Guitar Wolf - Jet Generation
LOCK N LORRRRLLLL!!!
THE BEAST FROM THE EAST
Having been born and brought up on an island I still find land borders a rather difficult concept to get my head round. Before anyone protests,
You might think that the locals would have jumped at every opportunity to make use of their relatively new-found geographical mobility, but that hasn’t entirely come to fruition. Of course, people here do cross borders, but often in a very limited manner. The older generation of Czechs in particular are accustomed to a peculiarly unadventurous form of travel – the bus excursion. I’ve experienced a couple of these myself and have to acknowledge their one great advantage, i.e. they’re very, very cheap. There are disadvantages however. One is considerable discomfort, since if it’s over any longer distance it will involve an overnight bus journey both there and back in order to save money on accommodation. Nobody’s complaining here, though I felt a mixture of admiration, slight shame and trepidation on seeing the age of some of those preparing for this physical ordeal. Another drawback is the acute lack of freedom on these occasions. The atmosphere is like that of a school trip, ruled over with a rod of iron by a bossy schoolmarm tour guide* with an extreme case of verbal diarrhoea and a neat line in in-bus sleep deprivation tactics, marching her bleary-eyed lemmings through the streets at breakneck pace, bombarding them with copious volumes of sublimely uninteresting minutiae and chastising any miscreants foolhardy enough to be guilty of tardiness. The only conclusion I could draw from it was that Czech pensioners actually enjoy being treated like seven year old children.
Naturally this is not the only travel option taken by the Czechs, but the locals (and again, age plays a large role) here seem equally herd-like when it comes to their choice of destination. So although I’ve met very few Czechs who’ve never been to
These days, in
Slavic brothers and sisters! Free yourselves! The greatest borders are the ones in your minds!
*On a trip to Venice several years ago now our guide, for example, gave us practical advice on clothing to wear, reminding us that “it’s better to be dry than to be wet”, as well as which she informed and entertained us by reading out Karel Čapek’s musings on Venice amongst other things. During a rare break from fulminating into the microphone she kept us awake in the bus by playing us a video of populist Czech media personality Halina Pawlowská’s guide to
Nothing like a bit of German austerity to set things right.
Actually, is modern life rubbish?
I think mostly, yes, and a number of things have been swimming round my head these last few days on that theme, which I’ll try to put into some sort of order. These have included not only the Impostume’s recent, uncharacteristically psychotic and expletive-riddled outbursts (good show old boy!), but also some experiences of my own, partly in connection with the demon technology. One thing that really pissed me off last weekend on a train ride to (and back from)
Ah of course, I could be a liberal fence-sitter and acknowledge how great technology can be, and it can, but is that the point? Why should it be shit? Why should anything be shit? So to the next techno bitch ready for a good slapping, easy fucking jet. Yes, you cuntheads, let’s address the issue of your website. How stupid do you think we are when your “contact us” button leads us to a number of pre-arranged questions you’ve designed? To maximise our comfort, no doubt. Like we should be grateful that you’ve absolved us of the cumbersome responsibility of thinking up our own inquiries. You know you don’t believe that. And you know we don’t believe that. It’s one of those grim, stoically hypocritical marriages. “I know you know I know we both despise each other and have been sleeping with everyone we know except one another for the last ten years, but we’ll soldier on just so long as nobody actually says it out loud”. Let’s just admit it you cynical Nazis, this is a fucking war. You don’t want to make life more convenient for us, you just want to make it as convenient as possible for yourselves. With your rigged questions you’ll do virtually anything to avoid facing a direct inquiry as to why you’re so shit. Now naturally your answer’s going to be something like “we just want to save time and cut costs to make life easier and cheaper for you”, whereas what you mean is “we don’t want to employ anyone who has the skills to answer your questions because that would cut into our profits too much, so we’ll fend you off with a computer generated banality. And don’t get cocky, if you don’t like it you can fuck off and pay (at least) twice the price with British Airways – a truly ethical airline! You come to us for cheap flights, not good customer service!”. And cheap bastard that I am, it’s a deal I’m more than ready to accept. But I’d be much happier if you just owned up about it.
Wait a minute… wasn’t that Impostume weirdo going on about how there’s too much good service about? Well FUCK THAT SHIT!! What does he know about anything? Seriously though, having lived in a post-communist state for over 12 years now, I’ve had my fair share of bad service, and to be frank, I don’t see why I should put up with any more. Fine, in shitty, soulless supermarkets I don’t want to be drooled over by some obsequious twat or be bludgeoned with insincere, fatuous chirpiness by some poor fool who clearly has no more enthusiasm for such bullshit than I do, but on the other hand I, unlike a great deal of public servants here, can’t see what’s wrong with being polite. Let’s take restaurants. Now these days I have no idea how much waiters are earning back in the West, but I do know that here in CZ the wages they’re earning are certainly better than those earned by supermarket checkout drones. And don’t get me wrong, some of them do a bloody good job. But others are right shitheads.
Let me start from the beginning. When I first came out to “
If it’s any consolation to the Czechs (I don’t want to slag off your country, honest!), the situation was worse in Poland, where we not only had to pay more than double Czech prices for almost undrinkable piss beer, but despite being paying customers were in one case charged extra to use the pub toilet. To which we chose the only possible dignified response, i.e. since we were sitting in the beer garden we merely hopped over the railings and pissed against a tree in the park, in full view of the waiter.
Bollocks to the Impostume! Long live good service! Proles, lick my balls!