Or Jokes (from the) Inside
[Apropos, jai me to soundtrack tou]
Coming round to it, with all the open-plan kitchens of today's condominiums, the alcoves of quickie-love in the domestic arena have all but already materialiased as the outside; opened up to the porosity of our specific urban situation and mirrored it back as style. I can see you, you can see me, I can hear you and you me - but no touching. So in days like this, where the 4.4 allows for allusions to 4x4=16, you end up with a gangbang in your hands. The kitchen is out -since it's no longer a kitchen but a 'living area' - and on top the order is, in days like this, to go to open air spaces. Don't stay enclosed. The veranda is not an open air space per se. It also suffices to just mention that having 16 people moaning and shaking on a veranda will almost surely quadruple the strenghth of the end result of the unavoidable. It is hot too. Hm.
Dilemma.
In the past the Orphanides car park has been suggested as an alternative. And what a better solution may I ask than a trip to the supermarket, the sort of trip Enviro-Epitrop (sic) The First really, really, likes. You also get to shut down the airconditioning system, the tv, the other tv, the dvd player, the desktop and the laptop, thus backing Panousis' sole rights to the 10 000kW saga and its various recordered records. I am of course talking about dogging. Dogging as a multifaceted civil and ecological activity that is in proxy already adviced by various govermental departments of this Gerorge Michael (least we forget) land. Van De Meer's dog is dead but we ve learned from our mistakes. We have a blogging Enviro-Epitrop (sic) being active and publicly accountable for it if you do not believe it. And as much as I searched to find any mention of cycles, bike sharing, congestion charging, CO2 emmisions cutting plans, golf, I found nothing. Nothing but talk about a lot of talks with supermarkets and their plastic bags (Just ban the shit man! And tax its use for a brief spell beforehand so people will get used to not having it around too. No need for car-dependent meetings!), Green Dot (what a lovely lot they are: a recycling and waste management company giving out two air tickets to Paris as gifts for some form of lottery of theirs - and no I am not going to start calculating the maths of such an offset of the offset of their carbon footprint and in extenso our contribution to the economcis of climate change - he can do it) and Bryan Adams.
Bryan Adams of course is THE soundtrack for dogging. You know: 'Summer of 69', 'Everything I do, I do it for you', 'Have you ever loved a woman?', 'Open Road'. Ah! No wonder Canada apologised many times about him on South Park. Whereas if you try to cycle along with Bryan Adams on your iPod, you will go for 100, 200, ate 300 metres (Ibid) but then you wouldn't really feel right. No, you will actually find yourself very tired and you might have to be sent off to Australia for some whale watching and some wailing simulation courtesy of Despo Plyta. And all you thought you 've done for the enviroment, for this land, for its people, all just goes poof! Australia's relationship with Imelda Marcos is of course well known: Imelda needs sand, Imleda sends plane to Australia, plane bring sand for Imelda. Nothing vulgar about that. But the Paphos spot was already booked - and thus Australia. (What flight emissions, you willy nilly Cameronites?!)
Not exactly closing off the circle, not yet, what the guy is trying to do looks like a cool local government activist's job really. Nice, easy-going guy perplaxed as to why the people who put him there don't even cock as much as an ear to him. Naive yet passionate. Bless him.
Den thelw 'eu'! Ate...
Hope he has his summer reading list ready though. I know I do.
A kind of a "dangerous supplement", marked, scarred on a body, post-orgasmically, always, already in anticipation of (a) crisis OR for a desert avec 'agape'. Mindb(l)ogg(l)ing Noise. "Avalanche, would you share my last pursuit?" (Baudelaire)
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2 comments:
Looks like prose but walks like poetry.
Tip o' the hat to you, sir.
Much honoured Beatitude.
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