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01 September 2009

A 3 minute flow of thoughts

I was on my way to the station on my bike this morning, totally sweated and out of breath because I always seem to leave last minute even when I could have left 10 minutes earlier and arrive elegantly and not in need of deodorant and able to fill in my ticket without having to catch my breath first. Period. Ok my sentences are too long. That’s not really a good writing style. I guess I am still influenced by the Latin courses I had on this catholic nun school when I was a blossoming teenager which was not really appreciated then. Luckely that changed when we were allowed to go to the higher years. Other building, the nuns were far away and a woodstockanian air of anything goes in the form of “you can sit on the ground but please lift up your ass when the teacher let’s you in the classroom so that you can actually deplace yourself into classroom”. I have good memories about secondary school and the Latin courses. In specific the Greek courses which involved Greek cookery ( I had my first olive on school) and fantasies about Greek hairdo’s because we were so fascinated by the fabulous ancient Greek women’s hair on the old pottery. We decided we’d become hairdressers if we would flunk. Recently I heard one of the ten pupils we were back then, is actually a hairdresser now although she didn’t flunk secondary school. She did stop her university courses so in a way I could say she respected the vow. Or maybe she remembered the vow and then had to stop her studies. But I guess she was dead serious about it back then. So were we because we knew we wouldn’t flunk and we could invent stories and impossible conditions this way. But the relaxing head massage and female worryness in the hair salon always makes me wonder why the heck I didn’t became a hairdresser! Then I wouldn’t be writing long sentences but instead having long conversations and I would earn honest money. That is if I wouldn’t sell hair extensions made of Indian women’s hair. I would pay 450 euro and the women in India would get 20 dollars. And then maybe I would have to cut the hair of people owning those ridiculous big 4x4 monster cars. The people who annoyed me sitting on my bike, in a hurry to catch my ecological trainride. I would have serious problems with cutting a person’s hair who is convinced they need a big car like that to for example transport their kids to school. Especially if they think their kids are safer that way while they probably have more statistical chance in hitting another kid on an ecological bike with a fluo jacket and a safety cap on. The transported kid get’s a huge sense of unsafety when not sitting in the monstruous killer car. It get’s the feeling it is living in a hostile world which in the end leads to buying an even bigger car when grown up and vote for the political party that wants to have clean and peaceful streets having no ‘strange(r)’ people. If the political party also is pro discarding speed limit and lowering speeding fines and taking down speed spying cameras then it is a vote! After dropping the kid at school where the kid needs to be taught another worldview and where the teacher has to be 100% pedagocic justified, the parent in the 4x4 car, with or without status anxiety, is posting on Twitter on his iPhone, having a laugh with one of his people he follows who is complaining about a delayed train. Or the mother could be calling her hairdresser saying she is in desperate need of an ammoniac hairdyeing for the annual green benefit. At the time when the old Greeks reigned the world,...back then some people also feared they would lose what they thought they possessed forever. Next to money and power they would utimately lose the beauty of their youth. That’s why the painted marvellous hair on their vases and depicted muscled men sometimes with young naked boys. Pretty much the same now ... the world. You could just skip your university years if acknowledging some very easy principles of life and mankind. You could open a hairsalon where you spread out this simple view on life, warning everybody for little green monsters on your shoulder and the big not so green car they drive in. I wonder if this would have more effect than spreading out pamflets or writing blogposts about the world that is dying. Tomorrow I will be again riding my bike, so will I next week and next year and I will curse some people with my red head and almost flat tiers because I had to leave instantly. And in the evening I would eat an olive and feel safe.

1 comment:

  1. leuk, lijkt wel een snel-schrijf oefening. Ooit Jack Kerouac gelezen? Jack zette hem aan zijn typmachine en begon te schrijven. Non-stop. En zo'n schrijfmanier levert heel rauwe en snelle teksten op. Woorden die je leiden van de ene naar de andere gedachte.

    Je beschrijving van de 4x4-ouders doet me denken aan de bobo's (check Renaud - Les Bobos, tekst hieronder). 4x4 ouders fietsen ook! Maar alleen op zondag :-)

    tot gauw!



    On les appelle bourgeois bohêmes
    Ou bien bobos pour les intimes
    Dans les chanson d'Vincent Delerm
    On les retrouve à chaque rime
    Ils sont une nouvelle classe
    Après les bourges et les prolos
    Pas loin des beaufs, quoique plus classe
    Je vais vous en dresser le tableau
    Sont un peu artistes c’est déjà ça
    Mais leur passion c'est leur boulot
    Dans l’informatique, les médias
    Sont fier d'payer beaucoup d'impôts

    Les bobos, les bobos
    Les bobos, les bobos

    Ils vivent dans les beaux quartiers
    ou en banlieue mais dans un loft
    Ateliers d’artistes branchés,
    Bien plus tendance que l'avenue Foch
    ont des enfants bien élevés,
    qui ont lu le Petit Prince à 6 ans
    Qui vont dans des écoles privées
    Privées de racaille, je me comprends

    ils fument un joint de temps en temps,
    font leurs courses dans les marchés bios
    Roulent en 4x4, mais l’plus souvent,
    préfèrent s’déplacer à vélo

    Les bobos, les bobos
    Les bobos, les bobos

    Ils lisent Houellebecq ou philippe Djian,les Inrocks et Télérama,
    Leur livre de chevet c’est surand
    Près du catalogue Ikea.
    Ils aiment les restos japonais et le cinéma coréen
    passent leurs vacances au cap Ferret
    La côte d'azur, franchement ça craint
    Ils regardent surtout ARTE
    Canal plus, c’est pour les blaireaux
    Sauf pour les matchs du PSG
    et d’temps en temps un p'tit porno

    Les bobos, les bobos
    Les bobos, les bobos

    Ils écoutent sur leur chaîne hi fi
    France-info toute la journée
    Alain Bashung Françoise Hardy
    Et forcement Gérard Manset
    Ils aiment Desproges sans même savoir
    que Desproges les détestait
    Bedos et Jean Marie Bigard,
    même s’ils ont honte de l’avouer
    Ils aiment Jack Lang et Sarkozy
    Mais votent toujours Ecolo
    Ils adorent le Maire de Paris,
    Ardisson et son pote Marco

    Les bobos, les bobos
    Les bobos, les bobos

    La femme se fringue chez Diesel
    Et l'homme a des prix chez Kenzo
    Pour leur cachemire toujours nickel
    Zadig & Voltaire je dis bravo
    Ils fréquentent beaucoup les musées,
    les galeries d'art, les vieux bistrots
    boivent de la manzana glacée en écoutant Manu chao
    Ma plume est un peu assassine
    Pour ces gens que je n'aime pas trop
    par certains côtés, j'imagine…
    Que j'fais aussi partie du lot

    Les bobos, les bobos
    Les bobos, les bobos

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