Who drops the bombs?

My favourite Greek journalist and blogger whose new editorial is again impeccably written, once wrote a text entitled 'who drops the bombs' in his old magazine, 01, that was my teenage obsession. I don't remember what that text was about, but it's title always appealed to me. The question is always relevant-who the fuck drop the bombs, in people's lives, in people's minds, in people's hearts?

Sometimes, we do it ourselves: who see a nice little town and we drop a bomb on it. We call things with their names (and not with other, fake, sugarcoated names) and we grab bulls by their horns. We then feel instantly better, empowered and the rest of it, and we then enter the time of indecision-we go back and fourth being sad and happy, angry and calm, empowered and powerless.

Some other times, it is the 'other'-he drops the bombs. The other is a powerful entity, he often has the ability to make one feel helpless and all but the question is: does the 'other' ever drop anything, or is it our own bombs that are dropped again, only by reflection? Nobody has the power to fuck our world-it is only if we leave the window open, it is only then that the bombs will come in.

And finally, sometimes the bombs fall from the sky. It's nobody's fault, it's just that things happened. Unexpectedly, unbelievably, frustratingly, things happened by themselves. Again, is this ever possible? I don't think so.

I think it's always us, that drop the bombs in our lives. Either actively or by keeping open windows or not looking enough at the sky.

I will leave you to ponder about all this, with my new find: Nteibint and his awesome music courtecy of Lifo.

time

Speaking of movies and life... I haven't seen a movie lately without relating it to my life. Big questions like: ''When I am going to meet the man of my destiny as I was promised in all these movies? Where is he? the one who will be waiting for me for so many years and when I say 'Sleep with me', he will just reply 'Absolutely!'
And most and above all, when will I go sailing with him in our own little sailing boat, witnessing all the phases of the moon and discovering our beautiful planet together? Not to mention the road trip to South America, the island hoping in Indonesia, the big Africa tour and the mount trekking in Nepal.. when? when will I do all these things?
I despite movies based on real stories; they just remind me that everything is possible and I am doing nothing. And the most painful thought is that I am running out of time. I somehow got trapped to this Monday-Friday life style when all I wish to do is enjoy life, love, my young body, the sleepless nights. This is my ambition. To go along with time, not just looking at it slipping away. I need to stop watching these movies. I need to stop thinking about time. Time is just to remind me that I only have one chance to live this very second..

Life doesn't move me-just like a movie

This song has always made me feel so strong. It is an amazing combination of seemingly mutually exclusive emotions: angst, sadness, cynicism, anger, indifference and blends them together. On the one hand you have the music which is so strong and so angry and on the other hand there are the lyrics that are so blasé. Who wins?

Life doesn't move me-just like a movie, It doesn't move me-love doesn't move me. Move me! It's like a movie-just like a movie, life doesn't move me.

Fuck off vibes

So, my friend d/a told me about this concept that I found very interesting. The issue has to do with women who are nice, dynamic, successful etc yet they cannot seem to find a man to suit them, accept them and make them happy. (I already realize that this sounds like a cliché, but bear with me, it gets better.) So the question is (the eternal question I would say) why is it so? What do these women do wrong?

And the answer is... they emit fuck off vibes. Their attitudes are like, fuck off, I'm great, I have succeeded by myself all my life, I'm better than you, I don't need you one bit, but do you want to be my boyfriend? I realize that this is a fairly anti-feminist thing to say, but I shall persevere because I think that although it sounds politically incorrect, it might be true at some level.

The answer to this anti-social behaviour is, according to a friend of d/a, daily exercises of 'femininity' of sorts. So, apparently, these kick-ass women, in order to get rid of the hostility they ooze, they need to do daily exercises whereby they ask for something from various men. They can go around asking for help in fixing photo-copying machines, lifts, help with doors, lifting things and other girlie things. They can also go around asking for help with their jobs, help in understanding things etc. They other part of the exercise involves women addressing every potential man they talk to, as 'the one'. In other words, they have to flirt with everyone.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, wtf are you saying that women need to sabotage themselves, undermine themselves in the eyes of men, in order to be accepted by them? Well, that is definitely one way to look at this. But there is another way, no? We can all see it just as indulging men's egos, and nothing else. We don't need to think it's a big deal, it's just an exercise in style, not substance.

Or not?

Candy Marie Candy

I really wanted to write something good for the blog this time, something thought provoking and poignant and stop linking to all these videos. But then I watch too much TV, so it's useless to resist.

This is a video for Comic Relief by Little Britain. It might very well be the best funny clip I've seen for a while.



I really promise to write something poignant soon.

Define me

I saw this 'friends' episode again today (I know I'm a bit obsessed) and it struck me again, how amazing the writing of this series is. It's from the first series, when Phoebe is dating this obnoxious shrink that pisses off everybody. Phoebe confronts him with her friends disliking of him and here is his response.


Phoebe: It's, I mean, it's nothing, I'm fine. It's my friends. They-they have a liking problem with you. In that, um, they don't.

Roger: Oh. They don't.

Phoebe: But they don't see all the wonderfulness that I see. They don't see all the good stuff and all the sweet stuff. They just think you're a little...

Roger: What?

Phoebe: Intense and creepy.

Roger: Oh.

Phoebe: But I don't. Me, Phoebe.

Roger: Well, I'm not I'm not at all surprised they feel that way.

Phoebe: You're not? See, that's why you're so great!

Roger: Actually it's, it's quite, y'know, typical behaviour when you have this kind of dysfunctional group dynamic. Y'know, this kind of co-dependant, emotionally stunted, sitting in your stupid coffee house with your stupid big cups which, I'm sorry, might as well have nipples on them, and you're like all 'Oh, define me! Define me! Love me, I need love!'.

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The important line here being 'define me'. I mean, c'mon, american sitcoms are not meant to be so genius. 'Define me'??? I'm amazed.... (and obsessed)

Blasphemous!

Courtesy of D/a, and still laughing...

Friends

I love friends, i literally love this series. They show it every day on TV and I watch it every day, two episodes a day. And when it finishes, all the brilliant ten years of it, they show it from the beginning and I watch it all over again.

I am never bored with it. I know all the jokes, I remember the lines, I even remember the tone of the actors' voices when they say their lines (Rachel: 'you were asleeeeep?' - true aficionados will remember the one I mean), but I still watch it happily. As a matter of fact, I watch it even more happily when I recognize which episode it's going to be, because this way I know the jokes in advance and I laugh even before the joke comes.

Sometimes I bring lines from friends into every day conversations (my colleague said the other day that she doesn't like ice cream, and I said, yeah ross doesn't like ice cream either). I think I treat the characters in this series, as if they are my friends. I laugh with them, not at them. I do not think that they are brilliant actors, but I think they are great in this series. I think this is one of these magical moments where film actually captures extreme chemistry on screen.

But what I find even more impressive (or depressing, depending on how you see it) is that I am actually touched by their stories. Tonight I saw (I think for the third time now) the last episode. I cried like a little girl with the ross/rachel story all over again. I find everything about them touching and real, although they are the characters of an American sitcom, something that could be the epitome of fakeness.

I guess one can never know where truth might come from, and as we know it can be found in the weirdest of places - like American sitcoms.

She is I

On a sunny Sunday, my alter ego is Lady GaGa.

Firstly, because she shares a first name with my other alter ego, the one you see here: Lady V. I accept that this might be confusing to some, so let me explain myself.

I am I, my name is not important. My alter ego (for the purposes of this blog) is Lady V. But Lady V exists as a separate entity because there are some people (admittedly, very few) who only know Lady V and not me. So the independence of Lady V makes it crucial for her to have an alter ego as well.

And the alter ego of Lady V is Lady GaGa.

I like Lady G (that's her affectionate nickname) because she is cool, theatrical and sexually provocative (as she makes it explicit in her videos, rubbing herself on a plastic sea toys) and in imaginative lyrics like: 'and baby when it's love, if it's not rough, it isn't fun').

So, Lady G for president and yeah, Britney eat our dust.