The age of bullying

Essentially the post-recession rise of fascism in the western world had a very subtle impact on society. It involved many incidents of violence and murder and some institutionalisation with participation in parliaments and decision-making centres, but the most profound impact had to do with instillation of fear in people. After a wave of insolent violence, which created a counter wave of solidarity, everything seemingly calmed down in Greece with Syriza coming to power. I have heard from immigrants themselves that the Syriza government created a perceived retreat in fascist violent attacks, however, most “peaceful and respectful” citizens were scarred with fear, burdened with the awareness that fascism is still alive and well.

Small references implying racism and conservatism blending in most bizarrely with political-correctness can be heard more widely than ever through the cracks of external decency. The lack of political education and the distortion of modern history by all sides, left a lot of people who are just taken by the wind to whichever direction feels safest, with a subtle fascist dialectic enriching their speech.

One of my son’s friends was walking down Lycabettus with us and some other kids when he asked me how come we were going that way, “I’ve parked the car in Exarchia (area where most anarchist groups are based)” I replied. “Are you an anarchist then?” he went on to inquire, to which I replied “no dear, it’s just that Exarchia is the only place in central Athens where you can park your car for free”, “you like throwing stones at the police and smashing things, don’t you?” he insisted. I’ve known his parents for several years and nothing could justify this small attack.

This and other small trivial incidents, where people are so overcome with fascist propaganda and fear that it starts showing how little culture or sophistication their souls truly perspire, remind me that there are things boiling underneath us all and a volcanic eruption may be unavoidable, unless a global act of justice may finally put idiots at ease for a while.

It’s a time when no one feels safe and taxation is so unrealistic that everyone feels targeted and unable to maintain the low profiles the majority is usually comfortable with. At this time, no alternative, even on a theoretic basis can begin to sparkle even small-talk, not to mention debate. People are so scared really, that they are willing to take the side of the biggest bully.

And after a long period of wondering “how did wwII come about?” finally came a period of “ahaaaa that’s how it works!”. Everyone leading aimless existences likes being punished or rewarded according to a system of justice and what principles justice follows is irrelevant, as long as there is a system and everyone leads aimless existences in a non-existent economy, unless they’re poets. So we wait for a new system and the longer the wait the more unprecedented the outcome, as the eagerness will be too great to contain.


zombie herd of sheep

-The sheep are dead!

-How can they be dead? who killed them?

-I did.

-How could you? How did you kill them? Did they know they were going to die?

-No, they had no idea. I killed them with a gun.

-Hmmm at least they didn’t know.

-Do you realise they might come back and haunt you? That herd, always so willing to follow you around and lick you, so soft and whooly. Oh god why?

-They are dead, I made money.

-What kind of man are you?

-I didn’t enjoy killing them, you know.

-But you were the one who caused their death. They are now meat.

-Clearly, but you know I would much rather have meat that I know lived a happy life.

-Meat living a life, happy matter, life, food, I can’t even begin to understand how all these things are related.

-I do.

-Baaaaaaaa baaaaaaa…. Can you hear that? It’s the sheep back to haunt you… You used to have a herd of sheep in your garden, now you have a zombie herd of sheep!

-Ha ha ha, you’re an idiot.

-I know, but emm… yeah.

my best friend, brain

My brain is like a cat and sadly I hate cats, they have so little consideration for the collective

it loves finding boxes and enclosing itself

it usually comes out at the most unexpected times

and knocks over a vase with flowers I was carefully arranging for hours

it is at its most embarrassing when sexually attracted to people and ideas

it pleases itself with obscenities that serve no other purpose than its unsatisfiable hunger for play

it lacks eyes, ears and nose and just curls up next to the wrong people purring like an idiot

it mostly enjoys reading books by complete assholes

the few times we like the same books I announce it to everyone triumphantly

little do they know what I have to go though with this tasteless horny idiot all the time

it just finished reading a book by Celine

it really liked it and I find it quite embarrassing

he was a fucken sick fascist, brain! I cry out, but it just doesn’t care

I’m really angry at the moment and I need to stop writing and get drunk

I am not normally violent, but sometimes I even suspect it has phallocratic tendencies

we’re freaking girls!!!

Oh no was that another brain cell dieing?

Oh no, poor brain, so sorry for you… NOT!

a day in southpark

Bullshit all day long

streets paved with idiots

my life paved with idiots

chasing me forever

calling me to tell me I was right

“hello idiot, so kind of you to remind me you existed”

elongated genitals in my inbox

the only thing they have to show

regurgitating information

brains melting like ice-cream

slimy sticky brains weighting over shoulders

complete override of disgust

conservatism praised for its graceful nothingness

narcissism styled to perfection

a desire to devour

like maniacs looking without seeing

screaming in silence

swallowing without tasting

revenge on everyone’s mind

Céline smiling from hell

and yet

nature beautifully tagging everything with expiration dates

a tree

When I have my son’s friends over they blurt out outrageously freudian unconsciously formed phrases. They are completely uninhibited, which puts me in a position of having to constantly re-establish the boundaries. My own son is pretty clear about the context. However, the setting is completely unfamiliar to his friends. They can be insulting and uncontrollable, even though they’re very nice kids normally. This reminds me of my own friends sometimes, only it’s more blatant, due to their lack of defenses and references. We grew from primary freudian and darwinian readings to frommian and steinbeckian social understandings – the meaning being less important than the intention of writing what they did. I can feel that the outside world feels how this makes us socially dysfunctional and yet desirable. A world they might like to attack and yet feed from. A destructive desire for something insulting the surrounding pretenses and the numbing overstimulation they’re forced to become accustomed to and something that may entail the danger of altering you if you were to deconstruct it. We talk about it when everyone’s gone, listening to music and being complete freaks in our literary dimension of existence. But it makes it so much more clear that we live in a dystopian cannibalistic society and it fills us both with awe that we haven’t been devoured yet after 12 years. Whatever the references, every family feels like this sometimes. This is what is probably created after years of whispering a certain personal narrative to a small ear, often unwilling to hear. Like background noise, collectively appreciated one day as out-of-tune music or a tree reiterating, sometimes towards the wrong direction, due to ultraviolet radiation.

white noise

I sat with a man who makes white noise when he opens his mouth

I was trying to explain things because they told me that being elaborate enables collective thoughtfulness

but all I got in reply was white noise

he made very good points that dissolved my efforts to keep food well refrigerated

I feared for the germs that would develop in the tomato sauce can

but he gave me a canned tomato sauce refrigeration manual to read, explaining that the microbes were really nothing a healthy immune system could not cope with rather effortlessly

that night I dreamed a movie, it was about a pregnant woman who opts to continue with her life instead of giving birth

no need to bring anything to life before it’s aching to come out

when I woke up I wasn’t pregnant, I had tomato sauce on my fingers and the fridge was making blissful autumn sounds


Yo dog

He said I miss souvlaki

These are the nicest people on earth, but they’re fucken boring as hell

He’s like the nicest dad on earth, but he’s as boring as a berry in august in a bush in the Finnish countryside

May sound like nothing to you, but to us, all this is our life’s reference

It’s like winking to someone always watching over you watching over them

I grabbed the dog and went to see a movie

It was a screening for dogs

They were the happiest dogs on earth, cause anyway how many dogs do you know who get to watch spirited away accompanied by a very elaborate dj set along with their owners all in pretty good spirits?

Everyone was blissfully sniffing everyone’s ass

Really good smelling asses, well ok they’re asses, but you know how in touch it makes a dog feel with the universe to sniff a friendly ass

we were all drooling over everyone and sniffing and scratching and howling

Never felt this in touch with my dog side before

It was like the stuff a dog’s dream is made of

I felt like a good dog

but I wonder, am I really?

they say that a dog is always in love


The selfish meme

When you grow up in the kind of family, where certain references are compulsory, you have two options, either to reject them, or to take them as part of your childhood memories. As the third and youngest child, growing up in a house full of people and life, I went for the second. I grew-up gender-less, as unbelievable as it sounds, they allowed me back in the 80s to choose my own gender (I don’t think I was the only one back then, somehow we think we’re moving forwards, but I doubt it). They used to dress me as a boy and my hair was an afro, until I decided I wanted to be a girl and changed my name from a neutral “Maro” to “Maria” which seemed more feminine. I was their toy, everyone’s little experiment. They told me things too advanced for my age and watched how I would react to them. They always smiled, whatever I said. That kind of upbringing always makes one feel they will forever be meant to be a grown-up one day… one day.

So I was somewhat directed to watch a number of films, among which was La Strada, by Fellini. As my references became intertwined with childhood memories, I was not interested in remembering any titles or names. I never remember, because I never care. Sometimes I envy those people who discover things, such as Fellini, all on their own, but for me, Guilietta Masina is just a person I knew during my childhood.

I watched La Strada again today and realised I knew every little scene, every little dialogue, it was all somewhere in my brain. It was a funny, a really random and ridiculous meme that my parents had hidden there. Why on earth would they consider it wise to do such a thing, beats me, but I could tell you that I had even probably reenacted certain scenes or some of Guilietta’s expressions during my lifetime, without even knowing why.

And then again, art is such a magically aimless thing to give to your child, it’s like telling them you will love them no matter what or like telling them that the only reason you ever had them was because you wanted their company and free expression, nothing less, nothing more. Just another cool person to hang out with and since there was none, they thought they’d make one.

It was probably the same time that I had been sat down to watch La Strada by my parents, that I had been sat down by my older brother to listen to the Talking Heads and it just hit me tonight that all these years I was actually considering Gelsomina and Tina Weymouth to be the same person… it’s funny, but Tina used to be my hero and for a reason no one knew I used to call her Heltina.

Thirty years later the mystery is solved and I’m smiling all by myself. Art is almost a language and the way a child perceives it resembles bilingualism. Everyone I ever took interest in, each one of my facial expressions anyone had identified with was dictated by those memes and my perception of them.



Everything about marriage is subject to criticism

its theoretical foundations are at first glance so religion and society related that I despair

I despair joyfully

however, beneath all the small-talk and the class-related affirmations, the anthropological significance is evident

It may be inappropriate for sexual intercourse to somehow involve a celebration and a gathering of families

but at the occasion of a formalisation of such a union by means of the credentials of one god or another, the exchange of genetic material somehow brings people together in a metaphysical context

The night before my brother told me he felt our father would have an accident on his way to the wedding. He felt that probability justified his fears. I felt nothing of the sort, which made the announcement of the accident almost cinematic.

We jumped on a boat and were transported to the mainland, where a car was waiting to take us to the place where the car had flipped over. Every conversation and every word anyone uttered seemed a bit too profound to be part of reality during our way there. It turned out everyone was fine and our father was immensely glad he didn’t wear a seat-belt, so he could climb out of the car quickly, while our granny was happy her hair still looked big.

Our new family-to-be had no idea how to interpret what they were seeing or what was being said, but they were already socially and genetically destined to start understanding, as were we to understand their less dramatic ways.

The union was sealed through a few scratches, a bump on a head and a wrecked car.

We had all been shaken collectively, sniffing out emotions, tears and neuroses. On our way back, the realisation that we had all been preparing for this moment throughout a relationship that was leading up to a marriage, delayed by one hour, was evident. No one felt the need to speak any longer, we could not keep up pretenses – even before the ceremony took place, we had all come to see that the blood of one stream was flowing through the other at the exact point of their union.

A jeep had to be sacrificed to gain approval from the dead. It was a perfectly healthy strong car and our ancestors were pleased.

We got wasted and danced all night. Everything was as it should, as it always was.

all the mean things you did will forever be online

I have a big mouth, but hold on, isn’t a big mouth the only weapon against the manipulative ethic of the patriarchy? My big mouth has always protected me from manipulative patriarchs, even when they were close friends or family – especially then. So sorry, not sorry, maybe convert to feminism and drop the ego? If you think about it most people ask you to keep their big ego a secret and in the rest of the cases the secret is worth keeping.