urban living

Re: Nah, this sucks…

A fragment in English.

I hesitate to write poetic texts in English as I am not an English speaking native. This fragment ended up in an un-numbered notebook due to a conversation some time ago with a friend from Brooklyn who sort of suggested I should write something in English, maybe.

The experience convinced me that probably I shouldn’t do that.

Later today I did it anyway. Listening to an album by Nala Sinephro and absentminded browsing the works of Elsa & Johanna then, as I cleaned up my room, I stumbled on my discarded off-piste notebook and messed around with it a bit.

The title is due to the fact that I mailed it to myself, corrected something, then replied, still agreeing that it most likely sucked.

However I think the title is nice, well, you know, so…

Music I listened to: Space 1.8, Nala Sinephro , Warp Records WARP324.

(Note that this is not an opinion on Nala Sinephro’s music — I totally love Nala Sinephro., She has her heart in her music… It is absolutely wonderful what she and the other musicians on that recording have created so the title below is about my writing reflection as described …)

Re: Nah, this sucks…

Oh yes I know
Why are you saying that?
I don’t know
But you just said, you know?
I know

Those were the moments
when wine drunk me

Now there is nowhere to turn
as even nothing has been taken

What to remember what to keep
if there is none to remember it for?

I’m not that poor
yet
I can make another tea
throw the rest out
we can squeeze Earth
a bit more
won’t be room for all of us
but those remaining would
have global heating and
forever float in pink hot fudge
polystyrene foam
everywhere
happy bubbles
no need to buy
rubber ducks
we can go
to the beach
and have a swim
among all of them
in space
the oceans
giant vaginas and penis fish
chasing love
in lukewarm caffè latte dosed
with plastic pellets
manga
creatures
mystical

Look!

I know that one they
said it had talent
could be a star
failed spectacularly
imploded to
black holes
the rap music
beyond horizons of events
dancing
words
stillness
a palace of space
is turning turning
turning

blue

Paris and the tale of paradoxical noise regulations

Guys, do something!

Look, people, politicians, it must be possible to put together the best scientists and engineers and ask them to find the most environmental low-noise and non-polluting way to build and repair structures in urban areas, to be really smart and innovative about it?

This surely must be doable, a solvable task? Like what about modularization? The old masters of masonry knew how to do this smart.

Why isn’t this problem attacked, it is a very interesting problem!

This situation is absurd in many ways.

To mention one then there is this thing which is so hilariously nutty that it drives me insane: All construction sites use a diesel driven power generator to drive their tools, the concrete drills, the electrical saws and so on – and they do this in a town complete with MASSIVE nuclear power-plant backed huge electrical power-grids supplying things like subway trains, le Metro, and le putain de TGV the brilliant national high-speed electrical train network (?!).

Why, just WHY, do they need a messy DIESEL generator designed to withstand conditions on remote outposts on freaking Mars to run an electrical power drill here, in the middle of an urban area?? So much in the middle of electricity-heaven that they have to carefully study detailed 3d-maps to actually AVOID drilling into high-voltage iron and f****** die.

Now add to this picture that info-board; a digital info-board on our neighborhood corner educating us, the citizens, about the 60 bucks of fine you get if you cause … (ta-daa) noise-pollution.

Yes, they said it, la Ville de Paris: noise-pollution is a felony.

However, you see, that is not about the … beyond maximum outdoor mega death metal hard rock concert level construction site machinery from 7am year upon year that make entire buildings shake, nor is it the amazingly penetrating bone-marrow splintering wrrrroum of angry male gasoline consuming die-hard scooterists you can hear loud and clear at least three blocks away all over the place (and do beware never to approach such a creature; they are the incarnation of toxic masculinity on steroids and will happily send themselves to jail, ruin their lives, and yours too, should you comment on anything while they scooterize their urban war theater called French traffic).

No, not that kind of (permanent) TEMPORARY noises which are NECESSARY, because, something … yes, actually, why? (And why can’t we do better?)

But that’s not it. This is not the noise pollution la Ville de Paris talk about so kindly on the info-board.

That thing is – those illegal urban noises they are things like: street musicians (say, if we imagine a violinist, a guitar dude, or what-so-ever, can actually be heard over the scooters and diesel-drilling…), people having a good time talking and laughing at terraces late in the evening (people, like people, in a town, which is what you’d expect, no?), children playing (right, that is bad!), boom-boxes and hip-hop dancing, basket-balling, love making for open windows and so on. In other words, the leisurely ‘noise-pollution’ humans make when they have a life, noises you can actually bust someone for doing without hurting the economy (I guess?), and give them a fine.

See? It is insane; this is insane. This is definitely not bio.

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