Why so serious?
Nici un episod din Mireasa pentru fiul meu n-ar reusi sa aiba atata popularitate cat a avut o singura nunta din cele rasarite dupa Paste, cand toata lumea a iesit din post si s-a aruncat in sala de nunti. Nici una dintre dramele sentimentale, mimate prost din emisiunea ”numarul 1″ care te ajuta sa-ti gasesti perechea si sa mai afle si toata tara de asta nu se compara cu un episod din “Pepe remarried”, cu Oana Zavoranu comentand in fundal. Urari de bine pentru miri, ce altceva credeati?
Pentru ca s-a casatorit Pepe si fiind asa o mare celebritate si un grozav cantaret (isi mai aduce cineva aminte ultima oara cand acest latino-lover al muzicii romanesti a scos o melodie de succes? Nici eu.) a meritat sa afle tot poporul, sa vada toate detaliile. Ce mai, nici nu se putea casatori divul si proaspat proclamata diva-nevasta daca nu ii prezenta Maruta, in direct, toate aventurile de la petrecere. In mod clar nu putea spune “Da” daca nu il privea tot poporul si nu proclama sus si tare scorul darurilor, de spuneai ca e jackpot la jocurile de noroc. In mod clar mireasa n-ar fi putut fericita daca nu vedeam si noi, mare cat ecranul televizorului, cum i se mangaie “burta de graviduta”, de parca nici nu s-au mai vazut femei insarcinate pana acum si era ea detinatoare unui mister universal.
Dar daca e Happy Hour atunci sa dam poporului circ si paine, sub forma unei nunti. Ma rog, numai circ, ca painea au mancat-o numai invitatii. Paine de cateva sute de euro meniul, ca doar nu era sa treaca evenimentul fara sa aflam si noi ce se afla in farfuriile alea. Nu iti faci nunta in direct, nu existi, sac!
Iar ca sa fie telenovela perfecta s-a asezonat dragut cu o Oana Zavoranu comentand in fundal cum ca fost-barbatul ei, actual-sot al alteia un pic insarcinata e de fapt nefericit. Tot pe ea a iubit-o Jose Antonio Fernando Gonzalez de Ay Ya Yay. “Cine are noroc are, cine n-are n-are” ar fi trebuit sa fie cu siguranta coloana sonora a evenimentului. Oana n-a (mai) avut, se pare. Cui mai canta ea acum “Tu esti soarele meu, tu esti viata mea?”.
Dar cand credeam si noi ca o nunta in direct ne-a ajuns, hopa mai vine inca una. Ploua cu nunti dupa Paste si toate in direct.
Nicoleta Luciu s-a maritat tot live si a chemat toata Romania la nunta, la televizor. Dupa patru copii frumosi si o relatie de lunga durata (de apreciat, de altfel) i-a venit si ei vremea sa se imbrace in rochie de mireasa. Rochie careia jurnalistii i-au stiut precis firma si lungimea si toate celelalte detalii. Genul acela de mireasa filmata obsesiv de televiziuni din toate unghiurile, pazita de luptatori K1. Genul acela de mireasa despre a carui sfarc scrie Libertatea.
Dar clar, o mare personalitate, sa curga deci cerneala in ziare si posturile in online. Dar mai ales sa filmeze emisiunile, sa dea pseudo-stirea obsesiv. In distanta dintre sanii Nicoletei Luciu si luptatorii K1 s-a infiltrat la un moment dat un cetatean cu o gaina, respectand un mare obicei de nunta. Aparent au fost intorsi inapoi din drum. Si oh, cat de interesat e poporul de acest detaliu si cum trebuia sa stim noi totul!
Ah, voi celebritati neaose!
In caz ca va intrebati, transmiterea in direct a nuntii lui Pepe a avut 3 milioane telespectatori. Eu zic ca daca reusim sa mai casatorim vreo cateva vedete in direct poate ajungem si noi curand la cei 24 milioane ai printului William si printesei Kate din regat.
Baieti, presa la usa bisericii si diamantele la vedere!
Sursa poza: Libertatea.
Atentie: continut extrem de relevant! Trateaza subiecte super-serioase si se pliaza exact pe nevoile cititorilor. Asta asa, sa nu spuneti ca nu v-am avertizat! 
De ce se marita fetele intre ele pe Facebook?
De ce sunt atat de multi oameni care nu citesc tonele de documente pe care le semneaza? Ntz, ntz…
De ce toti romanii vor o schimbare, dar nici unul dintre ei n-ar misca un deget pentru asta?
De ce e Kim Kardashian celebra? (De ce? De ce? De ceee???)
De ce dragul de cioban moldovean s-a apucat sa-si scrie testamentul in loc sa-si angajeze un bodyguard?
De ce duduile umbla pe strada in fuste de-o palma si cu gecile descheiate cand dardaie din toate incheieturile?
De ce toti “intelectualii” contemporani se ascund in 2012 sub nick-uri ciudate, lasand comentarii pe internet, dar nefiind in stare sa demonstreze nimic in persoana? Ah, tu, razboinicule de online!
De ce capra vecinului e intotdeauna mai ochioasa?
De ce nu intelege nimeni ca “fighting for peace it’s like having sex for virginity”?
De ce autobuzul de care ai nevoie nu vine intotdeauna la timp?
De ce are Dan Diaconescu audiente fabuloase daca nimeni nu se uita “la prostia aia”?
De ce smartphone-urile nu ne fac mai destepti? Costa mult, ce-i drept, sa fii smart.
De ce vrea toata lumea sa fie celebra? De ce celebritatile ajung la dezintoxicare?
Si la final, cea mai mare nedumerire: de ce cele mai bune idei vin exact atunci cand esti ocupat pana la cer si inapoi si someaza in timpul liber?
Aici gasiti si Runda 1
Pe voi ce va ma doare?
PS: Era sa uit.
Disclaimer: acesta este un pamflet.
De ceva vreme circula pe net un filmulet cu actrita Maria Dinulescu, “prezentandu-si viata” care se rezuma la o baie in “pisicina” si priviri filosofice de pe acoperisul unei cladiri, la rasarit.
Din ingredientele minunatului videoclip nu lipsesc actrita in costum de baie, engleza ei stalcita pana la gradul de dialect al unui taram descoperit doar de ea si o filosofie de viata… vasta.
Pe Youtube videoclipul este uploadat de un non-fan si prezentat sub titulatura :” Maria Dinulescu, narcisism, prostie si superficialitate la extrem!”
Asa sa fie?
Mie imi vine tare greu sa cred o actrita cu acest istoric si cu o echipa de PR in spate ar lansa asa, intr-o doara, un filmulet fara nici o noima. Filmulet care apare si pe site-ul ei. Prin urmare m-am apucat “sa fac cercetari” sa vad pe unde s-a mai prezentat, pe unde a mai vorbit, unde a mai dat interviuri.
Si rezultatul a fost tare diferit de ce am gasit in filmuletul sus-mentionat. Si cred (ma rog, oi fi eu o naiva si nu-mi dau seama) ca o persoana care reuseste sa aiba performantele pe care le are actrita in cauza, dispune totusi de o materie cenusie destul de consistenta.
Si atunci ma intreb: o fi asta o strategie de publicitate? Sa-i fi soptit in ureche echipa de PR “Tu, Maria, fa un pic pe prostuta sa se crizeze un pic publicul!” sau “Lasa, fata, citatele din Cioran, da-i pe engleza si mai inoata un pic seducator in piscina! Asa, asa, iesi pe balcon si priveste melancolic in zare!” ?
Pana ma dumiresc eu cu teoria asta a conspiratiei, filmuletul creste insa in faima.
Videoul ar fi putut o gafa inocenta, postat de actrita intr-un moment de exuberanta matinala (ca nu cunosc prea multi intelepti la prima ora), dar au intrat in scena bloggerii. Prin urmare se gasesc pe acelasi youtube o serie de remake-uri absolut delicioase, la care am ras ca la o comedie buna.
Preferatele mele sunt urmatoarele:
si
Lista completa de raspunsuri la videoclipul original o gasiti aici.
Voi ce spuneti: filmuletul e “pe bune”, sau doar o gaselnita publicitara?
Sursa foto: vedete-monden.com
This liquor, oh, this liquor! How it sways in our glasses, making us wanting it to last. How it lies to solve our problems, how it takes of our thoughts. Every sip takes away a part of us. Every drop is a promise of better things to come.
We smoke when we cannot kiss. We drink when we cannot touch. We get high when we find no other rush.
But the liquor comes in various doses, as the words of your enemies come crafted in voluptuous forms. Sometimes we carry it around us in form of beer. We make it join us at evening parties and long-awaited meeting with friends. We order it to help us laugh and ease our thirst in order to say the best joke or find an excuse for getting just a little bit tipsy.
Other times we ask for it in silhouette-shaped glasses and from overly handsome bartenders. Women like to mix a lil’ bit of real alcohol in their colored liquors when they go out with their best friends in their best attire. And they call it cocktails. For men… they like to buy it for the ladies as a way to introduce themselves. We’re all just a little bit idealistic and imagine that there really is a story behind Tequila Sunrise or Bloody Mary.
Sometimes we go classic. Wine has always been a friend, a deceiver, a smooth-tasted companion. We gulp down a glass of wine to prepare ourselves for a night to come, we heat it up and add cinnamon for the coldest days of winter. We can swallow a whole bottle of red wine if the situation requires it. If there’s no other way to have the guts to say the things we want to say and no other way do the things we want to do so badly. If red wine is the unwritten rule for being seduced, if white wine is your proud offering to your curious guests. Wine is for all the times when the sweetness of the grapes wasn’t enough.
And for real cases of rebellious times or screwed up life periods use becomes abuse. Beer becomes vodka and Tequila Sunrise just Tequila. If we’re young enough for our stomachs and livers to take it, no party can go on without a few shots. If we want to drown our sorrows some whiskey should do it for the night because the ones we loved won’t do anything for us anymore. Love problems, money problems, future problems, friends in trouble… every sip is for another issue, a way to delude ourselves that there is release from all that’s eating us up from the inside.
Just for the night.
It starts with water and beer and then it goes on with wine and vodka. Like lovers whose moves grow in intensity with each disregarded piece of clothing. The same way we raise the dose in search of something to more. For each word we swallowed we swallow some more beer. For every time we paralyze we take another step into dizziness.
I bet the liquor would have the best stories to tell. No skilled writer could match the raw emotion in all the stories that the bottles saw unfold. No body of a beautiful woman has been more cherished that a glass of wine when it was really needed. No bottle of Jack had been truthful and helpful to any of the avid consumers from this world. But everybody has a Tequila Story.
Write me a story about life from liquor’s point of view and I’ll show you the shame of this world. Then the raw emotions, the tumultuous nights, the broken hearts, the lost memories and the hope of a better dawn.
Just for the night.
In hope that you enjoyed it, two more things to say: 1. Enjoy your liquor with a certain measure and 2. No, I have not become an alcoholic.
Cumva, scandalul elevei care a pozat in Playboy duce mai toti barbatii cu gandul la toate nastrusnicele fantezii cu iubita in uniforma de scolarita. Ma gandesc ca poate e si mai inaltator cand cea care poarta uniforma (sau ma rog, o da jos repede) e chiar eleva.
S-a intamplat la Jean Monet, liceu “cu pretentii” din capitala, frecventat de mai toate odraslele de vedete sau politicieni. O domnisoara (slava Domnului! majora) a pozat cu nurii dezgoliti langa celebrul, atat de celebrul Radu Mazare. Prilej pentru toata tara sa caste ochii si pentru respectiva sa-si faca un pic de publicitate.
Pentru ca e greu, e atat de greu “sa ajungi sus!”, maica!
Prin urmare n-ar trebui sa ne mire ca domnisoara, tanara si frumoasa de altfel, a luat exemplul altor cateva zeci de “dive” nationale si s-a dezbracat putin pentru 15 minute de celebritate. Pentru viitoare pictoriale si interviuri in cateva tabloide. Pentru ca, nu-i asa, o poza spune cat o mie de cuvinte.
Si iti aduce nota 5 la purtare. Ntz, ntz, fata rea…
Vazand poza cu ea (varianta necenzurata zic) ma gandesc la prima pagina a ziarului Click, incununata mai mereu de o diva care si-a uitat sutienul acasa. Cu sani cat mai siliconati si bot cat mai evident. Ma gandesc la “asistentele” in mini skirts din mai toate show-urile romanesti, care se intind, se apleaca si se hlizesc in direct. Ma gandesc la toate videoclipurile cu Shake it like a bunny, shake it like a monkey, shake it like a…
Hai sa dam cu toatele din fund, sa ne propulsam in showbizznezzz, fatăh!
Asta venind din tara in care toata lumea arata cu degetul pe toata lumea lipindu-si in frunte diferite epitete. Venind din locul in care erotismul a murit, toata lumea face direct striptease. Venind din locul in care elevele de liceu nu-si mai pierd virginitatea, ci lucreaza direct part-time in cluburi de noapte. In care barbatii nu mai curteaza, platesc direct.
Va urma…
1.N-o sa stii niciodata ce s-a intamplat in timpul operatiei. N-o sa stii ce si-au spus doctorii intre ei si cat de adanc a taiat bisturiul. Dupa ce te trezesti nimic nu mai conteaza
2.In 9 cazuri din 10 nu vei sti niciodata cine ti-a zgariat masina.
3.Momentul exact in care ai fost conceput.
4.Persoana care te-a iubit fara in tacere fara sa sufle o vorba despre asta.
5.Numarul total de boli pe care ti le poate provoca hamburgerul pe care tocmai l-ai mancat.
6.Cine canta melodia aceea pe care ai auzit-o la radio si la care te gandesti de doua saptamani.
7.Daca vei pune in aplicare cele 1214 metode in care l-ai marca pe viata pe colegul de servici care te enerveaza.
8.Cine a cumparat camasa aceea pe care o doreai cu tot sufletul tau.
9.If it’s going to be heaven or hell.
10. Stalkerii de pe Facebook.
Scary much? Feel free to add some more!
Sursa foto: postcultural.com
(A.S: written initially for my English class. The text can be read individually, but it’s even more spicy read after the great article of Bill Keller, from New York Times. Enjoy! )
The Twitter Trap
I must declare, before starting my essay, that when reckoning about which is going to be the main topic of my three pages work, my too infatuated with itself brain automatically started to process ideas like” have men really reached the moon?” or „I shall militate for the poor workers in Dubai!” It even went on a short lived mental expedition into the depths of the ocean life only to come back with… well the topic in process.
My work was going to bring up new, revolutionary ideas and was, for sure, going to get me the satisfaction of having pressed on a topic of a extreme importance to the world we live in.
And yet, I find myself writing about Twitter.
Have I fallen into the trap then?
Let’s debate, shall we?
In the name of the adaptation to the modern world (and being cool on the side) I have signed into Twitter about a year ago. I was mildly prejudiced against it then: a platform where everybody can write what they eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And other sort of things that no one cares about, but some people scream out to the world, just to feel listened. Ah, the wonders of Web 2.0!
Needless to say that me and my prejudices didn’t get along well with Twitter, and our online periods were limited. Sign in, check what your friends – as disinterested as you – have to say, sign out, move on.
But recently, after getting in touch with the professionals from the online environment, I found myself being a participant in a training on social media platforms. The outcome? Coming to realize God puts wonders in front of you, but you are the one who was to learn how to take the best out of them.
One of the trainers said the following :” On Facebook we are friends with people we went to school with. On Twitter we follow people we wanted (desperately so) to go to school with.”As some of the Bill Keller Twitter followers answered to him :”It depends on who you follow.”
Actually, it makes all the difference.
When used correctly Twitter can get you on a correct professional path. Those who use Twitter wisely follow mainly experts on their field area. People that have no interest (except in their extravagant days) to share the events of their last night out, but precious information about their domain. People that have an authority – or are building one – and tell you what information helped them get there. People that always know the latest news and sort out the most precious.
And you, as a very interested individual, thirsting for new things to learn can follow people that know all about your work field, people that share your passions, people that bring you first the latest news.
Institutions also have twitter accounts. Events too. Every little thing that happens, in every moment, Twitter knows it.
It’s up to you to discover the right people to follow.
Now, the second problem it’s about the “connectedness”, as Bill Keller puts it. But let’s get one thing clear at first: Twitter was not designed to get you more friends, help you meet your soulmate or drastically extend your number of acquaintances. You want to reach some people then, for sure, you have to say something pertinent too.
For example, the Communication department from NGO I’m volunteering came up with a simple, but (hopefully) effective Twitter Strategy. Follow the right people in the domain, retweet them, find similar information to share with them, and then invite them to our events under the umbrella of “same interests”. It helps when you’re the largest international NGO run by students, but does it work for the simple people too?
“The harder your work, the luckier you get,” they say. For one individual to attract the attention of an expert in his area of work, to “network” efficiently it is a vast work. That individual should learn to browse the web wisely, make sure he has a reasonable number of followers, make his tweets decent and insist diplomatically. Basically, it requires some social skills that are as efficient in real life too: diplomacy, persuasion, hard work. To create the connection you want with “the right people”.
Engage people though? Not in the revolutionary meaning of it.
You engage people by announcing a contest (which was what got me so keen on Twitter in the first place, and submitting to every interesting contest announced in the past month), a big event or… bring them under the hashtag of a football game (needless to say, not one of my favorites). By launching an accusation, or approaching a controversial topic.
Either way here is where Bill Keller is truly and deeply right: 140 characters don’t allow you to speak up your mind, mainly teach you to summarize and think like a copywriter or SEO professional.
There is a belief when it comes to Twitter: “Google before you Tweet is the new think before you speak.” Therefore, to use Twitter wisely you have to learn to use the whole web wisely.
I do not agree with the fact that social media replaces our efforts to memorize things. But with the incredible afflux of information that “attacks” us daily, living without some sorting filter can get us mad or lost among the new things we face day after day. Let’s not forget that, before Guttenberg, information was stable and not changing dramatically from a day to the next one. In his time culture, technology were things essentially defined and, yet again, stable.
Today information is ever –changing and ever growing. So much that a recent study brings shocking results :” the information that an IT student receives in his first year College it is, in an aprox. proportion of ¾, out of date by his fourth.” I wonder if Mister Keller wants us to learn by heart all of this.
I’ll admit though that the feeling of dopamine rush is pretty powerful in a world where multi-tasking (although proven impossible in practice, because it’s nothing else but a fast swapping between activities – another recent study) is a condition to be employed. If one of your tabs in Chrome or Mozilla is labeled as Twitter and, in 10 minutes you see “ (5)” updates then you know, you just know you’re going to pause whatever you work on and check on them.
There’s the mystery that gets us every time. Because on Twitter you never know what the links shared are all about (thanks to the special site that shorten into 7 or 8 characters links that would otherwise fill more than 140 characters). Then you open them up in a new tab and you find yourself involved with whatever you’re reading about. The two minutes stretch into five, five into ten, and when you finally wake up half an hour has flew by.
This is the essential trap.
As about the context of our generation I believe Bill Keller actually refers to the space that social media puts between us – long miles that lack real human connection – and he is right. But we mustn’t put this blame on a platform that hasn’t promised connection of this sort. Facebook or Yahoo Messenger, these two wonders of modern technology might or might not encourage connection outside virtual world.
A virtual world that emotionally affects us indeed, leaving us with a craving for that essential human need called affection. A craving that distorts our natural behavior and has us filling the void with excesses like overdrinking or one night stands. But the former it’s just a personal concluson (I pride myself on being a pretty good observer on the society around me).
Since we have to “give to the Caesar what rightfully belongs to the Caesar” we must not ask from Twitter what Twitter hasn’t promised us. Yes, people can organize Tweetmeets ( following in the footsteps of blogmeets) and they can try to connect with the people that dearly wished they’d known from high-school, but the true advantage of this social platform is the access to a filtered information.
We make it a trap by misunderstanding its purpose. By cultivating our lazy instincts and producing another type of “Coke and couch potatoes” generation, just that our drug is now the online environment.
Of course I wrote all of this while checking my Twitter updates. 
Eu as cataloga-o drept aparitia editoriala a lunii. Nu de alta, dar pun pariu ca face lumina in niste chestiuni savante deosebit de complicate. Nu stiu cum m-am putut abtine sa cumpar asemenea minunatie de revista “cea mai vanduta si citita revista pentru femei din Romania”, da?
Jenan— aaa, adica remarcabil.
Pentru cei interesati cu adevarat de subiect recomand Nancy Friday – My Secret Garden, o carte care a cam revolutionat unele lucruri la vremea ei. In nici un caz Click pentru femei.
Voi peste ce alte descoperiri miraculoase ati mai dat?
Ma distreaza teribil cand vad o femeie, in culmea nervilor cei mai naprasnici, ca priveste brusc inainte si incepe sa detoneze un “Bagami-as ….!”
Auch! Si acum hai sa radem.
Freud ii spune penis envy si vorbeste despre dorinta apriga a unor femei de a se fi nascut barbati. Undeva, pe la 3-5 ani, fetele realizeaza ca nu e de bine, n-au un penis si incep sa fie atasate de tati. Si apoi isi cam petrec viata dorind sa aiba puterea (cel putin sociala) pe care o au barbatii.
De aia poate si injuratura masculina. Suna mai puternic, mai amenintator sa spui ca-ti bagi tu ceva undeva decat sa trimiti pe cineva la origini. Cumva socheaza mai tare, pentru ca, logic, e de neinteles. Asa ca unii vor sta si se vor uita confunzi iar altii vor rade cu patos, ametiti de indrazneala asta feminina care vrea sa-i anuleze superioritatea. Celelalte femei ori se vor uita oripilate (“Cum poate o femeie sa vorbeasca asa?!), ori vor aproba tacut.
Pe mine ma amuza. Pentru ca daca esti femeie, ramai femeie, cu sau fara o injuratura.
Asa ca la fiecare
“Bagami-as…” raspund de fiecare data la fel:
“Ceva ce n-ai, undeva nu poti!”
Merge cam de fiecare data. Doar o singura prietena, la cei razboinici 1.55m ai ei s-a uitat la mine lung si mi-a raspuns indarjit:
“Imprumut!”
PS: Reciproca pentru barbati se numeste castration anxiety, dar nu vorbim despre asta acum.
Sursa poza: somethingcakes.blogspot.com
I feel like lying all day in bed with the most precious music in my headphones. Damn, music is addictively gooood!
All you can find on my Facebook wall are music and links. Oh, and quotes meant to fuel the good mood.
All I can do is write nonsenses and eat chocolate. And I just don’t care.
Oh, I try to be productive. I hate the sleep-eat-barbecue holiday tradition around here. So I read things. A lot of things from which I am meant to learn things. And I do.
But I… stare at amazing pictures, plan the next adventures and call my friends. We have hour-long talks and days long texting. Then we go out and stare at the cafe menus before we can decide. And we laugh and kiss each other’s cheeks affectionately.
We trade the city we’re in for new territories and we leave home without telling our parents the destination.
I watch movies and I know my life is going to be even better. I Skype with friends from out of country, and we all agree we’re going to be nomads for a long period still.
I read about successful people and wonder why they just boast, and don’t let other know how to “make it”. Telling me that, out of the blue, you came up with these amazing ideas and, suddenly, thousands of people found it appealing, just doesn’t work, honey. I want to know about those restless nights, about failed first tries and about the library that helped you be in the spotlight. I want to know if you’re offering mentoring programmes.
For free, of course.
I decide that I don’t mind not really feeling at home. I miss work, because, in some hidden corner of my mind, I think I’ve discovered what I want to do (besides writing novels, I mean). I want to take new risks and be damn serious about them. I won’t mind another unpaid job as long as it gives me the thrills of knowledge and a team of great people. I would actually love it.
I try to foresee my future and try to figure out when to schedule dance lessons.
I have a resolution of meeting new people, no matter what the statistics tell me about them.
I am still stubbornly refusing to read all those mails and I sleep a lot, but not excessively. I have these few days of not taking any responsibilities, just feeding my imagination.
For a couple of days I can be anti-social, but I am redesigning myself. How else can my friends appreciate me if they’d see me every day in the same way? Ntz, ntz…
I try to keep myself away from coffee and I think the coffee minds. It might be good to add some whipped cream to it when we meet again.
I am up for jazz, latino, arabian music and making memories.
And you?
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