Yesterday, after the continued insistence of various different people I would not have in my mind otherwise associated with each other, I listened to Goat for the first time.
What was putting me off? My best understanding is that it must have been something in the band’s name–the only clue I’d been given–that made me believe their music would be dark and difficult to get into, the diametrically opposite genre to easy-listening, if you will (yeah, Steven Wilson is just sooo easy-listening!)
Further, it might have been my tainted inner workings, inevitably influenced by popular associations of poor caprids on the one hand with satans, plenty of blackness and a certain admiration of evil for roughly the same reason the dark side is generally considered to be cooler, and on the other with… I dunno, ridiculousness? Goats seem to be close to rivalling cats on the internet, only with twice the foolhardiness and much less than half the self-consciousness.
Anyway, turns out not only are Goat not dark or complex in that sense, their work is an absolute celebration of life and joy. No reverse psychology in this name, no irony, no references to darkness. Goat, plain and simple. Foolhardy, unconscious Goat.
I hope they play in Athens again soon.
PS: The more I listen to the climax, the more it reminds me of Festival by Sigur Rós. And that’s good. Very good. Must be a Nordic thing.
I can’t remember for how long it’s been a dream of mine to see the Northern Lights. To be overwhelmed by their sheer other-worldliness, to lose myself in this phantasmagoria, the proof that magic is nothing supernatural, nothing more “super” than nature at its very best.
This dream of mine was never closer to being fulfilled than now. From the moment I learned that I would be coming to Denmark I started planning my Great Pilgrimage to Hyperborea. The cheapest, if by far the most time-consuming, way to get as close to the Arctic Circle as possible was, I soon found out, to InterRail all the way up from Denmark to Northern Norway. It was not hard to find two other people that shared my dream and felt like joining me. These are some of our stories, of three travellers hungry for adventure, out to see the magic of the world and finding it. Even if not exactly as we expected it when we first set off…
Ana and me woke up early on the 13th day of October. We had a train to catch — the first of many. We packed our bags full of food like bread, carrots, apples, La Vache Qui Rit-type cheese, baked beans… we had heard legends of people going to Norway and dying of starvation because supermarkets were too expensive. We definitely did not want to suffer the same fate. After we made sure that our bags would weigh less than half as much on our way back, we set off. We saw the sun rise over the lazy cow-dotted plains of Jutland, passed to Fyn and before we knew it we had already crossed Zealand and were in Copenhagen Central Station. This was our rendezvous point with Cedric. We didn’t have difficulty spotting him coming out from the train from Hamburg, he was sporting a backpack almost one and a half times larger than my own. If my own bag contained roughly equal parts clothes and food, Cedric’s was almost bursting at the seems from the weight of several tins of ravioli, bottles of wine and beer. We would soon be very thankful he had been extra mindful when it came to food… And so it began.
What will stay with me from this trip:
• We did not see the Northern Lights. Mission failed. All of our nights north of the Arctic Circle were beautifully overcast. But even if they hadn’t been, people told us that it wasn’t a good time of the year to see them. “The aurora is at its most impressive after a big drop in temperature… The best time is in January or February, when it’s really cold and there aren’t so many clouds”. Then why do so many sites say that October is a good time? As far as the Lights go, this is indeed our theme song for the trip.
Play us off Keyboard Cat!
• Cedric’s cool. Riding from Malmö to Göteborg, the city in which, in a parallel universe, we would have changed trains for Oslo, Cedric realised that something was missing from his otherwise stuffed backpack. It was his wallet. Of all places, it had to be Sweden where we would find our pick-pocket. How many of us think of Sweden when we hear about pick-pocketing? I’m beginning to get tired of Nordic nimble fingers. Of course we couldn’t just leave Göteborg and ride into the unknown before Cedric had exhausted all possibilities regarding the whereabouts of his wallet and, most importantly, its contents. He had lost his money, his bank card and his ID. What would you, dear reader, do if this had happened to you on the first day of a long-awaited trip? Ana and I agreed that, for one, we would be freaking out badly. Cedric, however, kept his characteristic cool during all stages of grief. “I’ll get by, I’ll survive. I’m just annoyed that we had to miss the train to Oslo and our plans got messed up”. The next day, in Oslo, when the German embassy told him that at least he could take the next train back home, he didn’t hesitate even for a minute to follow us through. Again, “what’s the worst thing they can do to me? At most they’ll just send me back to Germany. It’s where I’m going eventually anyway.”
• Jan. He was our host in Bodø, the small town we stayed the longest in Norway. He took us to lots of very Norwegian places around the town in his car (including Saltstraumen, even though it was at high tide and wasn’t at all impressive), showed us some new for us electronic music (he was a big fan!) and some documentaries about Life, the Universe and Everything with him, one of them he had made himself. W even talked a little bit about video games.
He helped us a lot by taking us to Fauske where we begun our…
• Hitch-hiking. On the 5th day, we had to hitch-hike from Fauske to Narvik (οur CouchHost Jan was so good as to drive us from Bodø to Fauske. In retrospect, if he hadn’t done so we might not have made it through to Narvik at all). With good spirits we prepared our cardboard sign. On one side it read “NARVIK” and on the other “N↑”. For hours we tried and tried on the side of the E6, aka the Arctic Highway — a name that makes it sound much more majestic than it really is. We jumped around at incoming cars, thumbs outstretched, our best smiles as bright as tiny flashlights in the afternoon light.
Tens, hundreds of cars passed us by, few drivers gave us any kind of sign, let alone stopped. Later, we realised that the reason was probably because no-one wanted, or had enough space to carry three extra passengers. We were in the middle of nowhere, 100klm north of the Arctic Circle, moose crossing signs around us, Narvik was 250klm away. Disappointment set in. We began to make our way back to Fauske where we would make our way back to Bodø by train, our ultimate Plan B. And then the unexpected, the unreal happened. A car stopped in front of us after we had already started walking back. A big man in a blue sweater came out.
“Do you want to go to Narvik?”
“Yes!”, I said. This was strange. We were going to the opposite direction, with Narvik facing our backsides and already half-empty backpacks. How did he know that we wanted to go there?
“We will take you there. We will take you to Narvik!”
I froze. I did not know what to make of it. These two people — this man and his wife — were obviously not going to Narvik. However, they wanted to make a detour, a 10-hour one both ways at that, to help us out. In my mind appeared a pair of scales. Weighing down the one side was fear, disbelief, the kind of feeling that would never let you hitch-hike, the feeling people transmit to you when they tell you that in every CouchSurfer lies a hidden serial killer just waiting to kill you in the most tortuous of ways; on the other side there was trust, willingness, adventure, the sense that everything can happen if you just give it a chance. It didn’t take long at all for the latter side to win this recurring internal battle.
Enter Lisbeth and Finn-Ove. They saw us trying to hitch a ride while they were going back home after shopping. “I feel sorry for them”, said Finn-Ove. “How sorry?”, asked Lisbeth. They turned around, picked us up, filled the tanks in Fauske and stopped home to leave the stuff they had just bought before setting out for the road trip. What they had just went out to shop were huge boxes of kitty litter. Turned out that Lisbeth and Finn-Ove are professional cat-breeders. My cat-loving side went a little awry at the thought (mind: it’s the same side that feeds my distaste for small dogs) but once I saw the care they put into their pocket felines, my heart melted. Their house was situated in a small Norwegian village under craggy mountains, over delicious fjords and next to deep forest that serves as a home for curious moose… AND a houseful of beautiful and tame cats, a large home cinema and a fresh box-set of Star Wars in Blu-ray (Finn-Ove’s been a fan “ever since he saw the films on Norwegian TV”). What else might a man want?
The next five hours we spent in their car, talking about life, hitch-hiking, cats and their group hierarchy (“fertile females are the leaders”), Star Wars and Norway while outside the windows, fantastic mountains, forests and fjords (and a few moose we stopped to see) were being greeted by the Arctic October dusk that slowly but surely painted the skies black…
Finn-Ove and Lisbeth saved us out of nowhere. We hitched a ride with them for over 250klm of Norwegian countryside. They were an inspiration and a delight to meet and helped me add another experience to fight my fearful and cynic side, a much-needed one: semi long-distance hitch-hiking.
• Betty and her Brain Balancing. Day 7 found us in Stockholm. As usual, nowhere to stay, hey, at least we had a train station to fall back to if all else failed, or at least we hoped that a train station in a capital city would stay open through the night. We sent out an SOS to the world, aka a Last Minute CouchRequest. And voila, one hour later Betty sent us a message telling us she can host us. Off we went to meet this lady that was to be our host in Stockholm, a city which from the two nights we spent there I can say that I loved. It’s a city made of bridges connecting its many islands, with parks and cliffs right next to the river/lake/sea in between. And would you imagine? We saw deer grazing in Betty’s backyard in the morning. Stockholm: breath-taking to walk around in, both at night and during the day.
Back to Betty. Born in Sweden by Hungarian parents, had a daughter (our age) with a man from The Gambia. And I thought I was a child of multi-culturalism… After a much-needed dinner consisting of bread, butter, raspberry jam and Nugatti (read: Norwegian Nutella, only like 10 times better than Nutella), Betty revealed her current profession to us. She is a Brain Balancer. “A psychologist?”, ready to ask was I, but she was quick to add: “Literally, what I do is balance brains. Every brain is to some extent unbalanced. What I do is let the brain listen to its own brainwaves and correct itself in order to move out of ruts and behavioural vicious cycles that activate in situations of stress and fear. This balancing will not alter your personality whatsoever, just open up your possibilities and allow you to step back from your own behaviour in order to be able to observe and modify it.” She invited us to try it ourselves. There is a system monitoring and recording your brainwaves and playing tones into earphones that create a feedback loop for the brain. It is actually very hard to put into words but from what Betty described and from what I can see it looks like a mighty interesting idea. It might sound completely crazy but if I had the money I would try it (ten 90-minute sessions that should be enough to have a permanent effect carry a price tag of close to €2000). I asked her if there is a way to obtain the same results for free and without the brain balancer. She answered that if I purposefully observe myself in weird or dangerous situations and the way I react in order to first be able to witness behaviours programmed into me (do I freeze or go into fight and flight mode?), with some meditation and inner silence I should be able to create the same effects as brain balancing would. Read more here. The interesting thing is that Betty found about this a few years ago through a CouchSurfer of hers and was obviously thrilled. Before that she was a textile designer. Now we learned about this also through CouchSurfing… Around, goes the world.
• Karlstad and Narvik. Two of the nights in the North we had nowhere to stay. No Couchhosts, no money, nothing. I can tell you this: Sweden and Norway are NOT good places to try your life as a homeless person — even though I think that if you have no home, in Denmark at least, the state provides you with shelter. So, in this respect and for a few hours we were far worse off than any Nordic homeless would be. Train stations locked tight, shops and bars closing early, even MacDonald’s providing only temporary shelter and franchise coffee until midnight. A bit of Cinderella magic there. These town were public spaces that after 11PM became non-spaces… In both cases we were outside until the early hours, walking around the city, having our usual incredibly long, deep and often pointless discussions with Cedric (to Ana’s probable annoyance), playing football with plastic coffee cups or trying to sleep at temperatures very close or under 0 °C. Layering clothes didn’t help much to keep warm, nor did running around on the brightly lit but oh, so cold and inhospitable station platforms — the appearance of a semi-friendly fox in Karlstad station, though, at least cheered us up a lot.
But let me tell you, for all the shivering and biting cold, the moments of salvation more than made up for it. When our train from Karlstad to Oslo arrived, all warm and cozy inside, or when the station master in Narvik opened the doors half an hour earlier than we expected, at 6:30 instead of 7AM… It was happiness, the same kind of lizard-brain happiness you see in your dog’s or cat’s face when they lie curled up at your feet.
In Lizbeth’s and Finn-Ove’s car, I told Cedric: “When we get to Narvik, we have nowhere to stay…” -“I know…”, he replied, “I look forward to it.”
• In Oslo, outside the central train station, we asked some police people (how would you call a police man together with a police woman?) where we could find the police station. They kindly drove us there in their police van, putting us in the little cage they have in the trunk reserved for criminals, hand-cuffs and all. We went crazy. Made me want to steal something so that I could travel in this thing again. Guaranteed nice views.
• I had an amazing time with Cedric and Ana. I had never travelled for so long with anyone I had not been romantically involved with before. Many laughs, similar, relaxed and happy attitudes to things going very wrong. It’s true that travelling with people is the ultimate test of friendship and even though I’ve only been friends with these guys a few months I think we passed the test with flying colours.
• Avoid relying on trains if you want to take in the scenery. You will fall asleep more than you would like. You will also read much less than you expect.
• Most of our expenses in this trip were not for food or alcohol, but forcoffee (thank you, Seven Eleven). If you plan to take it cheap (or free), be sure to be able to find or make cheap coffee. We spent €0 on accommodation, if you exclude two of the nights we spent in trains. 5 days of travel in 10 cost us €169 each.
• If you want to go to Scandinavia to drink, you are probably much better off in every way in your own country.
• Catching trains while having a hangover at the same time is very possibly the definition of Not Fun.
• Who’s up for the next travel to Hyperborea? This time to really see the Lights?
This was a book I bought through a 3-for-£5 deal when I was in Dundee last year. It was a £1.6666 very well spent indeed.
Anyone who might have ever owned, lived with or generally loved cats will see so much truth in this little memoire. The very notion that individual animals of certain species possess varying personality traits is something we don’t really acknowledge. We might say “this cat is lazy” or ” How often haven’t we all generalised when talking about “vengeful, selfish” cats or “trusting, loyal” dogs?
Birmingham, or Brum, is proof that animals can have spectacularly, or should I say, catastrophically different personalities than anything anyone might have ever expected! Brum is so unfeline it’s surprising he’s a cat at all. The list of things this tabby has achieved is not short of extraordinary and even though living with such a cat could be dangerous to everyone involved, I think it would be a remarkably fun experience. I admit I’d pay good money to overhear a Yuki-Brum conversation or just watch them at play. Maybe they should do a Big Brother kind of thing with deviant pets instead of human sociopaths and see what happens!
A Cat Called Birmingham is a very funny book. It gets 4 and not 3 stars just because it made me actually laugh out loud more times than I remember any other book recently doing. Chris Pascoe hits the nail on the head a lot of the time with cats and how they can be such a great source of comedy. In fact, the book made me even more of a cat lover. You may be wondering: is that even possible? I thought it wasn’t; I was wrong. Such awww-inducing personal stories can’t but reinforce any sense of proximity and love there may be between the races of humans and felines.
It seems to me that cats have some kind of weakness to anything that has wings. The moment they see such a bird/insect/toy/thing, they just freeze on the spot and try to devise ways to catch it, no matter how big or small, near or far — in this case, if it’s real or not. To be fair though, cats are the ultimate Modernists: “if I can see it, it must exist!” They can’t seem to be able to wrap their little feline heads around the fact that if something is visible it doesn’t necessarily mean it exists. Not that we humans are much better, come to think of it.
“But qb! It does exist! It’s on the screen, can’t you see?!”
I just hate it when my own self raises stupid but untouchable arguments. Anyway, I wonder what any cat’s reaction would be with one of these:
I believe that I was one of the best customers of the shipping companies this summer. A normal person wouldn’t take more than 4, 5, a maximum of 6 ships during the summer. Not me. Hohoho, not me. Between mid-May and my trips to Athens for supporting Alexandra’s exams effort and mid-August and our return to Mytilini, I travelled in a grand total of 18 ships (not 18 unique ones). My rough estimation is that I spent a total of 156 hours of this time travelling at sea. That’s about a week’s worth of non-stop travelling!
The problem is that greek ships are, well, shippy. I mean shitty. Most of them are old, the new ones are too expensive, the food and drinks on board are ridiculously expensive, they go slower than what they claim to in order to save fuel… They treat passengers as if they’re worthless sheep. Even when some of the crew are trying to be polite, you know that the general company policy is “passengers are sheep, and you are the herders!” It’s just a huge industry of money-thirsty shippers. They are the ones who control the Aegean Sea. I really hate them all. What I hate the most is the spam with which they bomb you on board: the safety messages, the cheesy music (especially ANEK’s, although Hellenic Seaways is epic as fuck! Tan-taaaaaan, tan-tan-taaaaaan…), “passengers wishing to di(n)e are kindly requested to proceed to the self-service restaurant, “due to increased truck, the ship will delay”, I could go on forever! These can be a good source of amusement for the first few trips but after hundreds and hundreds of hours on board it gets kind of… annoying.
Anyway, it’s no wonder I find it ironic when people wish me a good journey before I hop on a boat for the umpteenth time; it’s become a second nature finding a comfy spot, laying my sleeping bag, watching One Piece or reading a book for tens of hours at a time, no matter how shippy the shits are! Oh, the joy of studying 12 hours worth of voyage away from your own, but also your girlfriend’s, home…
Destruction of small neighbouring house
Ever since I was knee-high to a grasshopper, I remember walking by a strange old house on my way to school and the neighbourhood mini-market. I could see this house from the heights of the balcony of my room for many years. It was a nice old abandoned house, with dense foliage and many cats living around. I never really knew if anyone did live there, apart from the cats. The guy owning it supposedly died at some point and his wife moved to another house.
A few months ago, to my great astonishment, mum told me that they had put up a sign in front of the house announcing that the house would be demolished and a brand new block of flats would be built in its place. Right then, I felt as if part of my childhood died.
The actual demolition only started in July. Hammers and bulldozers worked furiously every morning. The noise of course was too much to handle so me and Alex always had the balcony door closed, which led to extreme temperatures building up in my room. Mum warned me that during most demolitions swarms of cockroaches crawl out of the fresh ruins looking for new homes. Not really into the idea of hosting a dozen or ten cockroach clans, we decided that we shouldn’t leave the balcony door open even at night.
This went on for many weeks. Even when we left Athens a few weeks ago, terrible machines were still digging for the foundations. The hole was already abyss-like in depth.
In a few months from now, my once bright room will become dark and gloomy. This new apartment building will block all light coming to the back side. But it’s not only this. When certain things occur, it just hits you that you’ve grown old enough to see the world change. Nea Smyrni has sure changed in the 15 years that I remember it. The Alsos next to our home, the new parking, Nea Smyrni square, the tram… The city has even expanded during my lifetime. Places I remember as being just soil and nothingness (at the borders with Brahami) are now fully urbanised. Nea Smyrni has sure changed.
Recently, I found out that Nea Smyrni was originally meant to remain a lower density suburb. The height of apartment buildings used to be regulated everywhere in the city but along Syggrou Ave. Only after 1974 and the fall of the Junta were the regulations revised. Ever since, the number of small houses has fallen dramatically. I don’t think the surviving ones will be around for much either, unforunately…
Alexandra’s Dream
Quick question: What had Alex been doing the past year? I’ll let you think for a second. Yeeees…
If you haven’t remembered by now, allow me to remind you. She was studying for her Panellinies!
Yes, Panellinies. This little final exam that gets all 17-year-old nervous and their parents broke. This exam that’s stuck somewhere between the Middle Ages and the Paleolithic Age that forces teenagers to decide what they’ll do for a living within a matter of months. This incredible exam that works by somehow making mathematics, greek language and physics only slightly less important than special subjects when calculating points for entry in the university or school of choice. I could go on.
Alex had a strange experience last year. When we met, she was studying German so that she could go to Austria and become a better musician. Apparently though, she had a change of heart somewhere along the road and decided that she did not want to either leave me, her country, (the rest of) her loved ones ;P or all that. To just suddenly go and live abroad for almost 6 years. I agree, that would be a shock, even though shocks can be useful from time to time. All was good then. She didn’t have to leave and we could stay together. Here comes the strange experience though: she realised that she was already 22 and had not lived the life of a student, she hadn’t gone through this magical process of living on her own! Many times before had this change of scene been delayed and her not going to Austria was added to the list. What was she to do?! Oh the horror! I can still remember when we were talking on MSN and she was panicking about her future, or lack thereof, as it seemed at the time at least.
The answer came quickly. She did not have to move out of Greece to receive the musical education of her dreams. A bit of research later and along came Musical Studies Dept, Ionian University, Kerkyra (Corfu… silly name). It sounded like best thing since Geometry Wars. Indeed, all opinions agreed on how it was one of the best, if not the best, musical universities in Greece. The problem? She couldn’t just walk in and start lessons; she had to be admitted. And how do people get admitted to universities in this day and age? Exactly.
Panellinies was the name of the game and Alex was more than willing to play. She even travelled to Kerkyra to see for herself before doing anything rash. Typically, she fell in love with the town and student life. I was slightly depressed at the time; no matter how good and well it is in Mytilini, I will never forget my disappointment when I failed entering Audiovisual Arts in the Ionian University.
All this was around this time last year. Alex did play hard. Harder than I expected. I was telling her “you’re gonna get in, but only just. You’ll be too lazy to get a better score, but not lazy enough to fail”. This year we even met every weekend almost, much more often than last year. She’d have all the excuses in the world to not go very well. But she did. And it was awesome.
In May I watched her as she fought hard for her 6 compulsory subjects: greek, maths, biology (easy and hard mode), physics and chemistry. If you’re wondering what all that has to do with music, well… don’t ask! Her score was a very satisfying 14860, thousands of points above the previous year’s minimum. She hadn’t even begun with her music subjects yet! But that was the catch; one wrong step at that point and all would have been for nought as it’s necessay to have a score greater or equal to 10/20 in both music subjects to get into a university musial dept.
The harmony exam was a breeze, Alex got more than 18 in that one. Dication was a surprisingly cruelexam though. It was plain evil. Girls got out of the exam centres crying, everyone was pessimistic, it was a mess. Alex was on the positive side although not certain and got a 12 finally, thus securing her entry in the uni and ending a few weeks of nervous uncertainty for both of us.
A few weeks ago the official result were announced and as we all expected, Alex is among the people that will be studying Music in Kerkyra starting this year. She’ll probably be getting a laptop too for her superb results!
It’s been a happy story till now. But there is a darker side to it, as the most perceptive of you will have noticed.
Till now, our relationship with Alex has been mostly uncomplicated. I live in Mytilini, she lives in Athens. A big obstacle for some that we jumped over easily. As if it did not even exist. Only rarely has distance ever affected our relationship. Distance can also be refreshing for a relationship. As I said in my previous Plus/Minus, travelling 8-12 hours at a time is manageable, as is travelling twice a month to Athens and back. No big deal, right?
Right! But what about… 24 hours worth of travelling? Starting in a few weeks, Alex will live in Kerkyra. That will be her effective home. Consider this: Mytilini is on the border with Turkey; Kerkyra is on the border with Albania and the western-most island of Greece, only a few hours away from Italy. How will this ground-shaking change affect our relationship?
This past summer I’ve been thinking about all these things. Not just me, of course. Alex has been just as pondersome. This feeling that our days are numbered hung, and still hangs over us, affecting our emotions. The natural response is to try and make use of these remaining days the best way one can. This often backfires… The looming sensation that time is running out often makes one take even less advantage of what time really remains. But maybe it’s because deep down we refuse to believe, no, we refuse to make the “time is running out” a facet of our reality. I still do not feel as if it’s anywhere close to being over. On the contrary.
All that said, how does this imminent change (and its awaiting) strike me, in the end?
: Alexandra’s finally finding her career path. It is the change she’s been waiting for years. She’ll do what she loves most and get even better at it. I can’t even imagine what great music she will compose! She will find new friends in the ultimate artsy-cultural university city in Greece. I am really and sincerely happy, most of all, that she’s getting exactly what she fought for, she’s doing what she dreamed of doing. It is something a lot of us forget to do nowadays. We compromise. We think too much of what people will (or won’t) say or what people will or won’t do as a reaction to our actions. Alex is setting an example. An example of purity of intent. How difficult is it for us people to know exactly what we want to do and be sure that it is exactly what will make us happy? Besides: travelling to Corfu? Count me in!
: The distance between me and Alex will soon double. What will happen between us? Taking for granted that we will keep on seeing eachother no matter what, there are two scenarios within sight:
1. Distance only makes us realise how much in love we are with eachother. Our less frequent meetings are much more intense and we live happily ever after.
2. We’ve thought of giving eachother the freedom to experiment with random people if we so wish (now we’re yound and free etc) while still, in theory at least, remaining a couple. I can already imagine the clusterfucks such a scenario might produce, the jealousy and quarreling… but we will end up together in the end, and we’ll live happily ever after.
Whichever of these 2 scenarios happens, increased solidarity is something that might help me concentrate on my last year on this island and all this might implicate…
: …but it’s all nice and good declaring beforehand that my last year in Mytilini will be be better if I concentrate on Mytilini-centric activities. How can I say that when I’ve been with Alexandra for more than 1.5 years already?! I may not have forgot how it was before her, but I sure don’t know how it’s going to be after her. They say that you only really appreciate something when you’ve lost it…
:…and even if I won’t have lost Alex, it will be harsh. It’s coming closer and closer, and the closer it comes, the harder it hits me. The day I’ll take the ship to Mytilini and she won’t follow me… and knowing that after a few days she’ll be in Kerkyra, in one of the most important moments of her life, and I won’t be there for her… and also knowing that being there would only make it worse for her… but definitely, I don’t wanna think about that day…
OK, OK. That last part was a bit emo. But you can’t help it. Most emos become emos over stuff like this. Now just let me look at the glass half-full again…
I love anniversaries and birthdays. Their meaning transcends human social constructions: they come in intervals of 365 days, the number of days the earth takes to draw a full circle (or eclipse) around the sun and arrive at the same relative spot in space from which it began. So birthdays, anniversaries and other annual events are good opportunities to look back at how things were when the earth’s position was last the same. Just as the circle comes to its closure (and a new one opens every single day).
This time last year, when the summer seemed close and all, something very important happened: a young white felis catus, a.k.a kitten, came into my life. It was a sunny morning. I was walking down the street close to Mousiko Kafeneio, not at all aware of what was about to happen, when I saw Oliva sitting there holding a kitten. It was grey and white. She told me she got it from a veterinarian right next to the post office. I went to have a look and there they were: two white kittens, the one with splashes of black (or was it black with splashes of white?) Myrsini, the vet, told me that someone’s cat had given birth and they’d brought the kittens to her so that she could give them away. Me and Mario did take both away, not sure yet who and if we’d keep them. My initial thought was actually to keep both kitties but Mario offered to adopt one. We paraded up Ermou street, big new expensive cat toilet in hand and kitties on shoulder all the way to Mario’s place. It didn’t take long for Mario to realise that having a kitten around that generally doesn’t know where the right place to poop is was a bit too much. Eventually Mordread tried to keep the B&W one. He couldn’t keep her either though so he returned her to the vet. I, however, had fallen in love with the white one before we had even stepped out of the vet’s.
I remember once telling Ines that if I ever had a white cat, I’d call her Yuki, which is japanese for snow. I’ll admit that I did sit and think about the white kitty’s name for a while but it didn’t take me more than a few hours to naturally start calling the little bright-coloured storm Yuki. I will never forget our first night together. I prepared a nice little bed for her lining my fruit basket with a red shirt and a dirty pair of jeans and invited her to join me into the world of dreams. Though reluctantly, she stepped into the comfy-looking bowl and eventually called it a night. The next morning I woke up and saw her curled up and sleeping peacefully.
All wasn’t well, however. When I said that kittens don’t know where to poop, I really meant it. Yuki was barely 3 months old when I first got her and she couldn’t properly climb into her toilet so a lot of the time she’d just poo and piss wherever. I remember somehow “feeling” that she’d gotta go and I’d promptly pick her up and put her in the toilet. When she would indeed relieve herself, I felt genuinely happy and satisfied with myself. But the first week had a lot of waking up in the middle of the night because Yuki would have a nice case of diarroea under my bed. It seems that during the first week diarroea was the only thing that would come out of her little feline bottom. Thankfully that soon stopped.
One of the hardest decisions I had to take in September when I had her neutered. I was anxious she’d leave and get ran over or something. Or she may have had litters of kitties every few months. I still question my decision when I think that I’ll never see Yuki-kittens or my cat will never have sex, but I guess this is human thinking in the end.
What I really like about my cat is that she’s genuinely good. And I mean good as in lawful good. She’ll never attack out of spite or hate. On the contrary she loves attacking just for fun or when she wants to play. I also love it when she comes and sits in my lap whenever I’m on the computer. She loves climbing to the highest (and often silliest) spot in the apartment. She’s perfect with strangers. When she was little, I often used to leave her care to friends when I was away from home for whatever reason. She’s also grown used to travelling which is always good. Most funnily of all, my little feline lacks any grace cats are generally known for. As we often say with Alex, Yuki has all the elegance of a happy-go-lucky dog. As they say, pets become like their owners…
In the end, I really love my cat. Even one year later and now she’s no longer a kitten but a proud full grown adult cat, even against all odds and expectations from others and even myself that my lifestyle wouldn’t allow taking care of an animal, I can see us maturing together.
Cultural Aspects of Today, CATs for short, is my new way to present and discuss what I read, play, watch, listen to and generally enjoy these days. We are now in the era of Postmodernism according to which, very roughly, anything goes. At the same time the word “culture” can be used to describe a very broad selection of productive human activity just as well as the word “art”: cinema, video games, books, paintings, music, local traditions, Pop Art, High Culture… What falls under which category is not as apparent as it once may have been and the older norms, along with this fact, have all merged into Postmodernism, the movement of blending seams… I’m going to use this to present many different aspects of life, art (controversially or not), knowledge, products and ideas as parts of the Cultural Aspects of Today.
~
Ratatou-E
I watched Wall-E and Ratatouille 2 weeks apart. I first saw Wall-E, which was already hyped by pretty much everybody on IMDB along with a super user rating and a super review from Athinorama (an impressive 4 stars if I remember correctly). I could not help but be intrigued by the futuristic looks and alleged environmentalistic themes. My impressions?
The postapocalyptic backdrop for the first half of the movie was just spectacular. All the different items that Wall-E (the little robot) collects that represent parts of humanity’s cultural heritage were both emotionally powerful and conceptually brilliant. The feeling of solitude this half of the film gives off is noteworthy. The mega-corporation depicted in the movie which is the evolution of the capitalist tendencies of today is wonderfully and poetically pepresented, both by its name and its significance. BNL, Buy N Large.
The second half is not as good. The very subtle comedy of the first half is compromised and the film reverts to a style more similar to other Pixar films. The whole veil of mystery over the supposed future of humanity is lifted and, despite the unexpected plot twist (two words: steering wheel), the ending is very disappointing, destroying any kind of environmentalist tone the rest of the film had. (SPOILERS! READ FURTHER AT OWN RISK: Very “it’s-ok-guys, pollute-as-much-as-you-want-it’s-going-to-be-ok-even-if-it-takes-us-700-years!” Didn’t like that part… Overall, I think it wasn’t as good as hyped although it was enjoyable and had very sweet moments. Wall-E and EVA are perhaps the best robotic couple in the history of animation!
Ratatouille on the other hand… I had heard it was very good from different people but it managed to surpass my already high expectations. It was very funny and the characters were brilliant. Me and Alexandra especially liked the restaurant critic, Anton Ego (word goes around the internet that this guy was actually homosexual. I find that strange but whatever) I personally also liked Emile, Remy’s brother. I felt Ratatouille was very down to earth and appreciative to love for the simple things in life. Made me want to cook and eat the best meal in the world! The ending was very very satisfying and it left us with a very cheery feeling.
I cannot compare the two films. I don’t have the skills necessary and it would be pointless anyway as they are different films with a different goal and a different touch. What I can say though is that Wall-E promised a lot and underdelivered in a memorable and affectionate way while Ratatouille overdelivered in every possible way. Both films remain however as good examples to why Pixar is the leading mainstream 3D animation studio; they still haven’t made a film that I didn’t enjoy.
PS: Pixar are also well known for their shorts and we all love them. “Presto”, “Your Friend The Rat”, “Lifted” are all great recent examples, I recommend you watch them if you haven’t along with the feature films.
Braid/Castle Crashers
Braid and Castle Crashers were the summer’s greatest hits for the now-favourite Xbox Live Arcade service. Two distinct games with different gameplay styles and approaches that however have three things in common: 1) They are 2D. 2) They developed a cult fanbase even before they were released. High levels of anticipation then. 3) They are pricey games indeed.
I had the luck to be able to buy them both close to a month ago. First, Braid. Braid was a novel idea based on the platformer teaching of ye olde. That is, it was like playing a Mario game with some new mechanics. These mechanics took the “platformer” out of its name and turned it into something that’s closer to “puzzle”. Tim, the hero, must collect jigsaw pieces through various levels controlling time and various items and behaviours that manipulate time on their own as well in order to save the “princess”. The result is some very difficult puzzles but a genuine sense of accomplishment. What made the game stand out even more was the very open-to-debate story. What the “princess” is in the end is a very good question, but I won’t spoil it for you! I can’t not mention the jaw-dropping ending, one of the most fitting endings Jonathan Blow could think of! Oh yes, Jonathan Blow is the designer of this game. People call Braid “indie”, cause apart from the game’s art, Blow made the rest of the game all on his own. What is less well known is that it cost him approximately $180,000, production values quite higher than what people would call “indie”. Still, Braid has its own distinct feel and it was well worth the 1200MS Points if only to get to experience such a, how should I put it, classy and rounded game experience.
Castle Crashers is a lot different. Developed by The Behemoth (by Newgrounds.com creator Tom Fulp and flash artist Dan Paladin) and a lot more of course hit the gaming scene as a tribute to old 16-bit beat-em-ups set in fantasty settings, complete with knights, dragons, princesses, magic etc. I hear it’s very similar to Golden Axe but I haven’t personally played the game. Castle Crashers has excellent 2-D graphics (which just like the developer’s previous game, Alien Hominid, want to give off the Flash game feeling), cheery and sometimes hilarious humour and some addictive hack & slash gameplay, especially multiplayer. I’ve lost count of just how many people have come to my place, played a bit of Castle Crashers and then played the night away (with me or without me…) Not a huge game by any standards but I can see how me and 3 more friends will sometime come back to live the complete 4-player experience.
Go
Just a few days ago me and Alex had the chance to at last play Go together. It was just as good a game as I remembered it, having only played it once before. Thank you again Cies for introducing me to a game that takes one go (pun intended) to learn and two lifetimes to master.
Go is apparently the oldest known board game, much older than chess or even backgammon. Its roots are oriental and more specifically Chinese. From there it has spread over the centuries to Japan and other asian countries where it’s now possibly the most widespread game, played in tournaments, special clubs and between friends. Oddly, it’s not that well known in Europe, especially not in Greece. I’ve only seen it twice and under totally random circumstances. Since Chess is king over here I doubt we’ll be seeing people play it more but you never know, chinese expansion could also mean cultural expansion? Hmm…
The board is empty once players start off. The players take turns placing one stone on the intersections of the board, forming groups. If the other player surrounds the entire group with her own stones then the surrounded stones are captured and removed from the game. And… that’s basically it. Every other rule derives from this simple principle. The winner is the player who controls the largest part of the board with her stones at the end of the game, point which is declared by both players passing consecutively.
These simple rules define a game of strategy, deception, intrigue, loss, amazement, fulfilment and active rivalry between the players. Never before have I seen a game so noble: one rule suggests that players say “atari” when a move of theirs will capture enemy stones in the next move so that they can react accordingly. Thus the point automatically becomes cornering the opponent and making her not be able to do anything to save herself as opposed to taking advantage of a miscalculation or a careless move which is a norm in chess. Indeed, never before have I seen a game so fair: two players of extremely different skill can fruitfully play together by having a handicap for the stronger player: the weaker one starts off with as many stones already on the board as the difference of skill indicates.
Alexandra has beat me every time we’ve played together save 2. I will strive to get better and one day, as the mighty yet harmonious Go spirit commands, I just might achieve the perfect balance of spirit and wit, become one with the universe… *floats*
Deception Point, by Dan Brown
I first got to know of Dan Brown through his most famous work, that is none other than “The Da Vinci Code”. It’s his latest work out of a total of 4 books he has written within the past 12 or so years. I read Angels and Demons, The Da Vinci Code and Digital Fortress all roughly 2 years ago and Deception Point just now and I’m genuinely impressed by his consistency in showing the world how skillful he is in grabbing his readers by the balls. However, The Da Vinci Code is surely Brown’s most overestimated work, another proof of why the best-seller isn’t always the best-in-general (the rest of his books it turn became best-sellers after the success of The Da Vinci Code). Angels and Demons, which was very similar in its religious and “secret cults” themes to the former, I enjoyed much more. “Deception Point” has a plotline that has more to do with politics, scandals, secret government agencies, NASA, a huge conpiracy… A lot more like Digital Fortress.
This book didn’t just have twists. Its twists were the evolution of the twists of the original twists that I thought were good twists. Yes, it was twisty. The characters felt alive if a bit contived (like the nerd astrophysicist or the always sexy front couple), the action never stopped, the good guys turned bad and then good again within a matter of pages (before they turn out bad at the end of the b… oh, another twist. They’re good), the little pieces of actual real-world scientific aspects, like the fossils and meteorite and the futuristic gadgets (always part of Brown’s stories) also gave it a nice tw… edge. Yes, I liked this book. Seemingly complex but ultimately quite easy to grasp and FUN! You just can’t help but smile when the bad guys fire bullets made of ice. Recommended.
PS: I regret to say I’ve read all of the books mentioned above in greek. They may be even better in english.
My last post was pretty sad and uncertain. Almost a whole month later, a lot of things have happened. First of all, Easter holidays have come and gone. 15 days that felt like 5. Seriously, time went by so fast. Back in January, the Christmas holidays, really did feel like 23 days. Now… I barely had any time at all to do anything, or so I felt. Alex, close friends and meetings (lots and lots of those two categories), a bit of Aegina and a bit of rural Larissa for the otherwise festive days… It was definitely the most unorthodox (pun intended) Easter I’ve had. I think it’s because I spent the really FESTIVE YEAH WE’RE GONNA EAT TILL WE GO NUCLEAR days away from my parents and close to my love.
Highlights of stuff in no particular order:
1. Improbable, by Adam Fawer. A mystery novel/action thriller/scientific manifesto/philosophical exploration that tells the tale of David Caine, an epileptic gambler that becomes Laplace’s Demon. It goes through various theories about probability, determinism, the idea of multiple dimensions (my favourite!) and the like, all the while maintaining a very tight plot and working on very interesting, distinct and memorable characters. Its scientific insight on mostly philosophical matters is great food for thought… A well-written but surprisingly unknown book, I recommend it to anyone who likes their science as well as their nail-biting suspense in one tight package.
2. Catan. My interest in unusual but exciting board-games sparked just a few months ago. The Settlers of Catan is a perfect example of the kind of board games I want to try and enjoy. I downloaded a demo of the Xbox Live Arcade version and liked it, so I looked out for it and spotted the greek version of Catan in Public (Athens). I think the 35 euros I gave for it were justified thus far, but my hopes of friends suddenly becoming just as excited as I am for board games are quickly being pissed on. I’ve only had one session of Catan since I bought it, and we didn’t finish it either. 🙁
3. Cats. During the Easter holidays I came across many a kitten. I even witnessed the birth of a kitten at Alex’s cousin’s house in the countryside. It was a beautiful moment, and I knew that since then, I’d never look at cats the same way. It wasn’t long before the first opportunity since then appeared; Oliva, everybody’s favourite Italian artistic spirit, whom I met at the street first day I was in Mytilini after Easter, was holding a beautiful kitten. Long story short, I’m now a proud parent of a little kitten. Her name is Yuki, and she’s snow white! I love her and I’m sure that my cat love is only just surfacing — I know we’re going to spend many happy times together… UNLESS SHE CONTINUES PESTERING ME WHEN I’M TRYING TO GO TO SLEEP AND HAVING DIARROEA ANYWHERE BUT IN HER SANDBOX!
Use new tabs to view enlarged images.
And here’s a pic from my secret Nazionalist Kätzchen Trainingsprogramm. Oops shouldn’t have shown that!
4. Life of Pi, by Yann Martel. I read more than 3/4 of this book on my way back to Mytilini (the same trip I finished Improbable. I feel like a bookworm now! ^^). I couldn’t put it down. Simple as that. It certainly struck a chord with my animal lover part. “This story will make you believe in God” is a phrase often repeated within it and I heartily agree. Tender, brutal, religious and exotic at the same time, I can’t decide which shock was greater: the on that derived from my initial impression that the book was retelling a true story or my subsequent realisation that in fact it didn’t. Amelie director Jean-Pierre Jeunet was chosen for the creation of the silver screen rendition and he eagerly accepted. That alone speaks wonders. Read Life of Pi.
5. Projects. Yes my University projects are going very well. Kthxbi.
6. Planning Eurotrip. So this is the plan: Me and Alex are leaving on July 9th to go to Finland, where we’ll work at Koli National Park, shepherding sheep and preserving the habitat. We’re volunteering to enjoy Finland’s natural beauty and relax. After that, though (somewhere around July 20th-25th) our as-of-yet unbought InterRail ticket will be valid. And then, our month-long train journey will commence! We’ll take the train from Finland back to Greece, going from Helsinki to Copenhagen, traversing Scandinavia and from there just about anywhere in Central Europe. We’ll be going to Holland, Belgium, Germany, Czech, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Slovenia… But out schedule is wide-open and changes can of course be made. I want to stress this part: we DON’T plan on doing this just the two of us. Any participation from anyone that wants to travel with us is ENCOURAGED. We WANT company, we WANT to share the experience. Anyone that would like to join us can meet us anywhere along our trip. We’ve been stressing this for a few months now but nobody has been eager enough so now might be a bit too late. It won’t be a cheap ride, but we’re planning on making it cheaper by CouchSurfing and minimizing costs. If you are interested at all, please tell me and start making money. It’ll be either the two of us or >=4 of us, for obvious reasons. Anyway. WHILE THERE’S STILL TIME! HURRY! IT’S A UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY!
7. GTA IV. It’s been a long time since ANY game received this much praise. Mordread and George bought it and I had the chance to play it and watch it — it’s one of the few games that’s actually fun to watch — at the former’s place several times. Well… It’s a great game, no doubt. The part of it that deserves 10/10 is not the actual gameplay though. The sandbox, go around shooting everyone, stealing cars, having fun with stupid (on purpose?) AI and laughing out loud many many times is notably better than GTA III & Co. but still not perfect. It’s more of the setting, story and atmosphere that are much more elaborate than previous renditions of the game. Since I’ve only played but a small part of the story, I can’t comment on how it unfolds. I can definitely say thought that if I had the €70 required to get my dirty hands on it, I’d gladly pay.
