The secret to a succesful life

Dead horses don't talk.

Dead horses don't talk, however much you beat them.

They take you downtown for a stroll, risen by necromantic powers.

Their eyes do rot, and liquefy and hang loosely from their sockets.

Their flanks are bared down to the bone and dogs jump up to tear them.

The flesh that hangs there limply is cold, yet they just keep on strolling.

Dead horses do not talk.

Around and round they do take you for a stroll, dead horses from their slumber risen.

Flailed to death they toil away, carrying memories; trinkets.

The horses pass through our deserted streets, not talking, not making a sound.

Who knows why and whither.

Dead horses do not talk, they walk away and wither.

More.

When I angst and cry and rage against the time that goes by,
people call me crazy, and take my lament for ungratefulness.

When I paint a verbal portrait of the world through the colors of nostalgia,
I am kindly, or harshly, reminded by all to stay in the present.
The same goes for my dreams and anxiousness for things to come.

But is there a greater sign of loving life?
I rage because I want more.
I angst because I want more.
I am nostalgic because I enjoyed living it.
I am projecting in the future because I want to live more.

I am unsatisfied, unfulfilled but not ungrateful.
I just want more because I enjoy it.
Every single laugh, every single breath, every single tear.
And the thought that I might progressively enjoy them less, that I am going to be less grateful for every moment, and that at some point there will be no more moments both stresses me and increases the value of the moments lived and the moments yet to be lived.

So I say, do not judge me harshly. I complain, I rage, I angst and elevate, all out of love.

The random fish.

There once was a fish, stranded on land, dying.

A cat went by, thinking to release the fish from its misery, and fill up her stomach with food;

A little boy went by, and stopped the cat from eating the fish, scarring it.

The fish was still dying, so the boy went away to search for his mother.

A little girl stumbled upon the fish.

"Oh you little creature, how did you end up in this land?"

The fish stood there gasping, its gills unable to process the oxygen out of the air.

Being brave, she took the fish in her arms and dropped it into a pond.

The fish stood there in the water, motionless at first, enjoying its freshness, then stating moving happily.

The boy and the mother came and saw the girl and were happy for the saved fish.

The cat caught a mouse and was also happy.

The mouse was happy because it had terminal cancer and wanted to end his life as soon as possible.

The only sad person in this story is me, for I now wonder how the fuck this fish came to be stranded on land and why it forced me to write this story.

Ναι, Ριτ.

Χαχαχαχαχαχαχα...

Για δείτε εδώ: http://www.nerit.gr/

EDIT:

Για μερικές μέρες στο site αυτό εξέπεμπε η παλιά καλή ΕΡΤ!

Ελληνική Ραδιοτηλεώραση.

Πάει το ουράνιο τόξο. Περίεργη η πρώτη αντίδραση του εγκέφαλού μου. Στεναχωριέμαι για μια παιδική εκπομπή που δεν έβλεπα ποτέ...

Σαν όνειρο μου φαίνεται. Μια περίεργη πραγματικότητα που απέχει από την Ελλάδα που ήξερα.
Πέντε χρόνια λείπω. Δεν γνωρίζω τα δημοφιλή τραγούδια, δε γνωρίζω τους πολιτικούς, δε γνωρίζω τις νέες εκφράσεις.

Έχω μείνει πριν τη κρίση. Κάθε φορά που μιλάω με φίλους και γνωστούς μου φαίνονται λόγια ασυνάρτητα σχεδόν. Πέρασε η αγανάκτηση των αγανακτισμένων, εγκαταστάθηκαν τα χρυσά αυγά σε κάθε γειτονιά, με γραφεία κόμματος (που τα βρήκαν τα λεφτά; ποιος τους πληρώνει και τους παρακινεί; τι συμφέρον έχει; γιατί άμα δε γουστάρουν τους μετανάστες δε τους πληρώνουν εισιτήρια για να φύγουν αντί να ανοίγουν γραφεία αριστερά δεξιά; Οι περισσότεροι νόμιμοι μετανάστες άλλο πράγμα δε θέλουν! Λεφτά τους λείπουν για να φύγουν. Καλά, μην απαντήσετε δεν έχει νόημα, παρεκτρέπομαι.) Περάσανε ένα σκασμό μέτρα άνευ νοήματος. Πανικόβλητη κυβέρνηση, με άτομα που ακόμα δεν έχουν καταλάβει πως το προηγούμενο παιχνίδι που παίζανε, την εποχή με τις παχιές δανεικές αγελάδες δε βαστάει ο τόπος να το συνεχίσουν, ή που το έχουν καταλάβει και αδιαφορούν πλήρως. Ας αρπάξουμε όσο προλαβαίνουμε ακόμα.

Και μέσα σε όλα αυτά, τι μένει;
Πραγματικά τίποτα. Τα ακούει ο κόσμος από τη τηλεόραση με μια τρομακτική μουσική υπόκρουση για να ξέρει και ο πιο ηλίθιος ότι τα νέα είναι δυσάρεστα, τα ξανακούει ξανά και ξανά. Δεν υπάρχει ελπίδα, δεχτείτε τα νέα μέτρα και τα συναφή.

Και τώρα κλείνουν την ΕΡΤ. Σίγουρα η ΕΡΤ δεν ήταν προσοδοφόρα επιχείρηση τη ώρα που έκλεισε. Αλλά όταν κλείνεις την κρατική τηλεόραση, έτσι, με το καλησπέρα σας,

κάτι ήθελα να γράψω. Κάπου ήθελα να καταληξω. Αλλά δυστυχώς δεν υπάρχει κάποιο συμπέρασμα που θέλω να βγάλω. Η κατάσταση είναι οικτρή, αλλά το κράτος είναι εργαλείο του έθνους και όχι το αντίθετο. Όταν ένα εργαλείο χαλάει είτε το επισκευάζεις, είτε, όταν δε παίρνει άλλες επισκευές, το αλλάζεις.

Τα κτήρια είναι εκεί. Κατάληψη από τους εργαζόμενους, χρήση ως έχει και βλέπουμε. Αυτό θα ήθελα. Άμα η αστυνομία πάει κόντρα θα είναι ένα νέο πολυτεχνείο. "Εδώ ΕΡΤ εδώ ΕΡΤ ο σταθμός που εκπέμπει για τους πολίτες, τα τανκς μπουκάρουν από στιγμή σε στιγμή στο προαύλιο."

Καλό μας κουράγιο.

Όταν κι εάν.

Όταν δε μένει τίποτα μα τίποτα πλέον το δικό μας,
Και χαμένοι περιδιαβαίνουμε σε πόλεις μακρινές,

Οι αναμνήσεις, απόφλουδα, 
                                     θ' αποσυντήθονται στο στον ήλιο.
Ως να χαθεί η θύμηση της θρέψης,
               ως να βρεθούμε άξαφνα ν' ανοίκουμε σε άλλους.

Τότε, ρημαγμένοι έως το είναι μας, θα είναι πλέον αργά,
                                να ζήσουμε το τέλος της Οδύσσειας.

Τότε, ξεχασμένοι από όλους και από εμάς,
Τότε, φρούδες ελπίδες η τροφή μας και λήθη,
Τότε, μια καινή επανάσταση στο κενό.

The steam-sprung revolution: Introduction.

An average human being generally does not change the course of humanity. An average human's mark on history, our very own mark on history, fades away within a few generations.

However there are some brilliant people whose pioneering ideas become integral to the furtherment of  human society. Sir Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Leonardo da Vinci are examples of such visionaries.

nanos gigantum humeris insidentes
Orion carrying his servant.

And an even bigger number of such visionaries have lived in ancient times, and their ideas still echo and influence us today. Aristotle, amongst other things thought, for example, of classifying senses in five groups, and although we know of senses escaping this classification, we still defer to his teachings.

Of these Giants, Heron of Alexandria, while of lesser fame, is the one that could have changed human history the most. He is considered the greatest experimenter of antiquity and his work is representative of the Hellenistic scientific tradition. His inventions include hydraulic pressure doors, the first vending machines of the world and the first wind-operated jukebox. He dabbled in many fields, from optics, to mathematics, to something akin to robotics. However his most important invention was the Aeolipile.

It was the first steam engine, more than a thousand years before our industrial revolution. His invention remained as an exhibit in a temple, its power never truly harnessed.

It took humanity over a millennium to reproduce Heron's technological advances.

This leads us to wonder: what if in a reality similar to ours, a scientist, a genius equivalent to Heron, thought of connecting his Aeolipile with a wheel, and went on to create the first trains, cars and factories. He, like Heron, would have had the skills in robotics to fully industrialize the ancient world.

Welcome to the world of Steam-sprung, set in a world where the industrial revolution happened at 100 A.D.

Post-doctoral cramps

This must be what marathon winners must feel like.
You run and you run and you run some more. Things stop making sense, yet you persevere, knowing you will reach the end. You ignore the pain, you ignore the losses, you ignore your body.
For, somewhere beyond the horizon, somewhere beyond the pain, is a terminus, an end, a reception.

Your friends will be there, there will be food and joy and fun.
Your family will be there, to mark your achievement.

You will cross the barrier. A barrier that awaits those who thought they might one day try it, who believe that if they want they can do it, no problem. You feel pride, and you are being arrogant. Yet these thoughts are in the background, getting drown and lost in the moments of pain and work that remain.

And suddenly, when it has been hours and days and eternities since you thought "feh, I will never make it", yet you still carry on, the finish line is there at the horizon. Not behind it anymore, but at the horizon. You can see it.

You run, you stumble and gather the remaining forces you do not really have, to finish in beauty.
Last hurdle.
The last of the last hurdles.

You get there, and you are greeted by the people that you thought were just watching you run.

You realize they were not leisurely watching you, but actually they were running their own marathons. But still.

The elation is there. It is an ending. You celebrate. Your body is full of endorphins to dull the pain. So you celebrate.

And the next day, the pain starts.
And worse than the pain, the realization.

There is no more finish line beyond the horizon. You are free.
There is no more finish line anywhere. You are lost.

Your body knows only how to run. So you keep running blindly towards goals that people haphazardly suggest.

Time to find a new finish line and a new one after that and so on and so forth...

Yet even as you think these thoughts that spring from your ever forwards-propelling momentum;
even as you try to keep the meaninglessness of it all at bay by trying to find a new activity to obfuscate your worries;
even then, your mind wanders and wonders and dances with craziness:

Risking and losing yourself in love, in a simpler life, in a different path or sport or occupation, in different values and dreams.

But the end of the running period is always linked to those dreams.
The running soon resumes and propels you back to the land of the waking.
I am still unsure whether to be grateful or not for this.