The harder they come, aka The Grotto

Wednesday, 17th of January 2018. It’s been a while, but here’s a new book to read eventually. The Grotto is an experimental piece of work, as to be expected, it’s bilingual, molecular, hazy and metamodern, of course. On top of that, The Grotto is somewhat of a historic document by now, written down in the last days of what they call the Pre-Trump America, long lost and forgotten.
Special shoutouts go to Pietro O’Rourke from Hamtramck, Michigan, for his patient editing, to Gonzalo de la Fuente for the groot cover drawing, and last but not least to Sebastian Schellenberger from Heidelberg, for his loving care on the difficult homestretch in the printing process.
Here’s some more details on the book and where to get it.



United Nations Day

Close to high noon in Dab City U.S.A.
Still seeking shade from the Rocky Mountain sun, still at the base of the All-American flagpost, still in the very center front of Union Station, still turned all upside down everything. The same old Union Station, or is it, all new and shiny, where I last got off from the the California Zephyr, some five years to the date, the year before they went all recreational in the state of Colorado.
In the state of today, there’s Ten Thousand People coming in here every month, the Steve Jobs lookalikes will keep telling you on the all new busses turning into the all new bus stations, not even counting The Hobos. But that’s only what I didn’t say.
And all of this is happening just because of the weed, I asked the Steve Jobs lookalike, who said he had taken a class on the roots of all this cannabusiness, but I couldn’t tell if he had figured it out or if it just had gotten him  more confused. Nobody can tell, not even me, better to curb my attitude before it even starts building up. Read more →

Modern Day Tom Sawyer

61’ Hi Freaks, says the modern day Tom Sawyer. He knows the panic rooms to their shitshow, he’s been all over them high country airports.
What he still doesn’t know is what’s really cooking out there at Denver International, halfway into Kansas. 
Do they just pad it down on Peña Boulevard, do they simply think otherwise, do they talk in code, like all the way on Arizona Two Six Four?
What he doesn’t know still is which type of pretzel logic they fancy, building museums of their own breed, where obscurity goes up on trial. They is a strong word in just any conspiratorial stance, the strongest one in all the facts behind the facts. They, with all the dark powers on their invisible hands. Building a showroom of theyr very own device is such a smart move on behalf of the secretive society, visitors are welcome indeed. It is at the same time the cut-throat argument of any deluded moron dealing in alternative truth, because he can always argue that THEY just did that, build that exact showroom, to hide THEYR true intentions and underhanded agendas. Read more →

Transfiguration Associates (2011)

RIPPLES RUN ACROSS THE PUDDLES, as I am walking down Flushing Avenue in Brookland, Tuesday after my brief excursion to Philly. I’ve sassily occupied the couch at Metropolitan House, expert at irreverent self-invitation that I’ve become. Also, there was no other way, so I had to ask, it’s the best way, a thief asking thieves on a hangover afternoon, all out front.
Da, said Macha when I called her on the telephone later on, but then she was half asleep, toasting her bread in the pan in a living room without windows. This splendid creamy state of a transient mind. She only speaks Russian in her dreams and thought it was her father calling. Which might be true after all, at half my age it’s scary to witness how much she knows. Eventually, I hope, she’s the last of the news sisters in this global village of fine lines and close misses.
In New York, you can walk the streets all day, as Allen Ginsberg said, but it will turn night before you start crying. “Or dat you zee da soul of da hauzes”, as the Belgian Kid would put it in her unmistakable chopped accent.
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All Hail The President

“This generation may be the one that will face Armageddon.”
– Ronald Reagan, 1985

Wie lange dauert eine Generation noch mal genau? 30 Jahre, oder? Ist unser Armageddon also schon vorbei, oder steht es kurz bevor? Wer weiß das schon, wo doch niemand mehr irgendwas wirklich weiß. Im weißen Haus, da hockt bald einer, dem in guten wie schlechten Momenten so gut wie alles zuzutrauen ist. Read more →

Western Video Market (2016)

Ausnahmsweise sind die Jungs mal etwas nervös. Das kommt ansonsten nicht vor, dabei sind wir eigentlich immer zu spät unterwegs, mindestens aber knapp, eben gerade so eben. Heute nur ist es ein wenig anders, der andere hat schon angerufen. Die Ladung stehe jetzt zur Abholung bereit. Da muss tatsächlich auch die sonst so heilige Laid-back-attitude mal über die Klinge springen.

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Düsseldorf International

Die Dinge beim Namen nennen, das ist immer noch sexy.
Sonntag früh im deutschen Herbst, zu früh für das System, das vermeintlich nie schläft.
Vor mir liegen 24 Stunden in der globalisierten Flughafenwelt, die heute ja niemand mehr haben will, sagen wenigstens die Rechtspopulisten, an allen Fronten auf dem Vormarsch.
Ich selbst, mein neues Selbst, gleitet beinahe lautlos durch diese Welt aus Glas und Stahl.
I used to be different but I am now the boy who can enjoy invisibility.

Das hängt mit den ganzen Schwierigkeiten zusammen oder wie man ihnen regelmäßig begegnet. Resilience nennt man das, Standhaftigkeit ohne Halsstarre, biegsame Widerstandskraft, lockere Schultern bei festem Stand.
Nicht in Problemen denken, sondern in Lösungen, das hört sich nun an wie aus dem Managerhandbuch für Samurai. Vorsichtig, but not too worried, das ist schon besser und mir total egal, wie es sich anhört.
Der Kern des Problems ist die Lösung. Bei genauerem Hinschauen. Es entwickelt sich mit ein bisschen Hardcore Engelsgeduld bald zum Sport, irgendwie so halt.
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