tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45008711841228500522024-02-07T02:18:50.659-08:00flush 'dlemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-71750445497733962352019-04-07T02:42:00.000-07:002019-04-07T02:55:49.702-07:00Brexit, UN, EU, and others against my Ass<style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545}
p.p2 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14.0px}
</style>
<br />
<div class="p1">
When certain group of people uses social and conventional media to con their audience and mislead an important decisions made by public vote, and after found guilty on this claim, what makes this decision still legit and valid, why those people not getting banned from their duties? My answer is post-modern democracy, like in art, it is like “anything goes” and that anything is a cocktail of ideologies from far left to far right, mixed with (just-for) profit-driven high-tech boosted practices. And no one in politics seems to in need of a validation of their sanity but allow them under the terms of democracy, and just rejecting everything in order to put their sick ideas, as a proof of their inadequacy of problem solving and rational communication. However, when those concepts taught to people, and if it works, like a trojan horse, then it takes generations to clear that mess. Also when you get in the club of political leaderships, it seems there is no way to be pulled down, no way to be prosecuted nor banned. But you are free to cause thousands of murders, poverty, inaccessibility to any form of basic human rights, inequality, mass extinction, natural disasters and any form of negativity and destruction. But need to say that is only available for the middle and upper class western wealthy families, as you can be murdered any time by anything in the middle east for instance, and very likely by a flying drone with bombs. Or you could be a woman in Arab lands, born to be abused, and not even knew what the hell is going on. Examples are countless, and mainly fed by western arms sold by developed countries! But don't get me wrong, evil is international, exists in every single country. Sorry not sorry but all of your politics is to my ass, unless you are directly addressing demilitarisation, sustainability, freedom of knowledge, for god damn everyone, acceptance and harmony, bloody beaut harmony! In short, as a single word, the one which you afraid most, Anarchy.</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
That word means not chaos, not violence, not war but true opposites; sovereignty, privacy, conscience, equality, freedom and peace. But very sadly that word also means impossible utopia, mainly because of inability of natural selection in humans. Because of rejection of pure goodness but keeping the evil being developed, thought and taught which therefore exists.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<br />lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-32413264366832506422018-08-27T03:04:00.001-07:002019-04-22T02:00:42.276-07:00An adventure of cycling from London to GlasgowSome events occur only after a network of triggers has been formed by a bunch of unobliging reasons. Like a disastrous neurological disease called cluster headache, or in this case, a very much postponed visit to an old friend and her family. In one humid and hot August afternoon, this submerged reminder of an incomplete task finally strengthened enough, by duress of circumstances like bankruptcy, homelessness, and ever increasing desire of fitness. And we've scheduled my visit with Deniz, from 5 days before, fairly enough time to get me there in any case. Panniers quickly prepared for the trip and the journey had started next morning at 6am.<br />
<br />
Preparation<br />
Despite completing another long distance cycling route just a month ago, I was little nervous in the night while fastening the tent to rear rack, which has never used before. Actually I bought that tent two years ago with ambitious fantasies of, again, a long distance cycling. And realising that the time has come was increasing my excitement. I have baked some coconut chickpea cookies and sesame bars to ensure I will survive in a very low budget, all went into bags amongst with spare bike parts, tools and few clothes. Everything seemed ready, went to sofa to sleep, door opened and Sivan came, she kindly accepted to give me two tabs! slept.<br />
<br />
[note: put map with route under every track]<br />
<br />
<b>Day 1, London - Peterborough</b><br />
Left one of my shelters in London, House of Friendship in Stokey, and headed to Lea River. Roads were still wet from last night's rain but sun was also shining. Just a minute after managed to make my first wrong turn and ended up in a close next to the river. Climbed back a not so gentle slope as an early punishment, found the right turn, slid down, I was at the river. After a happy cruise of tens of minutes got lost again around Enfield, decided to use phone's map and it did work a bit. When passed Tonwell cars were already faded away. It seemed <a href="http://www.aukweb.net/el/controls.htm" target="_blank">LEL route</a> from <a href="http://www.aukweb.net/" target="_blank">Audax UK</a> was the right choice. However, I only realised that the Google Maps were doing funny alterations to original tracks from Audax when I ended up at odd places multiple times, like vegetation plants, rivers without passes nor bridges or completely inaccessible, fully secured private roads. Then best thing happened and O2 cut my connection due to unpaid bill. Probably because of being fresh and motivated yet, I didn't mind too much and found my way to pretty town of St Neots, home of the famous chippy the codfather :D, probably most honest and friendly, yet delicious in the country. However, same freshness (or stupidity) couldn't stop me from having facetious ride on M1 from somewhere to Stilton, then gladly pulled myself to Yaxley via Norman Cross. Took a deep breath and asked <a href="https://soundcloud.com/deboraipekel" target="_blank">Deborah</a> via roadside cafe WiFi if she can pay my bill, which she did, therefore this leg dedicated to her. I've arrived Peterborough quite late and sweaty. A pint gulped in a cheeky bar, phone charged, campsite found and I woke up to this.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm30XhdW3ca5Ont2a7gRA2xHQadfm4ZLhwVdvganVmkyUIxWndfG2GKmsUzdjWmFnlfxnryWH7RpcVGB0jEzgI5QKNqdMEBKTZEvBFgn7W3dos0V7PaenXhONuSqEOhgKHtCXMKF4U3d4/s1600/IMG_4166.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm30XhdW3ca5Ont2a7gRA2xHQadfm4ZLhwVdvganVmkyUIxWndfG2GKmsUzdjWmFnlfxnryWH7RpcVGB0jEzgI5QKNqdMEBKTZEvBFgn7W3dos0V7PaenXhONuSqEOhgKHtCXMKF4U3d4/s320/IMG_4166.jpg" width="240" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSg8-nu4GBxIjVqxKv3VK42ZFlcAlr2WkItgwAChBJYr7Ex37zOOTmo-LRzW1DFnJ-nvH1l2fPQOB4HoWC9Bf813y2g2xAFR2YMGrej_Gt9EeaxmJ9lqRkSG3Yove8BLerxf0HZZ-1EI/s1600/IMG_4165.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSg8-nu4GBxIjVqxKv3VK42ZFlcAlr2WkItgwAChBJYr7Ex37zOOTmo-LRzW1DFnJ-nvH1l2fPQOB4HoWC9Bf813y2g2xAFR2YMGrej_Gt9EeaxmJ9lqRkSG3Yove8BLerxf0HZZ-1EI/s320/IMG_4165.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<b>Day 2, Peterborough - Goole</b><br />
First morning in the tent. It was better than I thought. Had a "french bath" with baby wet wipes, ate some food then packed up stuff and left campsite for York (which I would not arrive at the end of the leg). Slowly glided up towards River Nene and it took almost an hour to warm up legs properly. I had my first and worst ever petrol station coffee on the way to Stamford. To be honest, I don't remember to much detail but cute narrow roads between villages until arriving Lincoln. 11th century built grand cathedral and old town was impressive there. Had a lunch at a nice cafe in touristic area and back to roads again. The route was following the canal way and was pleasing enough. Had a nice ride until a cross somewhere I confused again and foolishly got help from Google Maps again, the biggest traitor. Ended up on a very muddy farm field but didn't turn back and kept my loyalty to map until reaching to just a plain grass suggested as a bicycle path by it. That was my way to Goole where I managed to arrive only in the evening, before the rain just started. However, the industrial little town welcomed me warmly as I entered in a pub next to some factory. The scene was not quite something I used to see in London. A stage for bands, couple of bikes siding to wall. A toddler and couple of kids playing around. A topless huge man making jokes in a language I don't understand, and a bartender serving £1.5 pints with a warm smile. They offered me to stay for the night but I insisted to go a natural reserve close by, which was closed when I was there, and turned back to marina near by the pub and camped. That was the Sunday when I woke up, with a bad weather of storm and rain. Checked weather report and saw it will be gone in few hours, procrastinated in the tent for some time and finally decided to move on. Goole gave me two painful insect bites on my both legs which are not full healed yet.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcNyCooje-geS6z4ZES-TPWIMRcXqm1HF3gZnE8o9CmP7wWp65_eZg9xvzfVKDzc3x9cSgPzuHlKHJczn7p8BusYNRB3C3EicNJtffoQ7G8qhqm0WXM1B96Lxe7QJJXf9es2o3-pJC0E/s1600/IMG_4167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcNyCooje-geS6z4ZES-TPWIMRcXqm1HF3gZnE8o9CmP7wWp65_eZg9xvzfVKDzc3x9cSgPzuHlKHJczn7p8BusYNRB3C3EicNJtffoQ7G8qhqm0WXM1B96Lxe7QJJXf9es2o3-pJC0E/s320/IMG_4167.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Google Map's suggested bicycle path near Dutch River.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Day 3, Goole - Yaffort</b><br />
NOTE: Just realising I forgot to finish this post, it's 14/04/2019 today. Not much remembering the journey as before.<br />
I set of from Goole with sour body but thanks to showers I got before reaching York, a beautiful yet posh city, it wasn't that bad the way people looked at me :p It must be the route LEL I was following which gets decorated by sculptures made artists and collectives around the world around the theme of cycling. I must admit that York is really handsome, and in my humble opinion that you must visit there at least once to understand what means being English. However, the roadside corner I slept somewhere near Yaffort was also cute, I'm glad I found it between all that monstrous road work and autobahns.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<b>Day 4, </b><b>Yaffort</b><b> - Dalston</b><br />
Finally getting some real deal. Richmond, is a tiny fair tale hill, beautiful and nice people, cute local events and you the feeling when you talk with people, the education and nicest tone and voice they express. It's like you hear an dense extract of english literature in a tea biscuit. Also extra thankful to young lady who provided me two pocket size mobile phone charging batteries, what later saved me from another lost track and very precious calories. I took one of the tab after a gentle climb towards Yorkshire Dales national park. With beautiful nature, good vibes + bicycle and LSD! you cannot go wrong :) Anyway, few highlights I can remember;<br />
<br />
- Micro hills and descends where other I have joined random other cyclists by the river Svale<br />
- Climbing a monster ascend somewhere before Tan Hill and getting caught a rain, I literally screamed, but the feeling to reaching the top, feeling darn muscles in that way, I'm a new person since then.<br />
- Welcome to Cumbria sign and enormous fun during descend, hoops, and the rain of course =D<br />
<br />
<b>Day 5, Dalston - Glasgow</b><br />
-<br />
Most bleak, straight, grey and hard part of the journey apart from getting soaked in Pert, and spending almost two hours with a big group of disabled students in a pub. Engaged a bracelet making workshop, chatted with many, it was to warm emotionally I didn't wait for rain to stop to leave =D. However, after reaching Carlisle - only god knows how, I do only remember sad faces there around 6am in the morning, people trying to go to work, but industrial burden was like everywhere, even in the air, I couldn't stay there for long, and finally to the road to Glasgow, long and empty, old motor highway turned into bicycle road but without any maintenance, old and hard asphalt, sometimes disappearing, no shop, no coffee, nothing but pure psychic. A true challenge for my level. Smashed =D. If anyone needs a meditation and purification throughout the body and mind, that's the WAY you can do that.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-56084193270664170132017-07-26T12:30:00.002-07:002017-07-26T12:30:41.219-07:00There are some songs, singers, blows, tones and strings of notes which remove you from reality, make you reckless about all surroundings but make you ride your bike day and night till cry or laugh or whatevs but you sit on your ass instead, cause you need to save dat ass first to be able to put it on saddle again.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-72928647589710950342017-07-19T09:56:00.000-07:002017-07-19T09:56:30.296-07:00Sharpest soup ever!<br />
<br />
I didn't think about the benefits or healthiness of this meal before I prepare it. But this one turned into really appetizing yet burst of sharp energy and awakeness. Great surprise hit my head on the way to yoga class (frendliest ever best so far, check neffy's out) and put me to bto every pose with unpredictable power. I can even say the early evening lights if the city, was bright and colorful as you might only see when u r on shrooms or smthing, i guess it might be the odd amiunt of things in this soup. Ok here we go;<br />
<br />
~400gr pistachios<br />
2/3 pack of organic spinach bag from trsco, not sure about tbe grams<br />
Half of organic broccoli, not more than a pint<br />
Handful of curly green organic mother fuckng kale<br />
<br />
Preparation;<br />
Part broc into pieces and start boiling them, in whatever u have<br />
After couple of minutes put kales, put a lit and lower the heat to minimum, cook for shirt time, maybe a 7-8 mins. Maybe shorter things must kept half uncooked.<br />
Remove from the heat, put all the spinach, add damn good pink salt and some freshly ground best black pepper ever it while eating half of the pistachios. Yes you need to eat half of it ehile cooking the soup. Then put the half of the remaining half into soup liquid and blend the shit with hand blender. Do not put any oil nor fat in it as it will ruin the fun of easiness of being total fat free.<br />
<br />
After good blend, drink a bowl. Then if u are lucky that will hit the spot or u just couldn't make it, you little prick.<br />
<br />
Ps: before getting high I also indulged a slice of better thsn sex good badass banana choco wet cake so it probably...lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-39683189930368958122017-07-19T09:55:00.001-07:002017-07-19T09:55:44.912-07:00Roasted aubergine salad NO #4<br />
<br />
Ingredients<br />
1 big organic aubergine<br />
1 tiny organic white onion<br />
1 medium organic green red french heritage tomato<br />
1 Handful of organic flat leaf parsley leafs<br />
1 table spoon good quality cold press olive oil<br />
Half lemon juice<br />
Salt and freshly ground black pepper<br />
<br />
Preparation<br />
Roast the guy, check <a href="http://acidsmiley.blogspot.co.uk/2016/09/roasted-aubergine-salad-no-1.html">#1</a> or <a href="http://acidsmiley.blogspot.co.uk/2016/09/roasted-aubergine-salad-no-2.html">#2</a> if you are not sure what it means. Put the golden juicy interior into a bowl. Peal and chop tomato, add into bowl. Grate the onion and add into bowl. Finely chop parsley leafs and add them too. Mix!. Add rest of the ingredients, seal the bowl and marinade for a day.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-80767737779145018092017-07-19T09:55:00.000-07:002017-07-19T09:55:28.516-07:00Roasted aubergine salad NO #3<br />
<br />
Ingredients<br />
1 small organic aubergine<br />
1 clove of organic garlic<br />
2 shots organic tahini<br />
Half lemon juice<br />
Salt and freshly ground black pepper<br />
<br />
Preparation<br />
Roast the guy, check <a href="http://acidsmiley.blogspot.co.uk/2016/09/roasted-aubergine-salad-no-1.html">#1</a> or <a href="http://acidsmiley.blogspot.co.uk/2016/09/roasted-aubergine-salad-no-2.html">#2</a> if you are not sure what it means. Put the golden juicy interior into a glass jar. Add tahini, lemon juice salt and pepper and super finely chopped garlic. Mix well, close tide with the lid, marinade in the fridge for a day.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-51597105039597879852016-12-29T05:59:00.002-08:002016-12-29T05:59:44.663-08:00Easy but healthy yet tasty lunchGet some organic spinach. Boil a cup of water, put a handful spinach in it, wait ten seconds, remove them, make another bunch, mix with cold pressed olive oil, rock salt, black pepper then grind a little white truffle. Mix and eat.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-48949248635823165052016-09-29T05:40:00.001-07:002016-09-29T05:40:21.350-07:00Roasted aubergine salad NO #2<br />
<br />
Ingredients<br />1 small organic aubergine<br />1 tiny white summer truffle*<br />1 good big fresh porcini mushroom<br />
Good quality cold press olive oil<br />Salt and black pepper<br />
<br />
Preparation<br />
Chop porcini in equal sized pieces as small as your tip of pinky. Heat the saucepan over medium heat and sauté pieces. When they get soften add salt, pepper and olive oil, mix then remove from the heat. Roast the aubergine well on char grill or stove top. Peel the skin, remove the extensive juice. Put clean interior in a bowl. Add mushroom saute form the pan, mix. Grate the tiny but mighty truffle into mix, serve with slices of toasted organic sourdough olive loaf.<br />
<br />
* if you cannot find white truffles you can use truffle butter, ready to use sauce with real truffles or at least truffle oil, but usually oils only contain artificial aromas and prevent you to access the real deal of noble subtle tastes of white truffles.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-77327500883883328312016-09-15T10:22:00.000-07:002016-09-15T10:30:29.497-07:00Roasted aubergine salad NO #1<br />
<br />
Ingredients<br />
1 big organic aubergine<br />
1 good organic pomodoro<br />
Two shots light organic soya sauce<br />
One table spoon sesame seeds<br />
One big old organic garlic clove<br />
Black pepper<br />
<br />
Preparation<br />
Roast the aubergine well on chargrill or stovetop. Peel the skin, care the juice and don't waste it. Put clean interior with juice in a bowl. Poor soya sauce and add sesame seeds. Mix with a knife so it will become more mushy with new aromas. Add evenly and roughly chopped garlic glove, mix with the knife again. Peel the pomodoro, chop it on a plate and add it with the juice. Mix with fork and mash a little. Add good amount of freshly ground black pepper. Seal the bowl and keep it in fridge at least for one hour. Serve in room temperature.<br />
<br />lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-9802922173111160482016-07-03T03:14:00.002-07:002017-01-31T16:34:45.009-08:00There is a colourful parrot, deviating at the edge of waterfall, which makes icy, stealth background with shades from sky. Bird flips backward down into the void, slides on the surface of falling drips. After free falling for a little while, opens its wings, escalates into air. A gentle slope draws a lovely curve to top of the hill, where it perches and cycles this playful dance. Sometimes it's blue, but can be seen in yellow and red too. The game it plays is such adorable enjoyment for me. Wanting to get closer, going, climbing, passing rocks and bushes on a thinest paths, climbing again. Yup, nearly there, it sees me... Okay. I am at the peak now, seeing its belly, inviting beauty of feathers, a white pillow you can surely sleep like babies if you put your head on. It keeps playing. Cooling itself by the wetness of cold water of the mountain in this not annoyingly hot but hot enough to make you lazy and frivolous hot summer day. Watching it is absolute epicurean pleasure. It looks at me, another curve, keeps watching me, one more.<br />
We are together under shades of waterfall, on a small plane of rock. Both of us affectioned by each other. It pushing its head under my arm, hugging, its nib reaching and kisses my chin. Ever changing colours and shapes, now sharp prussian blue and a tiny beak with big black eyes, looking at me.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-72011157993904576612016-05-29T03:22:00.000-07:002016-05-29T03:22:01.274-07:00In the flat I listen to a beach story<br />
it tells a thing heard since childhood<br />
a story now common<br />
the kind of words which make you believe this will be love<br />
<br />
1:52<br />
<br />
A beach story blended with sand and water<br />
in a shell, the sails of a boat<br />
swaying on the edge of the sun<br />
taking away, who knows, our illusions born out of the day before<br />
too often, I’ve been wrecked at sea for not having been able to say<br />
when I should have, with new words,<br />
the sea I was offering to you, for your journeys<br />
<br />
I know waves who slowly roll<br />
weaving algae, wind driven by clouds,<br />
who play the color and paint the music<br />
orchestrating the flowers of an aquatic casino<br />
I give you the ocean<br />
so you can remember<br />
the runs in the wind<br />
we used to do together<br />
hoping for love<br />
to be offshore<br />
<br />
A beach story blended with sand and water<br />
in a shell, the sails of a boat<br />
swaying on the edge of the sun<br />
<br />
1:52<br />
<br />
Surprisingly art and beach histories are not so far apart<br />
irritation, caress<br />
an art history in the making… some rubbings<br />
in a film,<br />
by Carolee Schneemann<br />
<br />
Fuses<br />
she decided to make love, to him<br />
they’re filmed on a west-coast beach<br />
it feels good<br />
it’s not sex for the camera<br />
they decided to do it<br />
it will be a story of caress<br />
waves on the sand<br />
Her ass on it<br />
Him on her<br />
actually her on him<br />
<br />
They do fuck<br />
and…<br />
they’re not unhappy<br />
<br />
If I know that<br />
it’s not because I was there<br />
it’s because I’ve seen the film<br />
besides making love to him on beach<br />
She makes the film<br />
<br />
Carol, at home<br />
on a video tape<br />
She makes<br />
She makes the film<br />
She scratches everything<br />
She works<br />
She scratches the video tape of her sexual relationship<br />
and then there is the cat<br />
as an intrusion<br />
and them, having sex, are caught in that triangle<br />
the woman<br />
the man<br />
and the cat<br />
an intimacy<br />
at home<br />
She fondles him<br />
hard<br />
<br />
Tonight, back at the flat, I watched the film,<br />
and there, naked, I can’t make the difference between him touching her pussy and her touching her cat<br />
<br />
<br />
Georgia René-Worms<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kRs9CetUFfo">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kRs9CetUFfo</a><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-62392574081592852262015-04-27T05:02:00.001-07:002015-04-27T14:15:33.968-07:00<p>Last summer I have read a book called 'bolo bolo' and totally amazed. It is most realistic and doable anarchist proposal I have ever seen. I wish I could write more info about it but I am on my lunch break now, trying to post this piece with my phone on this bloody Monday. So, here comes a little part I like to share with you, which dragged me into more deep shit. xxx.</p>
<h1>The A-Deal: Disappointed at Consumer Society</h1>
<p>What makes up the A-Deal? Steaks, good stereos, surfing, Chivas Regal, Tai—Chi, Acapulco, Nouvelle Cuisine, coke, skiing, exclusive discos, Alfa Romeos. Is this the Machine’s best offer?</p>
<p>But what about those mornings while commuting? That sudden rush of angst, disgust, despair? We try not to face that strange void, but in unoccupied moments between job and consuming, while we are waiting, we realize that time just isn’t ours. The Machine is duly afraid of those moments. So are we. So we’re always kept under tension, kept busy, kept looking forward toward something. Hope itself keeps us in line. In the morning we think of the evening, during the week we dream of the week-end, we sustain everyday life by planning the next vacation from it. In this way we’re immunized agasinst reality, numbed against the loss of our energies.</p>
<p>The A-Deal hasn’t become foul (or better: distinctly fouler) because the quantity or variety of consumer goods is lacking. Mass production has levelled out their quality, and the fascination of their “newness” has definitely disap- peared. Meat has become somehow tasteless, vegetables have grown watery, milk has been transformed into just processed white liquid. TV is deadly dull, driving is no longer pleasurable, neighborhoods are either loud and crowded and unsafe or deserted and unsafe. At the same time, the really good things, like nature, traditions, social relations, cultural identities, intact urban environ- ments, are destroyed. In spite of this huge flood of goods, the quality of life plummets. Our life has been standardized, rationalized, anonymized. They track down and steal from us every unoccupied second, every unused square foot. They offer us — some of us — quick vacations in exotic places thousands of miles away, but in our everyday lives our maneuvering room gets smaller and smaller.</p>
<p>Also for A-workers, work still remains work: loss of energies, stress, nervous tension, ulcers, heart attacks, deadlines, hysterical competition, alcoholism, hierarchical control and abuse. No consumer goods can fill up the holes made by work. Passivity, isolation, inertia, emptiness: these are not cured by new electronics in the apartment, frenzied travel, meditation/relaxation workshops, creativity courses, zipless fucks, pyramid power or drugs. The A-Deal is poison; its revenge comes in depression, cancer, allergies, addiction, mental troubles and suicide. Under the perfect make-up, behind the facade of the “affluent society,” there’s only new forms of human misery.</p>
<p>A lot of thus “privileged” A-workers flee to the countryside, take refuge in sects, try to cheat the Machine with magic, hypnosis, heroin, oriental religions or other illusions of secret power. Desparately they try to get some structure, meaning, and sense back into their lives. But sooner or later the Machine catches its refugees and transforms exactly their forms of rebellion into a new impetus of its own development. “Sense” soon means business sense. ment. “Sense” soon means business sense.</p>
<p>Of course, the A-Deal doesn’t only mean misery. The A-workers have indeed got some undeniable privileges. As a group they’ve got access to all the goods, all the information, all the plans and creative possibilities of the Machine. The A-workers have the chance to use this wealth for themselves, and even against the goals of the Machine, but if they act only as A-workers, their rebellion is always partial and defensive. The Machine learns quickly. Sectorial resistance always means defeat.</p>lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-15573630251804022732014-10-25T00:41:00.001-07:002014-10-25T00:41:12.524-07:00At the stationHere we go again.<br />
<br />
Woke up around 4 am from a silly nightmare. Better than yesterday's cluster headache morning. I was in a fictional train station in Zurich. I was there because travelled there with the most sneaky person I have ever met. But no idea why I have travelled with that lowest of the all lows. Why I didn't let him to go alone. Because I haven't been in Zurich and wanted to see it, I guess. However, of course trouble would find me there, as all in nightmares.<br />
<br />
When he left for his train to nowhere, I decided to go back to London?!? Wait, why? What happened to will to see Zurich, nobody knows. There wasn't ticket machine so went to ticket office. First wanted to speak German, builded up few sentences in my mind but realised that I cannot continue if any unpredictable thing happen. There was a queue there, but I didn't wait too long. When I was in front of the window few little arab girls were annoyingly leaning against me. People were giggling and the cashier wasn't. I have looked my around, there were 5 or six little kids, fully covered in black garments. Turned back to window and said 'Hello, a ticket to London please.' while little arabs squeezing me. Then cashier gave my ticket, I have asked the price and he said 'it is paid' by pointing a little arab girl just next me. I have thanked then kindly rejected that nonsense act and asked again for the price, which costs an arm and leg. If I knew the price I would go with the prepaid one. Then another officer called me from next window. I were in need of new photos for my passport he explained. I didn't questianed myself and accepted. After a while I realised that I have been absolutely unrelated place, in a queue for a coffee or something like that. Saw the ticket office away, was not so far so leaved the queue to get back my ticket and passport.<br />
<br />
Well, I believe my brain just wanted a classic one, so I have missed most recent train 'cause I was waiting at the wrong side of the platform, didn't mind and went to the right but empty one. While waiting thought I should check my passport and the details, then saw the photo on the pass wan't mine, and there were many little photos too. Portraits, bodies, naked bodies, black & whites, polaroids, etc. They were disturbing photos, uncomfortable poses of models, then I woke up.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-49003305083003538572014-08-17T21:44:00.000-07:002014-08-17T21:44:13.971-07:00NightmareA group of young people traveled into a wild nature. They passed giant aqueducts and climbed highest mountains. Finally they reached a place where all of them agreed on to stay and camp. Group split into smaller ones and one of them started to wander around. They saw another camp down at the seafront, where people was swimming with tigers. They did not astonished by that. It was so natural as green leaves or blue sky. When they back, they saw couple of others has started to build a kitchen. But there were a couple of other people who they haven't meet before but they didn't recognise that they are strangers. Their appear didn't disquiet anyone in the group as well.
<br/><br/>
I was in the parked car to get stuff for the kitchen. Things were packed so efficiently and all of them were in glovebox. I got them, put into my pockets, opened the door and it hit a body. I did not see him before opening the door but he was there, I said sorry and he said "that's OK!". We walked back to the camp but there were a small village instead of a camp. There were a stone "street" between wooden bungalows. I went into one of them and it was my room, picked up my iPhone and tweeted something about stone street and village. Went out again and the guy who I hit with car's door pulled me next to others, centre of the street. He shouted to us;
<br/><br/>
- You are under arrest! No one will leave the circle you are standing in!
<br/><br/>
I was shocked! Yelled at him that he cannot keep us like that and he or nobody has rights to do things like that. Response was cruel, a rock solid punch on my face. With this event, that guy and his friend turned into sadist cops. They tortured me for a long time at several parts in the village. They lit sparkler like matches on my skin and burnt my flesh. Another one was plucking off eyelashes. The funny thing was they trounced me while others eating pastries and watching us. They seemed to me that everything were alright with them. There wasn't a circle anymore and I was the only one who's receiving punishment.
<br/><br/>
An evening with warm colours in the sky, all we were in the queue for food. The village has transformed into sort of concentration camp now. Somehow these kind of big transformations were just usual, as in dreaming although it was a nightmare. Last torment came shortly after I saw the pig up to the hill. He ran to me and sprayed me with ozone killer disgusting deodorant. It was full of fake flavours but somewhat astringent. He made a cloud with that spray around me and tried to fire it up. I woke up while running off.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-69248122028659200072014-08-11T17:51:00.000-07:002014-08-11T17:51:08.732-07:00symbols in my fucking last night dream<b>Blood</b><br />
To see blood in your dream represents life, love, and passion as well as disappointments<br /><br />
<b>Bleeding</b><br />
To dream that you are bleeding or losing blood signifies that you are suffering from exhaustion or that you are feeling emotionally drained. It may also denote bitter confrontations between you and your friends. Some of your past actions have come back to haunt you.<br /><br />
<b>Chocolate</b><br />
To see chocolate in your dream signifies love, celebration and self-reward. It also suggests that you may be indulging in too many excesses and need to practice some restraint.<br />
To eat chocolate in your dream indicates that you are embracing your own sensuality.<br /><br />
<b>Ice Cream</b><br />
To see or eat ice cream in your dream denotes good luck, pleasure, success in love and satisfaction with your life. You need to savor the moment and enjoy it. Alternatively, the dream may suggest that you need to cool off and not let your temper get out of hand. On the other hand, the ice cream may be a pun on "I scream". Perhaps there is something that you need to let out.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0London E2 6AH, UK51.5265627 -0.06520760000000791551.5259452 -0.066468100000007913 51.5271802 -0.063947100000007917tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-84522886846824008832012-11-02T14:12:00.001-07:002012-11-03T02:15:57.530-07:00Hararetkırlık yerin tekinde<br />
ayaklarım sarhos, yesim cimenleri cigner<br />
cig taslarda, ara sira sılgın bi su, bi basparmagı camurda<br />
altta olan bitenden habersiz<br />
kafam<br />
delirmis sinek gibi vızıldar<br />
viz oraya viz buraya<br />
<br />
yatmısım<br />
ordan uzakta yatagımda<br />
acik karanlikta terli, kapalı gunden beri<br />
ızım kuru, sabırsız<br />
ustte kopekler uzuyor, batiyor alttakine<br />
akiyor ip gibi<br />
kipkirmizi<br />
girtlagimdan iceri,<br />
doyuyorum susadigim kana<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.5073346 -0.127683151.3492066 -0.4435401 51.6654626 0.1881739tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-25871108796904603752011-12-15T15:30:00.000-08:002012-11-03T02:14:54.481-07:00ortalikta goremiyorum gulen suratlari, bahsettigim "smiley"ler, sari siyah kocaman gulumseyen onlar. ortalikta goremiyorum merhaba diyenler, gunaydin diyenler. yavas yavas calismaya basliyor aklim, bedenim guc kazaniyor git gide, komadan kalkan gazi gibiyim, siska, ac, bos.lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-40592743190755507022011-07-24T12:41:00.000-07:002011-07-24T12:42:20.344-07:00En yakin mesafeEn yakin mesafe ne Yanimdir<p>Ne Arkam<p>Ne Icim<br>Ne Disim,<p>Ne sigaradir tablada yanan...<br>En yakin mesafe iki yalco arasindaki mesafedir birbirini<br>anlayan......<p>Erkin Goren' elemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-34220341874332219712011-07-21T15:42:00.001-07:002011-07-21T15:42:01.773-07:00Ucuz iphone 4Gonlume geldi mi kanarya<br />
Bulamazsam kalemi o anda<br />
Aylarca uzulur selimim<br />
Diyecegini unutunca<br />
<br />
Buda boyle degildi zaten<br />
Dilimde bir tad acibademlemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-40801545471620457522011-07-21T15:39:00.001-07:002011-07-21T15:39:01.858-07:00Ucuz iphone 3Maskesi dustu soytarinin<br />
Aslan disler alevden bir yele<br />
Kosturuyor sel sarhos<br />
Beton bir coldelemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-3142479462164310502011-07-21T15:37:00.000-07:002011-07-21T15:37:17.115-07:00Ucuz iphone 2Soylemez agzin ne hissettigini<br />
Ah bilmez ne ettigini<br />
Bohcasini bagladi koylu guzeli<br />
Ayagina batti devedikeni<br />
Donmedi yolundan diretti<br />
<br />
Yarisinda yolun eskiya<br />
Vurdu guzelin kismetini<br />
Hoyrat sapa daglarda<br />
Okudum hayyami gazetede<br />
Bundandir bu kafiye<br />
Dizelere isleyen<br />
<br />
Bodrum cesme gumussuyu<br />
Guzel buldu yolunu<br />
Vardim istanbula yalnizim<br />
Haydi isimize bakalim<br />
<br />
Hoppaa!lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-25687536008277326882011-07-21T15:35:00.000-07:002011-07-21T15:35:06.325-07:00Ucuz iphone 1Sari siyah derin mavi<br />
Nedir bu gonlumun kederi<br />
<br />
An gelir nur yuzun beter<br />
Gozukur bos siseden<br />
<br />
Ne siktiysa alay olsun<br />
Ask ile hepsi gecer<br />
<br />
Ben boyle gezdikce ne bu soz<br />
Ne de sevda biterlemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-43872267580610023692011-05-04T23:59:00.000-07:002011-05-05T02:55:41.970-07:00buddha ve bobic tepilerine oyle bir gem vurdu ki aklin kifayetsiz kaldigi, bir insanin yaratabilecegi en asiri sinsilikte var olan o hayvan, urkeklik olarak aciklanamayacak bir tiksintiyle karanliga dogru kacti. hic birimiz o nun gercekten bizi sevip sevmedigini anlamadik. ama bu ilk sefer olmamisti ve biz ikinci ve daha sonraki seferlerde de anlamayarak; nasil bir seyi anlamamak icin zihnimizi bloke ettigimizi etrafimizda ki akilli insanlara gostererek, rezil olmustuk. iclerinden doktor veya yazar oldugunu sandigim bir kadin - aslinda bu kaniya sadece dis gorunusunden vardim - `soyunun!` diye seslendi. elime nasil geldigini anlamadigim bir elektro gitarla ciril ciplak onlarin ortasindaydim ve beraberimde gelen grup coktan uzamisti. pat! tilly' nin yumusak sesiyle uyandim. benimle tatli bir sohbeti surduruyordu, gunessiz serin bir sabahta hafif sik bir cafede `croissant` ve orman meyvelerinden olusucak olan kahvaltimizin finli garson tarafindan onumuze konmasini bekliyorduk. tilly `tamam birde sunu dinle, birkac gun once fromm'un bir kitabinda okudum` diyerek sut gibi sesini kulagimdan iceri akitarak tekrar beni bir hayale daldirdi.<br />
<br />
zamanin birinde, bir mango agacinin dibinde oturan tavsan orada uyuya kalmis. birdenbire, buyuk bir gurultu isiterek uyanmis. dunyanin sonunun geldigini sanarak kosmaya baslamis. onun panik icinde kostugunu goren diger tavsanlar, `niye boyle simsek gibi kosuyorsun?` diye sormuslar. O da `kiyamet kopuyor` diye yanitlamis. bunu isiten butun tavsanlar onunla birlikte kacmaya baslamis. tavsanlarin kostugunu goren geyikler, `niye boyle simsek gibi kosuyorsunuz?` diye sormuslar. tavsanlarda `kosuyoruz cunku dunyanin sonu geldi` demisler. bunun uzerine, geyiklerde onlara katilip kacmaya baslamislar. sonunda butun hayvan alemi panik icinde kacismaya baslamis, neredeyse birbirlerini ezip yok edeceklermis. o zamanlar bilge bir kisi olarak var olan buddha butun hayvanlarin kacistigini gorunce en son katilan gruba nicin kactiklarini sormus. `dunyanin sonu geldide ondan` diye yanit vermisler. `bu dogru olamaz` demis buddha. `dunyanin sonu gelmedi, neden boyle bir dusunceye kapildiklarini anlayalim bakalim.` sonra, tek tek hayvan turlerine sorarak bu soylentinin geyiklere ve en son tavsanlara uzandigini anlamis. bu soylentiyi hangi tavsanin cikardigini sormus, tavsanlar o tavsani gosterince buddha o tavsana donerek `dunyanin sonunun geldigini sandigin zaman neredeydin ve ne yapiyordun?` diye sormus. tavsan `bir mango agacinin altinda uyuyordum` diye yanit verince `belkide yere dusen bir mango meyvesinin sesini isittin` demis buddha ona. `bu ses seni uyandirdi, korkuya kapildin ve dunyanin sonunun geldigini sandin. haydi altinda uyudugun agacin yanina gidelim ve dediklerimin dogru olup olmadigini anlayalim.` ikisi beraber agacin yanina yurumusler ve tavsanin uyudugu yere dusmus bir mango meyvesi gormusler. boylelikle buddha hayvanlar alemini yok olmaktan kurtarmis.*<br />
<br />
gozlerimin icine bakmaya devam etti, bense neden ikimizin arasinda halen anlasilamayan seyler oldugunu anlamaya calisiyordum. bir cok kereler konustugumuz sorunlari bir turlu cozemeyisimiz mutlu oldugumuz anlarda unutuluyor sonra tekrar tekrar patlayiveriyordu. anlattigi hikaye cok hosuma gitmisti fakat onumdeki kahvenin ustundeki krema gibi, dibe inemiyor beyaz ve yagli bir halde yuzeyde kaliyordum. sanki tum ogrendiklerimiz birisine hava atmak icin bilmek zorunda oldugumuz seylerdi. bu birisi kendimiz de olabilirdik. bana anlattigi hikayelerin yansimalarini ikimizin arasindaki yasantida hic goremiyordum. ikimizde kendi isimizle mesgul daha mutlu bir yasam arayisinda gibiydik. fakat ortada isbirlikci bir olgu yoktu. canim sikilmisti, o an masadan kalkip onunla kafenin arka kapisinda duran iki kamyonetin arasinda sevismek istedim. icine dustugumuz cikmazin tek cikis yolu buymus gibi geliyordu. asiri bir hareketin, yuklu bir duygusal iletisimin, simgelerin dilimi sarisinin etkilerine ihtiyac duyuyordum. ona inanmamin tek yolu sanki buydu. gulumseyerek `ama boboo,` dedi. ve ben aklimin yanliz olmadigim zaman ne kadar caresiz ve yanlizken ne kadar engin bir mutluluk kaynagi oldugu ayirdina vardim.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*hikayenin daha derin bir analizi icin bakabilirsiniz >> Erich Fromm, Psychoanalysis and Religion (1950) ISBN 978-0300000894lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-29886008380016573022011-05-02T23:30:00.000-07:002011-05-03T01:01:01.952-07:00gezilerOlympos' da kendini yasama birakmaktan, hayatin kendisi olmaktan daha kolayi yoktur. Kafanizi kaldirip ta bir dagin yamacindan yukari bakin. Tasin ve ruzgarin ritmi yasam sarkisinin temposunu tutmaya baslar. Hicbir neyzen hicbir kavali ruzgarin agaclari caldigi gibi calamaz. Yaninizdan bir an olsun ayrilmayan dostunuz dereye kulak verin. Suyun sesi bir kulaginizdan girip otekinden cikarken hipotalamusda baslayan bir hareket size ruhen ve bedenen temizlendiginizi dusundurur.Bu su doganin tum sevgisini icinizden gecebilir kilar. Kelebeklerin heyecanina kapilirsiniz. Onlarin pesinde en yuksek tepelerde bulursunuz kendinizi. Tirtillara yol vermek ve dikenli sarmasiklarla iyi gecinmek sizin gibi kibar birisini hic zorlamaz. Aklinizla hissedip duygularinizla ogrenirsiniz. Bahcelerden cikipta sehrin icine indiginizde kultur ve zevk hayalgucunuzden fiskirir. Antik tiyatroda takilip roma hamaminda ozel dakikalar gecirirsiniz. <br /><br />Tarih cevreye agir bir koku gibi sinmistir. Algimiz onu bir bilim olarak degil Olympos mutfagina oz bir yemek zanneder. Lokma lokma yemeye baslariz. Masada kimler yoktur ki, Herodotus' tan Iskender' e (Buyuk), likyali krallar ve cariyelerden Cicero' ya, suruyle korsan, roman, barbar, helen, misirli ordadir. M.O 1250' den baslayarak 2500 yillik bir aralikta paylasilan guzellikeri ve yasanan kotulukleri, Olympos' un nasil canli bir sehirden bugunku haline donusumunu anlatirlar.<br /><br />Ceneviz kalesi yolunda fransizlara takilip kaya tirmanisi yapabilicekken, ingiliz ve amerikalilarla sahile inmeyi tercih edebilirsiniz. Acik plajin hemen saginda kalenin asagisinda buldugunuz bu yari gizli yer sizi gerceklige dondurur. Denize girmenizle giyinikmisiniz ciplakmisiniz ordamisiniz degilmisiniz tekrar hersey unutulur. Sifir halde, bebek bir balik gibi suda oynamanin nesesi dolar. Oksijen atomlari yuzunuzden girer, gecer ve saclarinizin ucundan cikar. Suyun 5 metre altinda bile bu gidiklamayi hissedebilirsiniz.<br /><br />Aksam ustu, sahilden vadinin icine dogru portakal suyunuzu icmeye giderken turklerin bagrismalarindan sikilirsaniz ya da onlarin garip oyunlarina adapte olamiyorsaniz dert etmeyin, yuksek ihtimalle hos sohbet alman bir aile, insani yetenekleri ve guzellikleriyle sizi rahatlaticaklardir.<br /><br />olympostan baris, saglik, nese, akil ve mutluluk<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGEBq6gnS03QuXQhS9JqBdrB57li54wkZJ490i2X20f3PWYTozTQNWcqpiE893DpwpHvBpjLC43ZuW7QvA4VdqHaASZVxHufUtkAl3-BSe7dYOH9I1zBiNbXjHtf7xMo1h8pmPQVO4cQ/s1600/IMG_0082.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGEBq6gnS03QuXQhS9JqBdrB57li54wkZJ490i2X20f3PWYTozTQNWcqpiE893DpwpHvBpjLC43ZuW7QvA4VdqHaASZVxHufUtkAl3-BSe7dYOH9I1zBiNbXjHtf7xMo1h8pmPQVO4cQ/s400/IMG_0082.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602396059518598130" /></a>lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500871184122850052.post-39412643483503107322011-01-14T09:15:00.000-08:002012-11-03T02:47:41.807-07:00dark matter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://dasistbobo.com/content/5.pieces/1.cacikci-elmasi/04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://dasistbobo.com/content/5.pieces/1.cacikci-elmasi/04.jpg" width="199" /></a></div>
so, i'm back to the studio :F check it out new <a href="http://dasistbobo.com/pieces/cacikci-elmasi/" target="_blank">dark matter duo</a> at <a href="http://dasistbobo.com/">dasistbobo</a>lemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839026803672292395noreply@blogger.com0