and
Gavin Harrison is a percussion genius.
Relevantly Irrelevant
and
Gavin Harrison is a percussion genius.
July 10th
I’m sitting on the floor aboard European Express, one of the worst ships of the line that connect Athens with Mytilini. Very few seats, the lounge has some weird round tables that are useless and it’s almost entirely made of huge spaces with lights too bright. Never mind. I’m travelling to Mytilini with a mission.
Get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.
The past few months I’ve been preparing, mentally and practically, for the next big thing in my life. That is my Erasmus. I’d been dreaming of doing it for many years now but this year was my last and best chance since I’m also moving out of the place I’ve called home for the past five years.
So I did pursue it. I sent out requests, I got denied, I meddled with bureaucracy and had my share of incredible stories anyone going through this brutal procedure no doubt have as well. My big thanks to the Aegean University International Office who helped a lot along the way while also tolerating my sluggish ways with filling in applications, agreements, doing this sort of paperwork thing.
In just 14 days now, in the early hours of July 26th, I’m flying to Denmark and I’m going to be living there for the next six months. More specifically I’ll be studying at the department of Information and Media Studies in Aarhus, the second largest city in Denmark. The first few weeks of August I’ll be doing a language and culture course and September will see the beginning of my three courses! I’m so very excited about all the things I’m going to experience and learn there, the different cultures I’ll witness and sink my teeth into, the trips I’m going to make, the sights I will behold, the parts of me I will create and explore all at the same time.
But here I sit, comfortably numb from it all. When changes come creeping closer I never find myself ready to deal with them and flow along as I typically do. In fact, the closer they come, the less active I become. I find myself getting lazier and lazier (and I’m not THAT lazy under normal circumstances) instead of taking advantage of my countdown. I hate it when I do that but it’s very strong with me, for some reason. It’s something I’ve come to call προθανάτιος μηδενισμός in Greek, something you’d call pre-mortem nihilism in English if you’d want to sound especially obnoxious (it sounds obnoxious in Greek too but sometimes the minimum common denominator is not fit for the very truest of verbal expressivenesss). There, I did it again.
That is part of the reason I haven’t written anything about all this until now, the reason I’ve been writing less on here in general. Another reason is that I was afraid of writing this in particular because it is, inevitably, a sort of farewell post. If I’m not good –nay, if I get really nervous, anxious about– at something, it is farewells. Is anyone…?
It’s a farewell post to the five years that changed me from deep inside. The place that was chiefly the background for this change and my coming of age. It has been the equivalent of discovering the New World for myselves. It is a chunk of spacetime, the kind that burns itself into our memories really close to our scent centres, wherne I can say I had the most fun and significant experiences till now. Of course, I met lots of good people during this period some of whom became my friends, others something more, yet others something less. With certain people (I wouldn’t be able to point them all out yet) “Mytilini was the first chapter”. For most, as it happens, it’s also going to be the last chapter. I’m not sure how I feel about that — at least for now.
Now my mission, as stated above, is to push on, pack in and move out of Mytilini in the minimum number of days in order to buy some time to see friends, family and everyone that, if I won’t be seeing for over six months, I’ll miss (in case they don’t visit me in Denmark, of course ~^,) Truth is, I’m not really feeling it. Maybe that’s the reason I’m comfortably numb. It’s the difference between having played a new game for ten minutes and having only read the manual: knowing something and knowing about something…
Who knows? Maybe the empty boxes and the sight of things lying around as they do when a change of residence commands it will kick my ass into (emotional) action. It’s just as possible I’ll only realise the gravity of the impending change when I’m already in Athens, Denmark or somewhere else…
4 days later
After four days of more lazying around and finally “accepting” what lay ahead I did what had to be done. The empty card boxes I gathered from around town I filled with my stuff. Most of it anyway; I’m leaving a lot of things behind, such as cutlery and kitchenware, dead cockroaches and all of my furniture. If I had the time I would have tried to sell it but it seems its destiny is to stay here waiting for the next resident of 1, Lavyrinthou St.
The moving company came this morning and picked everything up to take it to Athens.
After I’m done writing this, I’m packing my remaining stuff, shutting the windows, locking the door and leaving. I never locked the door.
Life after Mytilini:
So it begins…
Πριν λίγες μέρες πήγα στον Roger Waters ο οποίος τίμησε την Αθήνα για άλλη μια φορά με την παρουσία του μετά το 2006 και το Dark Side of the Moon Tour στην Μαλακάσσα (ναι κι εκεί είχα πάει, εξαιρετική συναυλία τότε, ένα Pink Floyd: The Best Of ήταν, λίγο σαν το Echοes ζωντανά! τ^^ Μετά το Live 8 του 2005 φαίνεται ο Waters αποφάσισε, μετά από 20 χρόνια, να διεκδικήσει την θέση του αντιπρόσωπου των Floyd στο σήμερα, εφ’όσον ο Gilmour δεν φαινόταν να ενδιαφέρεται ιδιαίτερα για την δουλειά).
Ας επιστρέψουμε όμως στο παρόν, ή για την ακρίβεια, στο πριν τρεις μέρες. Από την στιγμή που έμαθα ότι θα ερχόταν ο Waters στην Αθήνα για το The Wall είχα μεν ενδιαφερθεί αλλά δεν είχα δείξει τον τεράστιο ενθουσιασμό. Είδικα τους τελευταίους μήνες που έχω ρίξει τα έξοδα μου όσο γίνεται, το εισητήριο των €55 για άνω διάζωμα μου είχε κακοφανεί αρκετά. Κι έτσι, το είχα πάρει ψιλο-απόφαση ότι δεν θα την δω την συναυλία και προσπαθούσα να πείσω τον εαυτό μου ότι δεν με ένοιαζε.
Κι έβλεπα αρκετούς φίλους και γνωστούς να μου λένε «θα πάω Waters!» και να είναι ενθουσιασμένοι. Και να συνεχίζω να λέω «πολύ ακριβό εισιτήριο…» Αφού έμαθα ότι θα κινηματογραφηθεί η συναυλία, απλά είπα «ντάξει, θα το δω στο DVD». Έλεος;
Μέχρι που, τις μέρες που ήμουν Αθήνα, άντε 4-5 μέρες πριν την πρώτη συναυλία, μου έσκασε.
Θα ερχόταν ο Roger Waters στην Αθήνα, θα παρουσίαζε το The Wall με όλη την οπτικοακουστική του παραγωγή, θα έφερνε στο κατόφλι μας την συναυλία που περιμέναμε να δούμε 30 χρόνια (ΟΚ εγώ καμιά 6-7 :P), σε όλο της το μεγαλείο, κι εγώ δεν θα πήγαινα γιατί τσιγκουνευόμουν το εισιτήριο. Δεν είναι ότι δεν είχα τα λεφτά, τα είχα! Κάθονταν στο συρτάρι μου! Απλά περίμενα την κατάλληλη στιγμή για να τα ξοδέψω. Και ξαφνικά κατάλαβα ότι ΜΑΛΛΟΝ (!) περίμεναν αυτήν ακριβώς την ευκαιρία για να δουν το φως του ήλιου. Ευτυχώς ήρθα στα συγκαλά μου και άρχισα αμέσως να ψάχνω για κάποιο φτηνο εισιτήριο online, αφού το φτηνότερο που είχε μείνει από τα επίσημα σημεία πώλησης ήταν στα €97 για το κάτω διάζωμα.
Ευτυχώς επειδή οι συναυλίες ήταν τρεις και έτσι υπήρχε για όλους, κάτι που δεν επέτρεψε στους μαυραγορίτες να βγάλουν χρήματα εις βάρος… αχέμ… αυτών που τα παίρνουν όλα απόφαση τελευταία στιγμή, κατάφερα και βρήκα εισιτήριο για την αρένα €60 (από €65 της προπώλησης) για τις 9/7 στο forum του rocking.gr — και πάλι, ευχαριστώ pandelis79! ^^D
Σκεφτόμουν να πάω μόνος, αλλά τελικά βρέθηκε καλή παρέα (η Έλλη και φίλες της από την Κρήτη που ήταν πολύ φανς!), οπότε εξοπλίστηκα με ένα μπουκάλι τσίπουρο και ξεκίνησα για το κλειστό γήπεδο του μπάσκετ στο ΟΑΚΑ. Στον ηλεκτρικό υπήρχαν πολλοί που φόραγαν μπλούζες The Wall ή άλλες πινκφλοϋντικο-κεντρικές (είδα και μια γαμάτη που είχε έναν Freud βαμμένο ροζ και έγραφε… oh you can figure that one out, can’t you?)
Ο συναυλίακος χώρος μου προκάλεσε πραγματικά δέος. Άλλο πράγμα να απλώνεται όλοκληρο το κλειστό στάδιο πάνω από το κεφάλι σου, κατάλαβα αμέσως γιατί το προτίμησε ο Waters. Και φυσικά, ένα μισοχτισμένο τοίχος μπροστά από την σκηνή…
Πριν αρχίσει η συναυλία, όλα τα φώτα του σταδίου έγιναν κόκκινα και από την σκηνή μας ζήτησαν να κρατήσουμε τις χάρτινες μάσκες που μας είχαν δώσει στην είσοδο στο χέρι και να τις κουνάμε «σαν να είμαστε ωκεανός»… Βέβαια πολλοί την κράταγαν με την λάθος μεριά να βλέπει την σκηνή, οπότε δεν ξέρω τι θα βγει και αν τελικά θα το βάλουν στο DVD. Όπως και να ‘χει, είχε μια αίσθηση «στημένου» αυτό, αν και δεν μπορεί φυσικά να γίνει διαφορετικά! Κατάλαβα ότι όλα τα γαμάτα που μπορεί να βλέπουμε μερικές φορές στα λάιβ DVD να μην είναι τόσο αυθόρμητα! Ήταν ένα κρυφοκοίταγμα στον πραγματικό κόσμο…
Και μετά, άρχισε το υπερθέαμα…
Αυτά που μου έκαναν εντύπωση:
Athens from Roger Waters on Vimeo.
Ένιωσα κι εγώ ότι είχα ένα τοίχος ενώ έβλεπα την συναυλία, ένα τοίχος που δεν μου επέτρεπε να συνειδητοποιήσω που βρισκόμουν. Χανόμουν στην φαντασμαγορία και στην παρέα με την οποία βρισκόμουν. Ειδικά το δεύτερο μέρος τελείωσε σαν αστραπή. Τώρα νιώθω λες και όλα αυτά τα ονειρεύτηκα! Να φταίει άραγε το τσίπουρο, η μπύρα και το κρασί; Ή μήπως απλά όταν είσαι σε κάτι τόσο ανεπανάληπτο, θεαματικό και… τεράστιο, είναι πιο δύσκολο να κοιτάξεις προς τα μέσα γιατί κοιτάζεις προς τα έξω και δεν είσαι έτοιμος για να δεχτείς αυτή την καταροή πληροφορίας, αισθήσεων, αναμνήσεων και επομένως συναισθημάτων; Ίσως να είναι απαραίτητο να τα κλείσεις όλα αυτά απ’έξω, αλλιώς όχι μόνο δεν θα συνειδητοποιείς που βρίσκεσαι, δεν θα το προσέχεις κιόλας…
Περιμένω να απολαύσουμε την συναυλία στο DVD, με όσους ήταν τυχεροί και την είδαν αλλά και όσους δεν την είδαν! Σας περιμένω για να ξαναδούμε την definitive έκδοση του The Wall από εκείνη την ονειρική βραδιά…
Και ένα μικρό δωράκι για το τέλος… θα περίμενε κανείς να το ξανάκαναν για την κινηματογράφηση… αλλά όχι…
Roger Waters & David Gilmour – Comfortably Numb at O2, London, 12/5/2011
…όμως…
Υπερψηφίστηκε το Μεσοπρόθεσμο Πρόγραμμα
Greece crisis: MPs approve drastic austerity measures
Το αρχίσαμε χτες με τον Γκάρετ και την Έλενα μετά από –κλασικά– πίεση του πρώτου (yay they’re in Mytilini!) Δεν ήξερα αν θα μου αρέσει, αλλά τελικά είναι πολύ πάνω από τις προσδοκίες μου…
ΕDIT: Το είδαμε όλο. Καταπληκτική σειρά. Δείτε την οπωσδήποτε αν σας αρέσουν οι δολοπλοκίες, οι απίστευτες ανατροπές, σεξ και αίμα επί της οθόνης και όλα αυτά τα καλά!
Enchanting… Be sure to check the related videos.
I sit for a coffee with friends. Sluuuurp! Up the straw it goes before anyone has even touched their own beverage of choice. It’s worse with alcoholic drinks… I don’t ever seem to realise that when it’s over, it’s over! And I just sip, sip sip the night away. I also eat and smoke faster than most people when in the company of others. It’s only then that comparison with others’ still full plates/glasses is possible and my worried, thoughtful scratching of beard is only natural. My solution? I just steal from the others’ food and drink.
It has happened too many times to count: I’m with a big company at some taverna or place that is suitable for accommodating a number of people in the double digits. Everyone’s having fun, talking vividly and eating more vividly. Then, when everyone’s feeling cheerful, someone, somewhere, utters the words to the first song. And everyone catches on; and everyone sings along; and turn-in-turn everyone butts in with their own favourite Greek words and everyone else follows suit. It’s like that when there’s a live program as well. Guy playing the guitar, singing his songs that everyone knows. It doesn’t take much to take it out of you if you’ve drunk sufficient quantities of alcohol. “All together now!” And we all sing together.
Except me.
These songs… How should I put it. Yes. I might have heard them, I might even remember one or two lyrics just from sheer repetition (this kind of thing happens to me quite often), I usually remember the melody but I can never join the fun. Friends or acquaintances might know every single song by heart but I’m just left there to look around silently trying my best to have a good time but failing miserably, always thinking “wow. This feels so awkward. It sucks.”
Alas, such behaviours never go unnoticed. When everyone’s singing and they catch wind that I am not, they try to encourage me to join them. In the wake of their inevitable failure they look so disappointed in me, so… how should I say. There’s a certain Greek word that roughly translates into “party-pooper” and “killjoy” but lacks any of the playfulness of those two words. It’s kind of a brutal word, now that I think of it. It’s ξενέρωτος. Oh I’ve got that a lot throughout the years. I also get “you don’t know these songs?? You’re not really Greek”. I’ll let the look on my own face by this point to your imagination.
It feels as if knowing about Greek music is such a big part of our culture here that you can’t help not stick out like an alpine fox in the mud if you’ve kept well away from anything that has to do with the domestic musical product for pretty much your entire life. It’s not that I hate Greek music. I want to come to terms with it, explore and discover artists I’m bound to like or already know I like but haven’t bothered looking into more (Pavlos Sidiropoulos, Thanassis Papakonstantinou, Alkinoos Ioannidis, Lavrentis Maheritsas, works by Kavadias turned into songs). Some people in my life have helped me somewhat with discovering and getting to know some Greek music but never decisively and never beyond the realms of satisfying some of my polite curiosity. It’s that it’s polite curiosity at best.
What can I say? Maybe I’m not really Greek after all if I can’t, for the life of me, get into it all. Which is a perfect intro for my next hatred entry:
Some Greeks call me Australian. Some (most?) Australians would call me Greek if I returned to OzzyLand. I’m really both and neither. My national identities sort of negate eachother but at the same time create a completely new existence, like a Yin and a Yang that alone are whole but together are whole-er. This may be the reason I could never exactly or comfortably identify with national ideas except for when I was only little (funny how “nationalist” children can be, or we’ve all been as children).
This open-mindedness by default comes with a cost, however. A multicultural background always helps you break through the wall of deceit but at the same time alienates you from any and all cultures you might have some heritage from including the one you were born in. You start to inhabit your own space in the cultural web, at first as little more than a means to survive but eventually enjoying this uniqueness of yours, weaving your own new threads and connections, keeping the best from both worlds and inevitably creating a new one while you’re at it.
It’s all very nice and postmodern of course but other people look at you suspiciously. You’re one of them but not exactly. Everyone must belong, granted, but you can’t seem to decide whether you belong somewhere or nowhere. An ultimate decision is unlikely. And then there comes a day when you, tired of all this vagueness, ask yourself: why must nationality form the end-all be-all criteria of “belonging” in the first place? Aren’t there more important aspects to a person?
Nationalism might be one of the things I hate the most. I’ve come to hate it so much, so deeply, I find it hard to express myself, to find words that might accurately portray how deep this hatred goes. I’ll try.
To me, nationalism is a bit like football teams (another of the 99 things, can’t be a coincidence). You support an idea or a group of people just because you belong to it. Also called ethnocentricism for us social scientists. ~^, Having a concrete sense of national identity isn’t a bad thing on its own but most usually, just like with football teams and religion for that matter, it comes with denying everyone else’s right to do exactly what you’re doing: love their country above all else. Of course, again just like football teams and religions, nations are so self-centered they believe they are the only ones in the right, that there’s only enough room for none other than themselves at the top. Nations see everyone else as threats, as others, and that alone creates a self-fulfilling prophecy; when everyone sees everyone else as a threat some kind of threat is indeed created out of thin air. Just like when two people want to trust each other but because they’re afraid that the other will not want to comply, they keep to themselves, wholly generating their own image of untrustworthiness. It’s an endless loop.
Most nations have been founded on lies we now take for granted, unshakable truths, but this isn’t the time for me to go into detail on that. I hope you can understand what I mean. Nations have only served to distill fear, isolationism and hatred into people’s hearts. As a concept they encourage people to look for differences among themselves, not similarities, at least as far as inter-national relations are concerned. The similarities that can be found in the people within the borders of the nation-state are imaginary, arbitrary and never well-defined. Naturally, universal truths like love, friendship, global or special (species-al) co-operation are the first to die for the sake of national integrity and identity. It’s not much different than the ridiculous idea of loving your video game console so much you automatically hate, out of fear perhaps, anyone who might love another console. With the difference that people have died, killed others and created complex and perfectly valid — in social terms — historical narratives to support this madness in theory as well as in practice.
It’s everywhere, from the Olympic Games and Eurovision *spit* to wars of the past and lingering ideologies. In the name of your country you might be made to feel like it’s your duty to protect it against aliens and immigrants, secure your cultural traditions and history including religion and language, avoiding to look out to the world, because you were never taught that such a thing might not be such a bad idea after all. It might be dangerous. People out there are bad, they wish nothing more than the downfall of you and your country.
I’ve seen too many people get obsessed with lies about “racial” traits (I’m tired of listening to Greeks think they’re Ancient Greeks or their descendants… SO tired…), looking back and jerking themselves off with their nonsensical grand histories so that they can avoid looking at the awful present and the grim future while still feeling as if they’re something important or special. It enables people to feel good about themselves when they’ve been good for nothing. How can ANYBODY feel special about something they never earned or fought for themselves? I suppose unhappy times call for such sad measures.
If world borders, nation-states’ cornerstones, were torn down tomorrow, it’s probable that great wars would erupt, everyone still with their mind on national interests battling it out for a better place under the sun. A world without borders would require a world without ownership, another can of worms altogether. But in a world with no nations people might eventually discover the beauty of not having to fit in, of not being caged by your parents or what part of the earth you were born in but by what your actions are.
I wish people could feel the airy and open-mind they could have instead of the musty, dark closed-mind they’ve had since forever and take sick pride in.
“I’m going to log-in. I’m going to check my e-mail, see Kalionatis’s site, download the notes, after that I’m going to see Tsekouras’s site and download his notes. Then I’ll do a little bit of Delphi, after that I’ll send some e-mails to my beloved friends and check out Helix’s workcamps; I really want to take part in some of those programs!”…
*Escapist* *Hotmail* *MSN* *Matador* *Cubimension, writing* *Hotmail* *Game 2.0* *XKCD* *Cubimension, reading* *MSN* *Facebook stalking — I KNOW I DON’T HAVE A FACEBOOK!* *Goodreads* *tvtropes* *Wikipedia hopping* *Random site about some random new interest of mine* *Steam offers* *IMDB* *Flickr* *Some porn site* *MSN* *Couchsurfing* *Various interesting blogs* *Youtube* *Looking into all about that new interest of mine* *Grooveshark, discovering new bands I found out about on progarchives.com and allmusic.com* *MSN* *
Dayum… what’s left to re-check and re-re-check?*
What was it that I wanted to do again?
“Oh hi… I’m *insert name here*, pleased to meet you”.
Oh, how many times have people made a bad impression on me just because that first greeting was accompanied by a loose handshake and a fleeting glance? Seriously people. Look at others in the eye when you meet them. Squeeze their palm like you mean it, NOT as if you couldn’t care less. Which is probably true anyway.
“OK I’ll have it ready by then”. But “then” never comes. Being a person of the absolutely utter last minute, that means that I can never get anything done, doesn’t it?
Black screen. Reboot. Black screen. Reboot. BIOS startup holds up at memory testing. CTRL+ALT+DEL, nothing happens. Hard reset. BIOS completes startup, then computer freezes when loading Windows. Hard reset. BIOS startup insists there’s no more than a single core in my dual-core CPU and thus refuses to continue (out of spite?). Hard reset. At last, at some point, Cuberick decides to open his eyes, sweep off his waking grogginess and serve me, more a result of luck than anything.
The funny thing is that when it’s up and running there’s no problem whatsoever. Heh. Maybe it’s like how it’s with cars where you’ve got to get the engine all warmed-up first or something. Hermes knows how on Earth I’ve resisted beating Cuberick to a pulp time after time. Not that it matters. He’s already managed to beat himself to a pulp with no further assistance needed from me.
-“Did you know that blah-blah?”
*where blah-blah, insert your favourite fact you yourself have already read on Wikipedia but know plenty of stuff about it from non-Wiki sources*
-“Yes I did, but it sure doesn’t sound like anything you spent too much time looking into. What you did is you just presumed you’re the more informed of the two of us just because you’ve happened to have read the Wiki page. So, you see, Mr/Ms. Smartass, I’m afraid you’re not the only one around here reading and skimming pages on that site more than necessary”.
Asking further questions usually results in disappointment and less-than-accurate answers. And when it doesn’t, it feels so sterile I can almost smell the Dettol in the air.
I guess it happens everywhere. But my experience from Lesvos has taught me that, if it starts raining, oh, you can be certain that it won’t stop for at least the next few days. If my clothes are caught hanging to dry on their line outside during this humid time, you can foresee the rest. But if I leave them to dry inside, they may well take even longer to reach their rightful place inside by drawer! I recently wanted to wear one of my favourite sweaters. It had been hanging there to dry for at least a week on a drying rack Garret has lent me months now– I doubt he wants it back. I grabbed it, only to find that its hood was still moist! I threw it back to its place in disgust and hatred. Go to hell, humidity.
Power cuts. Ancient game design. Human mistakes. “Retry” instead of “Save”. Forgetting that “this game doesn’t have autosave”. A patch destroying the previous versions savegames. Glitches and Blue Screens Of Death. Blue Screens of Death. Screens of Death.
Death.
Loss of progress in games, you’ve sent many good hours of life’s charms to gaming purgatory, to the nether-realm of human entertainment. You’ve made many a player blind with rage, unable to accept that their efforts and pain have only resulted in a mockingly not-up-to-date version of their save files. You’ve destroyed vast amounts of perfectly good faith in an equally good game, sent it down the drain, never to return, never allowing the player to give the perfectly good game another chance due to pure frustration. It’s the synonym of amnesia for gamers, the very meaning of oblivion.
If I could, loss of progress in games, I would slap you till your cheeks were raw and your voice not fit to cry for help.
…to be continued…
I heard this pretty song on S3E20 of How I Met Your Mother (it’s a fantastic sitcom) and it’s stuck with me. The top-rated comment of the above video reads:
Thumbs up if you pity people who know good music only from shitty sitcoms.
I find this a strange idea. How about you?
*goosebumps*
*misty eyes*
…
ਓ_Ϙ
Another water-themed song. Dedicated to people that stay the same and constantly pass the blame in a million ways…
What can you say?
A million ways to stay the same.
Day after day,
a million ways to pass the blame
You catch me and hold me.
No more fountains, only rain…