing an ex president  for the sum of 600000.00 euros.


SCENARIO 2
Karagoz and Hacivat were two hilarious characters who were actually construction workers on a mosque in Bursa in the mid-1300s. Their clownish behavior distracted other workers, slowing down construction thus, the ruler of the time had them executed. Their antics were so sorely missed that they were immortalized as the silly puppets in Shadow Theater in Turkey, then in Greece and eventually and inevitably, in Cyprus.



(Imaginary) SCENARIO 3
In steps Hollywood, sniffing big bucks by realizing the potential of merging SCENARIOS 1&2 into
a big budget spectacula (without the "r"). Spot on casting has Forrest Whittaker in the role of the ex president while Eddie Murphy lands the coveted role of the ex mega developer.
Here is an excerpt of the first draft of the screenplay :

ex P :    Wassup* homie*?
ex MD :(angry) I'm suing yo ass* for 6000 benjamins*, that's wassup!
ex P :    (suprised) Why you suing my ass, nigga*?
ex MD: Fixed up yo crib* muthafucka* and you stiffed me!
ex P:     (perplexed) Whatcha on about, nigga? I gave you cash and you wouldn't take it! I made you a    
             playa*, nigga. Gave you jobs, gave you a football club, nigga, and you gone and fucked it all
             up!  
ex MD: I'm bustin' on yo ass, muthafucka. All I got now is dem threads* on me. Yo bitch better be
             payin' up 'cause we ain't straight* no more.
exP:      Fake ass nigga*, what you on about? Like you built a crib for Queen Elisabeth or somethin'?
exMD: Aight*.  Football club my ass! See yo ass in court!

GLOSSARY
Wassup                    : What's up
Homie                      : A friend from back home/own kind
Ass                           : Arse
Benjamins                : $100 bill, as the face of Benjamin Franklin is on the bill
Nigga                       : Negro
Crib                          : House
Muthafucka              : Oedipodean fornication (sort of)
Playa                        : Someone who dates many people or mover and shaker
Threads                    : Clothes
We straight               : All is well
Fake ass nigga          : Pretentious, not the real deal
Aight                        : Allright




Tell me why things don't look the same
In this shadow play
I have to find my way
In this shadow play
I have to get away
From this shadow play


"Shadow Play"             (RORY GALLAGHER)

THE INJUSTICE SYNDROME

Pharmaceutical companies and psychologists, as some of the more dangerous entities and professionals, have been inventing ridiculous "diseases" in order to gain money or give credibility to a profession that maybe, should have not existed in the first place.

* The Attention Deficit Syndrome. That is a good one. Because at that age kids are predominantly    
   having their mind geared towards sex and could care less about which the capital city of Burkina
   Faso is....

* The Sexaholic Syndrome. Well, excuse us for enjoying the most instinctively natural act of human
   behaviour. First you give us the blue pill to correct then another to nullify?

* The Overeating Syndrome. F..k you! Ban chocolates!

The list goes on and on, of course. And they pump gullible people full of pills they don't need in the first place because everybody is different, has different vices and you have to see the beauty in these "flaws" or you are doomed to live a life cloaked in a shroud of fear...

Here's to the losers
Substance abusers
To the rejects
All the imperfects

'Cause I think we're beautiful...



"The Losers"                           (WARRIOR SOUL)




So here is a new syndrome for the consideration of psychologists and pharmaceuticals. The Injustice Syndrome suffered by the somewhat inbred primates of the grand isle of Cyprus. It is so embedded in the DNA of these peoples from the simple primate football fan to the (ex) president. Done wrong by the referee, done wrong by the Investigative Committee, done wrong by God... you name it, the injustice gene is characteristic of the people of this island.
So why not a pill to cure this "disease"? Mind you, it must me multicoloured to match the loudness of these people. What is that you say? It's a small market?

People suck, and that's my contention. I'm tired of this "Aren't
humanity neat?" bulls..t. We're a virus with shoes, OK?

You ever notice that people who believe in creationism look really
unevolved? Eyes real close, big furry hands and feet.
"I believe God created me in one day."
"Yeah, looks like he rushed it..."


                                                      (BILL HICKS)

COMPETITIVE VULTURE CULTURE

It is a silly notion that, to this day, has impregnated the western world with this culture of competition.
Be the best in sport...
Be the best in the classroom...
Be the best in what-have-you...
And keep the prices down (if you grow some hairs on your b***s and fight the Cartels...)
Or, when we were kids, "my dad can beat the s**t out of your dad".

It has become a cutthroat industry. Succeed! Win at any cost!
Whatever happened to the noble and humane "live and let live"?

Stick a needle in, swallow a substantial amount of pills and then go ahead and win the race. Here, take
some more drugs and go on, parade your trophy on TV...


If competition's good for you, is it bad if I wish to wake up, do my job and go about my day?
I'd certainly give up top honours (which I do not have anyway) for a couple of drops of enjoyment and
enlightenment...



Who is the strongest
Who is the best
Who holds the aces
The East or the West
This is the crap our children are learning


"The Tide Is Turning"                   (ROGER WATERS)




Someone tried to sucker me into a conversation re "who is the best vocalist ever, in rock music" the other day. I avoided of course...
There are NO "bests". There are NO "winners". Success cannot be measured by the headlines one creates but by the satisfaction of his/hers creative "libido" (need).
There are no "bests". It is, maybe, experience you carry along that develops your taste. So, opinions differ and believe me competition has nothing to do with it.
So, being true to my accumulated experience, I'd say : "f**k me if I've ever heard anything like the voice of Peter Hammill". It still intrigues me how he explores this most expressive of "instruments".
Jeff Buckley embarked on a similar exploration with undoubted potential before his life was cut short.
Peter Hammill! I'll enjoy this while you parade your trophies...

HEROES AND THE PINK ELEPHANT

Woke up this mornin'.....walked out the room
turned a stone over.....there was a hero there, too

Excuse my amateurish blues tsiattisto (traditional Cypriot rhyming) but I need to keep perspective. I need sanity. I need my spirit NOT to be broken.

No disrespect to the families who lost their loved ones in a blast two years ago but, it seems to me we are the loudest, most sensationalist group of people on this earth. We change the meanings of words at will. I had to go back to the dictionary and look up the word again. No disrespect, but it was a clear
situation of "wrong place, wrong time?". Any way I look at it, it spells VICTIM to me. Innocent victim but still, victim.
Besides, what are the chances of coming across a hero these days in this place...

Reminds me actually of the talking heads on TV :
"TRAGEDY!!! Blood on the asphalt. Another person has tragically died after his car..."
Now, I'm no expert in ancient Greek drama but I'm sure the death of ONE person does NOT a tragedy
constitute.
What next? The animal lovers will hold vigil every time a cat gets run over in the street? Don't get me wrong, I love cats, they're my favourite pets but these f....rs don't look right, left and right again before crossing the street. Not to mention them being too lazy to walk twenty meters down the road and use the bloody zebra crossing...

It used to be every stone you turned on this island there was an alizavra (lizard). But today, only heroes.
"You blind yourself with comfort lies
  Like lightning never strikes you twice
  And we laugh at your amazed surprise
  As the ark begins to sink" wrote Justin Sullivan

no, there are no more heroes, just victims, incompetent fools and loud people...



There are no more hummingbirds
Like there used to be
They're fat and slow and careless now
They turned blue and mean

And the parrots sound like monkeys
Screaming from the trees
As the decent people
Fumble for the keys

"Civilians"                            (Joe Henry)

CYPRIANS OR CYPRIOTS

Lately, I can't be arsed...
But this jewel of an Attorney General is something else...

First, his son is cited by the police for drunk driving. The citation ends up on the Attorney General's
desk. He does what any father would do. He drops the case. And then he appears in front of a camera
supporting his action as if it were the normal thing to do...

Why are we not called Cyprians?

Banana Republic
Septic Isle
Screaming in the suffering sea
Sounds like crying


"Banana Republic"             (THE BOOMTOWN RATS)






Then, our clueless one, appears in front of the Supreme Court to argue a case for the Government against the judges who refused to accept paycuts in these crisis/bankruptcy times.
The verdict of the Supreme Court should have hit him like a ton of lead. The Attorney General's argument was POOR, they said.
Now, if I were him, I'd have gotten the message, went back to my office and picked up my coat...
But, of course, I'm thankfully not him and he's definitely and unfortunately not me...

Ever wonder why we are called Cypriots?


The purple and the pinstripe
Mutely shake their heads
A silence shrieking volumes
A violence more than they condemn


"Banana Republic"                  (THE BOOMTOWN RATS)






Lastly, our hero announced that he will investigate a case NOT because it is his constitutional duty and obligation but because "he has dignity"...
Like, we have to sit around and wait for this dimwit to chase after the badguys whenever his dignity is compromised!
As I've been preaching (hehehe-Father Bob) ,  we cannot go after the officials. They are there by default and we are here but for the grace of God. And I'm not even a believer...
It is this Democratic system that allows for, or better still, breeds these officials and politicians.
I kid you not, IQ tests for all people in office and then, just maybe, I will be arsed to vote again...

Why are we not called Cyprians but Cypriots? One could argue on strong evidence that it is a synthesis of two words. Cyprus and idiots...

Do you remember Dick Tracy?
Do you remember Shane?
Could you see him selling tickets
Where the buzzard circles over
The body on the plain
Did you understand the music YOKO?
Or was it all in vain


5.01 AM (The Pros And Cons Of Hitchhiking)      (ROGER
                                                                                  WATERS)          

NO MOON ON THE WATER

My Tribute To Jason Molina

no moon on the water
the way I'm acting it's no wonder
the blues come
I can't outrun 'em
I ain't foolin' me
I ain't foolin' no one
I have to work hard to suffer alone
I have to work harder to be so alone
don't like half of who I've been
but I've kept my promises to all of them
tie my wings behind my back
cut out my eyes and fill 'em with lead
cut off my head and put the black mules there
trade my heart for a fire
fill my bones with the grey wolf
face me to the shore
give me one reason to live
give me one single reason to live
don't have to be good

Jason Molina had one million songs inside him. Prolific does not do him justice.

Jason Molina battled demons and ghosts within him.

We witnessed these battles with every song he wrote and recorded.

Jason Molina battled himself.

Fragile, vulnerable, tormented, haunted, weak...

A losing battle.

Jason Molina was the most lethal cocktail the music world has ever seen.

One part Nick Drake. One part Townes Van Zandt.

Jason Molina's most preferred lyrical instrument was the moon.

Not the serene moon of tranquillity.

Not the big fat lovers moon.

But a moon that shone its pale light preventing the closure of day.

A moon that prevented the darkness from engulfing the demons.

A moon that haunted every inch of his being.

A moon so sad and relentlessly familiar to Jason.

Each song Jason Molina wrote and sang was a teardrop of the moon.

So, what comes after the the blues, Jason?

An immeasurable loss. Unlike that of Cobain. Unlike that of Buckley.

I just hope you knew you were deeply loved and deeply respected.

Even by the few.

Even by this handful.

It took me the better part of a month to find the courage for this humble tribute.

Humble as your demeanour.

Hubmling as the experience of listening to Jason's music.

I spent night upon night listening to the music this past few days.

I can't remember... was the moon pale when you left?

On that fateful day, didn't it rain?

 

Saints alive

And all the saints be praised

I see them all around me now

They've called and raised

Their jaws gone slack

Their yellow nails long and curling back

To scratch the phantom ache

Of our lost days

Oh, my love is here to stay

"Parker's Mood"                (JOE HENRY)

A GENERATION OF IDIOTS

Whenever people are certain they understand our peculiar situation
here on this planet, it is because they have accepted a religious Faith
or a secular Ideology ( Ideologies are the modern forms of Faiths)
and just stopped thinking.


                                                      (ROBERT ANTON WILSON)




Is this generation of European leaders the most idiotic ever?  Every time Mr Djisellclot opens his mouth
the Euro trembles and the stock markets run for cover. And this intellectually bankrupt character presides over the Eurogroup? I mean, beam me up Scotty, there's no intelligent life left on earth...
This bunch of idiots running Europe have their policies being dictated by the market forces. It doesn't
matter whether you studied at Harvard or Vavatsinia. If you don't have the IQ to handle properly the
information you have wasted your money and your time and, alas, other peoples lives.



Help conquer the IQ shortage less and think more


                                                     (ROBERT ANTON WILSON)






Do you make money for making the Guinness Book of Records? If so, where do we sign up?
In 53 short years we have achieved everything. We had a coup d' etat, a war, lost almost half the country, blew up a power station and became bankrupt.
We are unique, we are one of a kind, where do we sign up?



I could be foreign forever
To your otherland
I could be foreign forevermore
To your promiseland
One life was great
But another...
No, I don't wanna live on the edge
I won't follow you
I found my own
I will stay
"The Depth Of Self-Delusion"                        (RIVERSIDE)