Sunday, March 29, 2009

craigslist ad.

You're a single mom with limited time? Do you want to remain being Single? I am the counterpart as a dad! Currently have no place for a traditional relationship. I am in spite of everything
spontaneously, since Best Private Babysitter - Grandma / Grandpa. Do you want to physical proximity, stroking, kissing, but also on pure lust. At the tender, hot, crazy hours (or nights?) Do you want really long time and often again ...? Sign up! Then we can see if the chemistry is right. We are: Woman 3.5, men years 179/71 and come from the northeast of Berlin. 'm Mobile.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Well, there's like a hailstorm right now. So long brief, dewy respite, hello Faustian promise in exchange for better weather. Listen Mephisto, you get my self-respect, I get the Caymans in the middle of Kreuzberg (pssssst, joke's on him, I gave that shit away years ago at a keg party!).
Setting the scene:
Last week, on Wednesday or something, the sun came out. I was sitting outside a Greek restaurant with my friend Emily, drinking too-early-to-be-acceptable-wine and I swear to god that my eyes had grown so accustomed to darkness that they hurt when in the presence of that fickle harlot slut, the sun. She comes only to taunt me, then retreats into her brothel of awesomeness (Mexico).
I swear though, if Spring doesn't happen within 10 days I will start a holy war and lead the way with my newfound nightvision, massacring all those who were not lucky enough to be endowed with the superpowers that accompany seasonal depression. I will spew cough syrup from my puffy, swollen face! I will complain incessantly about my wind-exposed kidneys until their heads explode! I will leak acid from my overused, poor people boots.
Sun, ladyfriend, stop collectively blueballing Berlin. Give it up gurl.
Cultural things I have been doing: (note: tltl--toolazytolink)
As stated before, my skowfriend Alejandro is in town and this weekend we went to a bunch of art openings and a "leggings" party. I will only offer up this explanation: there were a lot of leggings and it was a celebration of leggings.
The exhibitions were unbelievably mediocre, like a Sandra Bullock movie, German-Thai cuisine or SNL post 1992.
But here they are, sans a good description:
September Gallery:
I was really excited to go to this place, I think they are one of the most exciting new spaces in Berlin. But then the show just blew my mind with it's infantile mimicry of hip, designy but not too designy art. Also, the people were really snooty.
The next 3 shows were different spaces in the same building:
Future Perfect Gallery:
This was the only show I would label "good." And it was good enough for me to link to one of the artists, whose sculptures I found v. interesting despite his allegiance to the sameness-of-design model mentioned above.
Gelerija Gregor Podnar:
Didn't hate or love it, but am becoming enraged at being enraged for the same reasons all the time. Same problems as mentioned above and above.
Galerie Opdahl:
Libia Castro and Olafur Eliasson's video work.
Honestly, I can't really comment because there were too many skinny jeans in my face to actually see the work. And the collective rustling of tight denim and ironic windbreakers prevented me from hearing it either.
Chert Gallery:
This is Alejandro's gallery, and I love the space and it seems like they put on interesting shows, but this one didn't do it for me. Text was required and it was most definitely missing something to hold my attention.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Thursday, March 12, 2009

There's a black guy in the White House, we have toilets that flush themselves, we have this blinking box I write words on top of, how do we not have a hangover cure by now? I need something stronger that 2 aspirin and a beer, I need some kind of miracle panacea. In a goblet. Welded in Hades...for those days when Bacchus just HAD to keep orgy-ing through his pain. Oh man, my head hurts.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

As an antidote to my last post of very little substance and a whole lot of bullshit, I am going to write something more concrete. Here are some things I received for my bday last week paired with some artists I'm interested in lately.
Champagne/Nina Katchadorian
Comic book by famous German gay dude/Lisi Raskin
Full body massage/ Sarah Oppenheimer
Vietnamese dinner/Dan Attoe

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Gross Emo Expat Rant.

Lately, I've been thinking that the world is ending. On some level, I believe this. I believe at least that the world as I know it, chockful of superfluous sitcoms, self-induced life melodrama and oblivious egocentrism is over. In a way, I am America.
Do you want to know what I think the biggest difference between Europeans and Americans is? It's not creative hygeine or an overabundance of pork products. I think it's that American ideology is so entrenched in isolationism that it borders on Courtney Love crazy.
Which I love and hate at the same time. We are awesome and have things like Sonic and the Great Plains (which I think are on par btw). But, Europeans are much more well-versed about us than we are about them. It's a rather obvious statement, I know.
Europeans were incredibly invested in our election, but do most people know who the chancellor of Germany is? Or that Belgium has the longest highway (as compared to the size of the country) in the world? Or that Greece has the greatest number of smokers in terms of it's population? Or that Luxembourg leads the world in equine-sex related casualties?
Jk on that last one. Or am I? How would you know? These people were and are our allies, and we ignore them like the girl who wears press-on cat t-shirts to school. Hmmm, maybe I'm Europe actually.
Why don't we know this shit? Why are most Europeans fluent in multiple languages while Americans lead the world in retardo text-message dialogue? Idk.
Oh god, I'm aware this sounds so "I'm an expat living in Europe and I smoke Gauloises and eat unpasteurized yogurt" preachy, but it's true goddamit. And I also know that a lot of this has to do with simple geography, but still. And I know my man Barack has made a pledge of multilateralism, but living here, I am struck by this realization constantly. And I'm kind of mad about the way I was educated.
I admire Europe's cooperative and informed political sense *gross generalization, and I admire even more education systems with global priorities.
At the same time, I miss and think I better understand the ambition that comes with America's self-insistence. The American dream, man. That's the difference. A national lack of impulse-control that drives us to gamble on success. I think I love it...but it's kind of gross. And maybe, truly, over? At least the incarnation that once was?
I've been thinking about art fairs as symptomatic of a bloated, overfed economy. And now? Now nothing, there's the itchiness without the pox to make it matter.
I guess I'm writing about this because I feel both happy and sad about the fat, ailing blind man that is America. Or me.
Or Orson Welles.