Saturday, July 1, 2017

Day 26 -- Mayonnaise for Breakfast




B E R L I N ! ! !

Getting to Berlin was extra special fun.  A ferry!  A beautiful day!  Sail boats sailing!  mayonnaise for breakfast!  Sure there was granola, yogurt, schintzel, all likely boiled in a bag somewhere in the berth of ship...but who wants to eat any of that crap when there's mayonnaise?

Yes there were "fritz"--which were their own disaster...but in the presence of that white jiggling mound the fritz were secondary.  We are all secondary in the presence of that white jiggling mound.

And what's that you say?  You never eat mayonnaise for breakfast but today you ate the mayonnaise available on the ferry?  And what's that you say?  You have a "mala"And you think it's from the mayonnaise?

Very fucking strange!  And SUPER interesting!  Tell us more!!!

For all the fun, fresh air, mayonnaise and wonderful beauty of the ferry ride, I for one had no defence against the inescapable notion that mankind does not belong on top of or underneath the water.  If Fukushima is any indication, mankind does not even belong close to the water.  Then there are (were) the coral reefs.  And of course all of us still have Outrage at Valdez, right?

Berlin!  What ever you do, don't call it "Brooklyn with better trees."  That will cause wincing in the audience!  And besides, how dare anyone, least of all an Americanino ignorant = dumb know nothing shitter arounder, never been anywhere idiot, compare anywhere in Europe to anywhere in the United States?  Even if the stench of piss is identical from the piss stench of the Lower East side of that "fourth world shit hole" we all love to hate so much.

In addition, people were out in numbers...walking in between traffic, waking beneath traffic (there was an elevated roadway near the venue)...till 2am!  Berlin is a city!

However it appeared that not one poster advertising the show was posted anywhere in the entire city of Berlin--least of all the for-other-gigs poster covered door of the venue.  According to the promoter "posters don't work" and are "a waste of paper" (just like my resume.)

This sentiment was not shared unanimously.  The part about the posters, that is.  There is unanimous sentiment as to the uselessness of my resume.

Like I give a fuck!  About any of it!  300 people, 13 people...all look same dot com to me!  Just 287 less audience members to horrify with my Americanino out of pot pissing booolshittery.

If memory serves correct, there was a recording made of the performance.  I for one have not received a copy of said recording.  But then again, I am a non-share holder to whom delivery of recordings is not compulsory, not to mention an out of pot pissing Americanino know-nothing ignorant=dumb crippled dog.  Maybe the good gentleman at the venue destroyed the recording once the performance was over?  Maybe he erased my track?  You can do that with science nowadays.

That said, If anyone has a copy of said recording, I probably won't love hearing it, but it might be a good reminder of what a horrendous person/musician/pisser I am and, in that instance, might make me think twice about recklessly ruining everything with my inability to assess what is appropriate in any given musical situation to say nothing of my inability to execute those wrong, boolshit americanino non-ideas.

Sadly, as with most places, there wasn't much time to take in all the joys of Berlin--save for Turkish pastries at midnight.  We did manage to see a large airfield where a still beloved German leader most famous for his jaunty moustache used to do "things".  In the 18 or so hours we were there, I did not manage to learn how to speak German.  A pity, because what possibly could be gayer that reading The Gay Science in it's original language? 

Of the vanity of artists. -- I believe that artists often do not know what they can do best, because they are too vain and have fixed their minds on something prouder than those small plants seem to be that really can grow on their soil to perfection and are new, strange and beautiful.  They do not think much of what is actually good in their own garden or vineyard; and their love and insight are not of the same order.
 The Gay Science, #87

Then of course there are those Americanino artists who can do nothing not only because of vanity, but because they have no mind to fix on anything, an errant pissing mechanism and the inability to love or have any insight what so ever.  They are worse.  The worst?

No pictures, as the camera batter charger is lost, a fact of which I was only reminded 3 times.

In bed, 3:30 am.

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