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Rambopoulos
I assure you readers not familiar with Greece: more things happen there other than protests, mobs and activism. But I’ve logged two years living there and these are the first ones coming to mind as good to share.
While odysseying through Greece, let’s talk elections-civic participation in democracy. Obama was the closest phenomenon I’ve witnessed and participated in here in the US that approached participatory democracy, which occurs in lots of other places, Greece included. (Actually, Alexis Stamatis, author of American Fuge might disagree with that statement). Greeks discuss their choices with vigor, vote with passion, and will continue to give you an earful after the fact. (My theory is Frappés help stimulate this charge).
My first days in Athens as a full time student landed me smack dead in the middle of a national election. PASOK versus Nea Demokratia, versus KKE the community party, versus… I loose count. Three is a stretch for someone used to a two party system. My neighborhood was thick with mobs of people draped in green and white, cheering as they blessed the streets with confetti. PASOK had won, their crew was happy, and they took their evening parade from neighborhood to neighborhood. Much like walking with with the anti-NATO, anti-Kosovo crowd, I got caught up in it, but this time more so by choice and peer pressure, and joined the tail end of the little green and white fog creeping through the streets of Athens. Rambopoulos – continue reading …
A Loafer’s Manifesto
“I have a dream. It is called love, anarchy, freedom. It is called being idle.”
-Tom Hodgkinson
That’s how this gem of a book ends, and it is faithful to its departing words. Most Urbanites would benefit from skimming though “How to Be Idle”. It is a true idler’s manifesto. Before you judge, let’s put give some more thought to that name, idler, that might turn you off. This little book called for me with its perfect blend of creative font, artwork and cool peach color. I saw the man sitting at his table with his frappé, cigarette and crossed leg and had a visceral reaction of my ideal day (I don’t smoke, but I can pretend I do). Inside its relaxed cover is a rallying charge from the heart, complete with historical context on the degradation of the human spirit through wage labor and prudery. A Loafer’s Manifesto – continue reading …
Pass me a molotov
If any of you have ever lived in or visited Greece, or perhaps have watched television in the last year, you know that riots, protests and strikes are fairly common and normal. My paranoid self would travel no where on the planet where the US government issued a warning for its citizens not to visit, but I’ve made Greece an exception, and traveled there in the middle of the Kosovo war.
Love and its doppelgänger lust often make you the invincible warrior. I can’t really recall what brought me back there at such a time, but I do know I felt secure enough to go. I was on an errand and needed to collect some paper work from someone’s office so hopped on the bus and got off 2o minutes later at my stop. I stepped off, the doors closed. I felt a tad bit strange. I shrugged my shoulders, got on with my chore, and exited the office about 10 minutes later. I had just missed the bus- there it was chugging along one of the busiest streets in Athens, except there weren’t any other cars with it. Just as there weren’t any pedestrians in the street. Suddenly I realized that I was very, very alone in a place that should normally be packed with shoppers, trolley cars, mopeds, and Roma kids (gypsies) selling tissues and water. It was like walking out onto Times Square mid day and finding it’s empty. Pass me a molotov – continue reading …
Buy here and die
Flea Market, Athens Greece 2007
I was scared to shop here. Apologizes to these people for posting the backs of their heads.
Hope… a generation
Athens Graffiti 2007, Gazi
The real face behind the Obama 2008 Presidential Campaign. They just spruced it up and added an Illuminati symbol.
I can’t decide if this is Jesus or Slash from Guns N’ Roses.
Riding in Ruins: A Taksizis in Athens
I’m probably going to have a number or Greek city stories, so I might as well start with one of the first to stand out in memory. Every city boasts taxi cab stories, and I’m not here to rerun that cliché. I will, though, tell you some Athenian taxi cab flavor that I’ve enjoyed. Not talking about the smoking in the cab with the windows closed. (Don’t smoke? Well you are a smoker by default in Athens. Spend some time living there, and cigarettes look mighty good by the time you leave. Don’t be surprised if you need a nicotine patch to get you through the first two weeks back home.) I’m not commenting on the fact that you share your cab in Athens with whoever can fit and is picked up on the way. That, to me, is a delightful way to minimize traffic, greenhouse gases, and is just plain common sense. Let’s get the rest out of the way so I can get to my story: a lot of them are Mercedes Benzes and a lot are not, you often yell your destination to them as they pass to see if they are going your way… Greeks on this blog-you fill the rest in. Meanwhile, here’s one of my first rides in an Athenian cab: Riding in Ruins: A Taksizis in Athens – continue reading …
