I have come to expect things on my bike to break but there are parts I have never seen break, even after thousands of miles on the road. This morning one of those parts broke. For those who are uninitiated in bike-speak, the derailler is the part on the back of the bike, above the wheel, that shifts gears. To my dismay, the arm of the derailler twisted and snapped off first thing this morning bending the part of the frame that it hangs off of with it. Even though I knew that this was a problem I was not going to be able to fix on the side of the road, I couldn't help but stare at my busted derailler in disbelief for at least 15 minutes while several trucks that could have carried me to the nearest city zoomed by.
Resigned to my fate of having to hitchhike the next 60 kilometers to a city large enough to have a bike shop that sold new deraillers, I finally made a sign that said, "Concordia, emergency." The funny thing about hitchhiking is that people never seem to stop when you most need them to. Luckily, I think I appeared despondent enough that after about half an hour some truckers with an "empty" truckbed stopped for me. I was so happy for the lift that I was able to overlook the fact that the truck was normally used to transport the left-over body parts of dead animals. On the bottom of the truck bed, there was a piece of brain here, a hoof there, a piece of scalp here, and parts which I was unable to identify randomly strewn about. I was originally going to sit down for my trip but then I noticed that the floor was slippery with the fat of dead animals. I almost slipped and fell a number of times when the semi came to a stop. Fortunately, the trip lasted just under an hour so I didn't have to endure the nastiness too long.
When the truckers dropped me off at the edge of the city, there was a nice supermarket owner who let me wash my hands in the back of his store and gave me a ride to a bicycle shop so I could beat the afternoon siesta. The mechanic at the shop appeared optimistic about being able bend the frame back into place.Hopefully, the mechanic will be able to fix my bike like new again but I am worried that it will never shift quite the same again. I can only pray to my heathen gods that everything will be allright.
On the way out of Buenos Aires, towards the border with Brazil, I actually had to pay a bribe to some corrupt cops for the first time. This is after riding through all of of Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia. Anyone who has ever driven through Argentina knows that there are police checkpoints everywhere. They usually are just checking for identifying documents but, I found out the hard way, sometimes they are looking for a pound of flesh.
As I approached the checkpoint, the cop indicated to me that he wanted me to stop so that is exactly what I did. He asked, "Why don't you have a knee or elbow pads?" I wanted to say, "Do I look like a fucking five-year-old, asshole?" but I only said, " I have ridden over 15,000 kilometers without falling. I am willing to risk it." To my surprise he said, "Come inside so you can talk to the boss." I didn't think anything of it since I have encountered many incredulous police officers who feigned concern over my safety before so I went along with it.
When inside, the boss immediately began talking about "fines." I protested immediately. Not only was I wearing a helmet and had a bicycle that was almost entirely reflective but I had ridden well over 2,000 kilometers in Argentina and passed through many police checkpoints without hearing a word about any of the traffic laws that I was supposedly violating. At this point, I should mention that a pig never uses the word bribe directly when that is what they want. I should also mention that the bribe is negotiable. They start high and you lowball them as much as you can. After my protest, the cop persisted in trying to get me to pay the "fine." He even showed me some bullshit law they only enforce on rich gringos since I have seen literally thousands of cyclists without mirrors on their bikes or reflectice clothing.
Realizing that the pigfucker wasn't going to give up I asked him how much the fine was, expecting some small number. My eyes popped out of my head when he told me the fine was 900 pesos. That is comfortably over $200. There was no way in fucking hell that I was going to fork over this kind of money. I would rather give my money to the Taliban than to these inbred, thieving pigs. I told him I wasn't carrying that kind of money. "You aren't carrying dollars?" he asked. "Why would I be carrying dollars? We're in Argentina." He then pointed at a Mastercard emblem on the door and said, "We accept credit cards." I lied, "My card only works in cash machines." "Well, since you have a helmet and your bike is reflective we can reduce the 'fine' for you. How does $100 sound to you?" " I can eat for a month with $100. That is way too much. I am not even carrying that kind of money."
At this point, we had come to an impasse. The cop obviously didn't want to drop below $100 and I have a healthy contempt for police so I wasn't budging either. Finally, I called his bluff, "I would much rather go to jail than pay that much." "Oh, we can't take you to jail for this. It is only an infraction. How much do you have?" At this point I took out the second wallet I carry: the one with significantly less cash in it. I carry this wallet for the sole purpose of having something to give thieves if they are better armed than me. I just didn't expect that the thieves would be wearing badges. I counted out 90 pesos and said that was all I had. "How much will you give us for this infraction?" "I can only give you 50 since I need to eat," At that, a deal was struck.
I am still pissed about this even though I talked the cops down from well over $200 to about $13. I suppose I should feel grateful that I wasn't "disappeared" since that is exactly what happened to over 30,000 Argentinans during the military dictatorship during the late 70s and early 80s. I should also mention that as much as I fulminate about taser-happy police in the United States, cops in the developing world bring thuggery to a new level. It was just last month that a Nigerian Islamic militant died while in the custody of police. Whenever, Mexican cops arrest some drug kingpin they usually beat the shit out of him. This is evidenced by the black eyes and bloody noses that they almost invariably have when they are paraded before the press. American cops are models of professionalism and restraint in comparison. I remember how angry people got when a L.A. police officer kicked a suspect in the head after he finally gave up and jumped to the ground. The cop would have gotten away with it too if this whole event wasn't captured on videotape. My point to this is that when cops abuse prisoners this abuse is revisited upon them by the abused. Don't think that the Nigerian Islamic militants didn't take notice when their leader mysteriously died in police custody. When the Mexican cartels hire assassins to kill police and soldiers, the victims frequently show signs of torture. Restraint and professionalism is the only way the cops can legitimize what they do and it is what supposedly separates them from the criminals and terrorists.
I couldn't help but notice the blurbs in the news about the gun nuts showing up at rallies that president Obama attended. My favorite one was the man who brought the fully loaded AR-15 to they rally in Phoenix. The news article mentioned that Arizona was one of seven "open carry" states meaning that anyone can openly carry a gun with them for any reason. This peaked my curiousity and my Texas pride. "How could those Arizonans be any crazier than us Texans?" I asked. After a quick wikipedia search, I was disappointed to find out that Texas was not one of the seven "open carry" states. We can only openly carry firearms when we are ostensibly hunting. There goes my lifelong dream of opening up a drive-thru gun and liquor store. Maybe I will have to move to Phoenix. I can already imagine riding my bicycle around with a fully loaded automatic rifle strapped to my back on a 120 degree day. I don't think anyone would ever cut me off again.
DIE PIG, DIE
There is danger lurking on every street
But it's not from the criminals but the cops on the beat.
Through coercion and fear
And beatings admininistered in riot gear
They control the populations
Of all the world's nations.
And if that doesn't work they'll throw you in jail.
They'll call you a terrorist and deny your bail
And if that doesn't work they'll kill you outright,
Bursting in through the door in the middle of the night.
You should never underestimate a pig's brutality.
They can make your worst nightmare become your reality.
BRIDGE:
The only good cop is a dead cop.
CHORUS:
Die pig, motherfucker die.
When the revolution comes you'll have nowhere to hide.
We will no longer tolerate your bold-faced lies.
When the people rise up you'll be on the wrong side.
In Russia, and China, and the U.S.A.
In Iran, and Israel, and Zimbabwe
In Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany
Across time and space the pigs are the same to me.
If your party's too loud they'll be there without delay
But if you're mugged on the street they look the other way.
If you're smoking a joint they'll jail you right away
But in a government massacre they guilty never pay.
Those lying, thieving pigs have got some fucking nerve
When they say their job is to protect and serve
BRIDGE:
The only good cop is a dead cop.
CHORUS:
Die pig, motherfucker die.
When the revolution comes you'll have nowhere to hide.
We will no longer tolerate your bold-faced lies.
When the people rise up you'll be on the wrong side.
CODA:
One day this worldwide police state
Will collapse and crumble under its own weight
And the machine that's lubricated with the blood of innocents
Will come grinding to a halt for lack of acquiescence.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Adventures of a Ganjobiciclatholic Anarcyclist in a Worldwide Fascist State
I have made it to Buenos Aires, the southernmost point in my trip. It is starting to warm up but I am officially sick and tired of the cold. I am looking forward to the steamy weather of Brazil. After looking at a map, I have come to the realization that my trip is almost over as I plan to end up in either Sao Paulo or Rio de Janeiro. That does not mean I am coming back to the U.S. any time soon. On the contrary, I plan to stay in Brazil for at least a year so I can learn Portuguese. I will also be on the lookout for a monkey skull to mount on my helmet. I have actually been reading a Portuguese/English dictionary page by page to familiarize myself with some Portuguese vocabulary and to practice my pronunciation. Portuguese is a little bit harder for me than Spanish because, unlike Spanish, the pronunciation seems to be more random.
The other week when I was in Rosario I was asking for directions to a hostel from a street juggler who indicated to me that, if I continued in the direction that I wanted to, I would be going in the wrong direction. I told him that I didn't care because I was an "anarciclista." We both had a good laugh about that but I thought that was a good word to describe me both politically and as a cyclist. When Argentinans cut me off while making a right turn without even signalling I see no reason to respect traffic laws written for people in cars. When the highway has signs that say, "Bicycles prohibited." I ignore them. The ironic thing is that the highway that has all of these signs is the safest road in all of Argentina for cyclists as it has a wide shoulder and a median to prevent cars from crossing over to the opposite lane. When there was, what looked like, a deadly crash on the highway that backed up traffic for at least 50 kilometers, I crossed the median and rode on the shoulder of the opposite side while thousands of drivers stranded in the traffic jam eyed me enviously. Strangely enough, the cops didn't give me any trouble about riding my bicycle on the highway even once.
The closest I got to getting in any trouble on the highway was when I underestimated the velocity of a motorcyclist leaving an on-ramp for a highway and cut across him. He then slowed down to have words with me and I flipped him off since I don't like being yelled at. He then drove alongside me for a while trying to be menacing. Fortunately he was all bark and no bite or as I like to say all fart and no shit. The funny thing is I actually ran into him later while I was eating lunch. He did the same old thing trying to be menacing but then drove off. The funny thing is that if he actually stuck around I would have apologized to him. Oh well. On the way back, I will try to not underestimate the speed of motorcyclists leaving the on-ramp.
Entering Buenos Aires on a bicycle is not for the faint-hearted. There was one part where I was in the middle of the road after two six-lane highways merged. This highway eventually morphed into a twenty-lane behemoth. When I knew that I was closer to my friend's house, I was happy to leave this monstrosity.
Despite the Argentinan government's complete disregard for cyclists, I see a surprisingly large number of cyclist on the road, many of them middle-aged women. Once you become comfortable maneuvering around the massive streets in Buenos Aires, you can actually move quite a bit faster than people in cars. I think I would go absolutely crazy if I were stuck in a car behind traffic that I could easily cut through on my bicycle.
Buenos Aires has some fantastic graffiti. Unfortunately, a lot of it is in seedier areas of town. When I was taking a picture of a fabulous demonic nun underneath a bridge, a one-legged junkie came up to me trying to intimidate me. "Why are you taking pictures?", he barked. With a smile that belied the look I gave him that said I wouldn't think twice about breaking his good knee if he threatened me I told him, "It's a pretty painting." I them walked off and took some more graffiti pictures.
I have been reading a lot of the news about police abuses of power in the U.S. The Henry Louis Gates has finally made it out of the headlines. I am happy to see discussion about racial profiling in the news but I don't think that this was a classic case of racial profiling. He didn't even get tased or shot in the back while handcuffed. This is just a classic case of police abuse of power. Disorderly conduct is by far the vaguest charge a police officer can make when arresting a person. In my opinion it is unconstitutional as it is both "cruel and unusual" and used as a means of stifling the criticism of police officers protected by the first amendment.
Speaking of taser-happy cops and racial profiling, I read with horror that police in Prince William County, North Carolina tased a pregnant woman during her son's baptism. She was Mexican so I guess that makes it allright. Seriously though, police in the U.S. need to follow very strict guidelines as to when they can tase someone. I would start by saying that they should never tase children, elderly people, noticably pregnant women, people on elevated platforms, and noticably disabled people. They should also never aim for the head, heart, or anus (yes, cops have tased people in the anus before). There should also be a very serious follow-up on tasing victims to make sure that tasers are, in fact, "non-lethal." I have read about tasers leading to heart arrhythmia.
I have advice for anyone that encounters police officers in the United States. Always be polite. Start out with, "Well sir/mamn." Then lie to their face. If you are questioned regarding any crime do not speak to them without the presence of a lawyer. I have seen too many cases of people serving on murder charges because the police coerced a confession. To summarize, do not cooperate with police as they are not here to protect you but to provide fodder for the prison-industrial complex.
The other week when I was in Rosario I was asking for directions to a hostel from a street juggler who indicated to me that, if I continued in the direction that I wanted to, I would be going in the wrong direction. I told him that I didn't care because I was an "anarciclista." We both had a good laugh about that but I thought that was a good word to describe me both politically and as a cyclist. When Argentinans cut me off while making a right turn without even signalling I see no reason to respect traffic laws written for people in cars. When the highway has signs that say, "Bicycles prohibited." I ignore them. The ironic thing is that the highway that has all of these signs is the safest road in all of Argentina for cyclists as it has a wide shoulder and a median to prevent cars from crossing over to the opposite lane. When there was, what looked like, a deadly crash on the highway that backed up traffic for at least 50 kilometers, I crossed the median and rode on the shoulder of the opposite side while thousands of drivers stranded in the traffic jam eyed me enviously. Strangely enough, the cops didn't give me any trouble about riding my bicycle on the highway even once.
The closest I got to getting in any trouble on the highway was when I underestimated the velocity of a motorcyclist leaving an on-ramp for a highway and cut across him. He then slowed down to have words with me and I flipped him off since I don't like being yelled at. He then drove alongside me for a while trying to be menacing. Fortunately he was all bark and no bite or as I like to say all fart and no shit. The funny thing is I actually ran into him later while I was eating lunch. He did the same old thing trying to be menacing but then drove off. The funny thing is that if he actually stuck around I would have apologized to him. Oh well. On the way back, I will try to not underestimate the speed of motorcyclists leaving the on-ramp.
Entering Buenos Aires on a bicycle is not for the faint-hearted. There was one part where I was in the middle of the road after two six-lane highways merged. This highway eventually morphed into a twenty-lane behemoth. When I knew that I was closer to my friend's house, I was happy to leave this monstrosity.
Despite the Argentinan government's complete disregard for cyclists, I see a surprisingly large number of cyclist on the road, many of them middle-aged women. Once you become comfortable maneuvering around the massive streets in Buenos Aires, you can actually move quite a bit faster than people in cars. I think I would go absolutely crazy if I were stuck in a car behind traffic that I could easily cut through on my bicycle.
Buenos Aires has some fantastic graffiti. Unfortunately, a lot of it is in seedier areas of town. When I was taking a picture of a fabulous demonic nun underneath a bridge, a one-legged junkie came up to me trying to intimidate me. "Why are you taking pictures?", he barked. With a smile that belied the look I gave him that said I wouldn't think twice about breaking his good knee if he threatened me I told him, "It's a pretty painting." I them walked off and took some more graffiti pictures.
I have been reading a lot of the news about police abuses of power in the U.S. The Henry Louis Gates has finally made it out of the headlines. I am happy to see discussion about racial profiling in the news but I don't think that this was a classic case of racial profiling. He didn't even get tased or shot in the back while handcuffed. This is just a classic case of police abuse of power. Disorderly conduct is by far the vaguest charge a police officer can make when arresting a person. In my opinion it is unconstitutional as it is both "cruel and unusual" and used as a means of stifling the criticism of police officers protected by the first amendment.
Speaking of taser-happy cops and racial profiling, I read with horror that police in Prince William County, North Carolina tased a pregnant woman during her son's baptism. She was Mexican so I guess that makes it allright. Seriously though, police in the U.S. need to follow very strict guidelines as to when they can tase someone. I would start by saying that they should never tase children, elderly people, noticably pregnant women, people on elevated platforms, and noticably disabled people. They should also never aim for the head, heart, or anus (yes, cops have tased people in the anus before). There should also be a very serious follow-up on tasing victims to make sure that tasers are, in fact, "non-lethal." I have read about tasers leading to heart arrhythmia.
I have advice for anyone that encounters police officers in the United States. Always be polite. Start out with, "Well sir/mamn." Then lie to their face. If you are questioned regarding any crime do not speak to them without the presence of a lawyer. I have seen too many cases of people serving on murder charges because the police coerced a confession. To summarize, do not cooperate with police as they are not here to protect you but to provide fodder for the prison-industrial complex.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
How to Travel Cheaply in Argentina
Though my opinion of Argentina remains pretty high, I have noticed some more cracks in the facade. Despite Argentina's European tendencies, there is still one Latin American tradition that holds strongly here: the midday siesta. Of all the Latin Americans, Argentinans are by far the most militant siesteros. I have been in cities of half a million people where almost all the businesses, save the gas stations, close for the four hour period from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. I am all for slacking off but it is pretty frustrating when I arrive in a new town at 1:05 p.m. and I can't buy fruit, or anything for that matter, for the next four hours. If you want to buy something other than food or medicine, those stores don't even open until 5 p.m. I am somewhat skeptical that businesses can effectively turn a profit with such limited business hours. I also don't like how it is impossible to run any errands without being forced to wait in long lines as everyone runs their errands at the same time. As someone who has worked mostly nights for the past several years I would also be annoyed by having to run errands on my days off, which for me are sacred.
Another annoyance for me is that, despite the high traffic volume between cities, Argentinan highways almost never deviate from the two-lane highway with no shoulder. This isn't just dangerous for cyclists but for the many moped drivers and drivers in general as people generally execute dangerous maneuvers to get around the many semis that clog the highways. It is pretty clear to me that the government already has the rights to the land in order to expand some of these highways as the property lines are consistently offset at least 20 meters from the road. The other day the police tried to stop me when I was on one of these overburdened highways. As I knew that I did not have an alternate route to follow and I generally don't respect law enforcement officers, I just ignored them and continued on anyway. They would have told me that I couldn't be on the highway even though there are no signs indicating this and I would have told them that I was already there and I needed to continue on. For this reason, I didn't see any reason in stopping for them. Let them chase me.
The difference in the prices for lodging between Bolivia and Argentina is at least five-fold but there are ways to cut costs. Most of the large cities have municipal camping sites that charge anywhere between $1 and $3 for pitching your tent. These camping sites also almost always have hot water and barbeque grills which for me is luxurious. The other day, I spent $5 for a bag of charcoal, two T-bones, and morcilla, the Argentinan blood sausauge which I have become obsessed with. This is a lot cheaper than the same meal would have worked out to at a restuarant.
Between the cities, the camping options are fewer and far between. This isn't like the Bolivian and Peruvian altiplano where the highway traverses miles and miles of unfenced, open land. Almost all of the land is fenced off here in Argentina. I have resorted to full on homeless camping as a result. I haven't even been constructing my tent as doing so saves me a lot of time in the morning when I am repacking my bicycle. People here are always telling me that it gets cold at night but I always chuckle at this suggestion since it hasn't even been freezing at night. I have slept in abandoned houses and behind Catholic shrines to Gauchito Gil who I suppose is the Argentinan version of La Virgen de Guadalupe. Last night, I was awoken by police when they discovered my campsite. After explaining that the nearby campsite was closed, which it was, and that there was little time left before the sunset to choose a campsite, the cops let me be. This happened after a carpenter who thought I was the thief who was stealing his wood approached me when I was putting down my bed. At first I was like, "Robar madera? Excuse me but I am not sure what you are talking about." After showing the carpenter my bicycle he was satisfied that I couldn't steal his wood even if I wanted to and let me be. The other times that I have been discovered while setting up my campsite, I have had to turn down the families trying to offer me everything from food to letting me sleep in their house as I carry my own food and don't want to be a burden. I just wanted to be clear that not all of my experiences being discovered are unpleasant.
I wanted to make a quick observation that, of all the female politicians in the world, President Christina Fernandez Kirchner is by far the most feminine leader I have ever seen. While Hillary Clinton rocks the pant-suits and tries to appear as manly as possible in a male dominated world, the Argentinan president makes no pretensions whatsoever to try to conceal her femininity. The other day, I saw her on television at a church service commemorating Argentinan independence (July 9th). While all of the other congregants were dressed conservatively with dark colors, she stood out in her lavender outfit which looked like it was designed by Gucci. I don't have any opinion on this, I just thought it was an interesting observation.
Another annoyance for me is that, despite the high traffic volume between cities, Argentinan highways almost never deviate from the two-lane highway with no shoulder. This isn't just dangerous for cyclists but for the many moped drivers and drivers in general as people generally execute dangerous maneuvers to get around the many semis that clog the highways. It is pretty clear to me that the government already has the rights to the land in order to expand some of these highways as the property lines are consistently offset at least 20 meters from the road. The other day the police tried to stop me when I was on one of these overburdened highways. As I knew that I did not have an alternate route to follow and I generally don't respect law enforcement officers, I just ignored them and continued on anyway. They would have told me that I couldn't be on the highway even though there are no signs indicating this and I would have told them that I was already there and I needed to continue on. For this reason, I didn't see any reason in stopping for them. Let them chase me.
The difference in the prices for lodging between Bolivia and Argentina is at least five-fold but there are ways to cut costs. Most of the large cities have municipal camping sites that charge anywhere between $1 and $3 for pitching your tent. These camping sites also almost always have hot water and barbeque grills which for me is luxurious. The other day, I spent $5 for a bag of charcoal, two T-bones, and morcilla, the Argentinan blood sausauge which I have become obsessed with. This is a lot cheaper than the same meal would have worked out to at a restuarant.
Between the cities, the camping options are fewer and far between. This isn't like the Bolivian and Peruvian altiplano where the highway traverses miles and miles of unfenced, open land. Almost all of the land is fenced off here in Argentina. I have resorted to full on homeless camping as a result. I haven't even been constructing my tent as doing so saves me a lot of time in the morning when I am repacking my bicycle. People here are always telling me that it gets cold at night but I always chuckle at this suggestion since it hasn't even been freezing at night. I have slept in abandoned houses and behind Catholic shrines to Gauchito Gil who I suppose is the Argentinan version of La Virgen de Guadalupe. Last night, I was awoken by police when they discovered my campsite. After explaining that the nearby campsite was closed, which it was, and that there was little time left before the sunset to choose a campsite, the cops let me be. This happened after a carpenter who thought I was the thief who was stealing his wood approached me when I was putting down my bed. At first I was like, "Robar madera? Excuse me but I am not sure what you are talking about." After showing the carpenter my bicycle he was satisfied that I couldn't steal his wood even if I wanted to and let me be. The other times that I have been discovered while setting up my campsite, I have had to turn down the families trying to offer me everything from food to letting me sleep in their house as I carry my own food and don't want to be a burden. I just wanted to be clear that not all of my experiences being discovered are unpleasant.
I wanted to make a quick observation that, of all the female politicians in the world, President Christina Fernandez Kirchner is by far the most feminine leader I have ever seen. While Hillary Clinton rocks the pant-suits and tries to appear as manly as possible in a male dominated world, the Argentinan president makes no pretensions whatsoever to try to conceal her femininity. The other day, I saw her on television at a church service commemorating Argentinan independence (July 9th). While all of the other congregants were dressed conservatively with dark colors, she stood out in her lavender outfit which looked like it was designed by Gucci. I don't have any opinion on this, I just thought it was an interesting observation.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The Amerikkkan Cult of Mediocrity
I am slowly making my way down towards Buenos Aires. There is a part of me that wants to slack off and there is the part of me that wants to make it to Brazil before long. The slacker in me got rewarded with a cold that forced me to stay in Tafi del Valle during my recuperation. Being sick made me realize that, as much as I love Argentina, I probably couldn't live here. The thing that disappointed me was that I could not find either fresh chiles or ginger anywhere I looked. I am in Tucuman right now. It is one of the bigger cities and I still can't find these ingredients. When I am congested, I usually like to make spicy food and ginger root tea to speed up the recovery process but I had to live without. In Argentina, it is not hard to find good meats or cheeses but try looking for fresh vegetables, that aren't regularly used here, and you will eventually have to give up in desperation.
Another negative thing that I have noticed about Argentina is that more people smoke and it is banned in less public places. I even see mothers walking down the street holding a child with one hand and a cigarette with the other. Smoking is a nasty habit not to mention the fact that just being around cigarette smoke gives me a nasty headache. I have been turned off from countless women on account of their smoking. It is the feeling that I just have to grin and bear it that makes me think I might not enjoy living here.
The death of Michael Jackson has made me reflect on a growing phenomenon in Amerikkka: mediocrity. Mediocrity pervades Amerikkkan life. We have mediocre schools, mediocre healthcare, mediocre politicians, and mediocre everything. The tragic thing about this is that Amerikkka used to produce excellence. It is the country that gave the world jazz and rock and roll. Now its contribution to the world is Christina Aguilera and The Fast and the Furious.
Michael Jackson was the personification of mediocrity. His entire career was just one giant piece of shit in my opinion. I can't think of a single Jackson 5 song that doesn't make me want to stab chopsticks into my eardrums. Hearing a prepubescent child sing about love drives me into a murderous rage that causes me to have dark fantasies about torturing Tila Tequila and then stoning her to death with the severed heads of the Jonas Brothers. The only thing that could possibly be more cringe-worthy is if the adult Michael Jackson wrote a song for N.A.M.B.L.A. For those of yall who aren't in the know, N.A.M.B.L.A. stands for the North Amerikkkan Man-Boy Love Association. Since the Jackson 5 was commercially successful, the large music companies have been marketing bands with children in them ever since. You can blame the Jackson 5 for Hansen, the Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, and any other shit band made up of children. As a rule of thumb, unless the child is channeling Django Reinhardt, I don't want to hear it.
I can't deny that I liked Thriller when I was a child but looking back now, armed with the awareness of much greater musicians, I see it for what it really was. Thriller marks a crucial turning point in the devolution of Amerikkkan music. It laid the foundation for Madonna, Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, Justin Timberlake, and any other "musician" who makes me want to kill people randomly. Looking back, there were only three songs on the album that I liked even when I was a kid. Jack-Off made only one hit song after that album. He was too busy morphing from a black man into the alabaster freak that he became.
Did I mention that M.J. was an overrated dancer. He had a very limited dance repertoire that consisted of the moonwalk, a counterclockwise pirouette, a right-footed kick, a right-handed crotch grab, and a few jerky motions. He was nothing compared to greats like Barishnikov and any of the street dancers who helped invent break dancing. In fact, I don't think he would make it past the second round of So You Think You Can Dance. You can again blame M.J. for the prevalence of pop stars whose only qualification is that they hit the right notes and can dance with back-up dancers. Speaking of back-up dancers, Michael Jackson was frequently upstaged by his in almost all of his music videos.
Why does this matter so much to me? Because I am tired of being told that something that is truly mediocre is really excellent. It is this American complacency with mediocrity that gives us politicians like Sarah Palin. Can you think of a better example of someone who best epitomizes megalomaniacal mediocrity. I think she is so popular because she is mediocre just like her supporters. People want to vote for someone who mirrors them.
Barack Obama is a man of exceptional intelligence and exceptional P.R. who, nonetheless, produces mediocre results. The Audacity of Hope should have been called the Audacity of Bullshit. I am trying to think if there is a single promise he has made that he hasn't already broken or botched. I can't think of anything. I could exhaust myself by going down the list, starting with giving immunity to telecommunications companies that assisted the Bush administration with illegal wiretaps, but then I would be too pissed off to think clearly. To make matters worse he was all buddy-buddy with Alvaro Uribe during his visit to the White House. Obama praised the Colombian president for his "human rights" record. This is the same president who has presided over the country the entire time that homeless people were being killed and disguised as rebels to facilitate the promotions of army officers. I guess Barack Obama is the mediocre president that mediocre Amerikkka deserves.
Amerikkka still excels at two things: greed and gluttony. Only in Amerikkka would a man have the greed-induced chutzpah to create a $50 billion pyramid scheme like Bernard Madoff. If he had shut down the operation after only a few hundred million dollars he probably would have gotten away with it. Joey Chestnut is a new Amerikkkan hero. He is the man who has now defeated the Michael Jordan of competitive eating three times a row at the annual Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Contest. Before Chestnut came along, Takeru Kobayashi, the little Japanese guy, was dominating the world of competitive eating. As an aside I should mention that the video of Kobayashi going head-to-head with a giant Kodiac bear in a hot dog eating contest is hilarious. Despite the fact that Kobayashi has broken his own personal records in latest hot dog eating contests, Joey Chestnut has dominated him. In the last contest Chestnut consumed 68 hot dogs. U.S.A., U.S.A. We're number one!
The California budget crisis has brought out the anti-immigrant folks. Mirroring Proposition 187, these folks are trying to deny all state services to immigrants and their American born children. After hurling thinly veiled racist attacks on the "illiterate" hordes of Mexicans they then go around by interpreting the 14th Amendment to the Constitution in a manner that only displays their functional illiteracy. They actually believe that they can interpret, "All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside." to mean, "No wetback children." I almost feel sorry for these folks since they are most definitely products of our mediocre educational system.
Amerikkka is a society in decay. I will probably come back for a little while to make some money and say my goodbyes but my long term plan is to get the fuck off of this sinking ship. In twenty years, the dollar won't be worth shit. We already spend more money paying the interest on our debt than even our military budget. When our debt is around $15 trillion-- it will reach that-- our foreign creditors will probably want a higher interest rate than what they are paid now. The current economic crisis is a direct result of Amerikkkan greed. I don't want to pay taxes or even spend money within the Amerikkkan economy any more. I am ready to opt out.
Another negative thing that I have noticed about Argentina is that more people smoke and it is banned in less public places. I even see mothers walking down the street holding a child with one hand and a cigarette with the other. Smoking is a nasty habit not to mention the fact that just being around cigarette smoke gives me a nasty headache. I have been turned off from countless women on account of their smoking. It is the feeling that I just have to grin and bear it that makes me think I might not enjoy living here.
The death of Michael Jackson has made me reflect on a growing phenomenon in Amerikkka: mediocrity. Mediocrity pervades Amerikkkan life. We have mediocre schools, mediocre healthcare, mediocre politicians, and mediocre everything. The tragic thing about this is that Amerikkka used to produce excellence. It is the country that gave the world jazz and rock and roll. Now its contribution to the world is Christina Aguilera and The Fast and the Furious.
Michael Jackson was the personification of mediocrity. His entire career was just one giant piece of shit in my opinion. I can't think of a single Jackson 5 song that doesn't make me want to stab chopsticks into my eardrums. Hearing a prepubescent child sing about love drives me into a murderous rage that causes me to have dark fantasies about torturing Tila Tequila and then stoning her to death with the severed heads of the Jonas Brothers. The only thing that could possibly be more cringe-worthy is if the adult Michael Jackson wrote a song for N.A.M.B.L.A. For those of yall who aren't in the know, N.A.M.B.L.A. stands for the North Amerikkkan Man-Boy Love Association. Since the Jackson 5 was commercially successful, the large music companies have been marketing bands with children in them ever since. You can blame the Jackson 5 for Hansen, the Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, and any other shit band made up of children. As a rule of thumb, unless the child is channeling Django Reinhardt, I don't want to hear it.
I can't deny that I liked Thriller when I was a child but looking back now, armed with the awareness of much greater musicians, I see it for what it really was. Thriller marks a crucial turning point in the devolution of Amerikkkan music. It laid the foundation for Madonna, Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, Justin Timberlake, and any other "musician" who makes me want to kill people randomly. Looking back, there were only three songs on the album that I liked even when I was a kid. Jack-Off made only one hit song after that album. He was too busy morphing from a black man into the alabaster freak that he became.
Did I mention that M.J. was an overrated dancer. He had a very limited dance repertoire that consisted of the moonwalk, a counterclockwise pirouette, a right-footed kick, a right-handed crotch grab, and a few jerky motions. He was nothing compared to greats like Barishnikov and any of the street dancers who helped invent break dancing. In fact, I don't think he would make it past the second round of So You Think You Can Dance. You can again blame M.J. for the prevalence of pop stars whose only qualification is that they hit the right notes and can dance with back-up dancers. Speaking of back-up dancers, Michael Jackson was frequently upstaged by his in almost all of his music videos.
Why does this matter so much to me? Because I am tired of being told that something that is truly mediocre is really excellent. It is this American complacency with mediocrity that gives us politicians like Sarah Palin. Can you think of a better example of someone who best epitomizes megalomaniacal mediocrity. I think she is so popular because she is mediocre just like her supporters. People want to vote for someone who mirrors them.
Barack Obama is a man of exceptional intelligence and exceptional P.R. who, nonetheless, produces mediocre results. The Audacity of Hope should have been called the Audacity of Bullshit. I am trying to think if there is a single promise he has made that he hasn't already broken or botched. I can't think of anything. I could exhaust myself by going down the list, starting with giving immunity to telecommunications companies that assisted the Bush administration with illegal wiretaps, but then I would be too pissed off to think clearly. To make matters worse he was all buddy-buddy with Alvaro Uribe during his visit to the White House. Obama praised the Colombian president for his "human rights" record. This is the same president who has presided over the country the entire time that homeless people were being killed and disguised as rebels to facilitate the promotions of army officers. I guess Barack Obama is the mediocre president that mediocre Amerikkka deserves.
Amerikkka still excels at two things: greed and gluttony. Only in Amerikkka would a man have the greed-induced chutzpah to create a $50 billion pyramid scheme like Bernard Madoff. If he had shut down the operation after only a few hundred million dollars he probably would have gotten away with it. Joey Chestnut is a new Amerikkkan hero. He is the man who has now defeated the Michael Jordan of competitive eating three times a row at the annual Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Contest. Before Chestnut came along, Takeru Kobayashi, the little Japanese guy, was dominating the world of competitive eating. As an aside I should mention that the video of Kobayashi going head-to-head with a giant Kodiac bear in a hot dog eating contest is hilarious. Despite the fact that Kobayashi has broken his own personal records in latest hot dog eating contests, Joey Chestnut has dominated him. In the last contest Chestnut consumed 68 hot dogs. U.S.A., U.S.A. We're number one!
The California budget crisis has brought out the anti-immigrant folks. Mirroring Proposition 187, these folks are trying to deny all state services to immigrants and their American born children. After hurling thinly veiled racist attacks on the "illiterate" hordes of Mexicans they then go around by interpreting the 14th Amendment to the Constitution in a manner that only displays their functional illiteracy. They actually believe that they can interpret, "All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside." to mean, "No wetback children." I almost feel sorry for these folks since they are most definitely products of our mediocre educational system.
Amerikkka is a society in decay. I will probably come back for a little while to make some money and say my goodbyes but my long term plan is to get the fuck off of this sinking ship. In twenty years, the dollar won't be worth shit. We already spend more money paying the interest on our debt than even our military budget. When our debt is around $15 trillion-- it will reach that-- our foreign creditors will probably want a higher interest rate than what they are paid now. The current economic crisis is a direct result of Amerikkkan greed. I don't want to pay taxes or even spend money within the Amerikkkan economy any more. I am ready to opt out.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
I Love Argentina
I know that I have not been in Argentina very long but I love this place. I am a man of primal urges who thinks a lot more with his stomach than with his penis. To put it another way, the road to my heart goes through my stomach. For this reason, Argentina has won my heart and then some. This is a country that truly enjoys food. I am very seriously thinking about moving here permanently, not right away but after I can save some more money back in Babylon.
Argentina may not have quite as much money as the United States or parts of Europe but I am convinced that the quality of life is better. I still can't believe it, but I ate a $2 T-bone steak last night. I have vivid memories of buying a T-bone steak from Whole Foods for no less than $16. A homeless man can sit down after a hard day of begging and eat a $2 T-bone and wash it down with a $2 bottle of wine that rivals the quality of more expensive bottles of wine in the U.S.
There are some things I don't like about Argentina. One thing I have noticed is that they commemorate their war against the indigenous of Patagonia on the back of their 100 peso note. This is pretty much the same thing as if the U.S. government had some glorified depiction of the Trail of Tears on the back of the Andrew Jackson-twenty dollar bill. Part of me thinks that would be appropriate since Jackson was a murderous thug but the other part of me thinks that no government should celebrate genocide.
In my previous post, I made a claim that Paraguay is the only country that borders Bolivia that might lose a war with it. I take that back. These two countries fought a war back in the 1930s and the then numerically and technologically superior Bolivian forces had their asses handed back to them. The Bolivian troops, who were mostly indigenous, quechua-speaking people from the highlands couldn't handle the weather in what is the hottest part of South America. Moreover, those fucking dumbasses didn't have the wherewithall to hire Guarani-speaking intelligence officers to intercept Paraguayan radio transmissions. As the recent coup in Honduras should prove, militaries are a much greater threat to democracy than they are its defenders. Anyway, enough of that. I am going to go eat a $2 T-bone.
Argentina may not have quite as much money as the United States or parts of Europe but I am convinced that the quality of life is better. I still can't believe it, but I ate a $2 T-bone steak last night. I have vivid memories of buying a T-bone steak from Whole Foods for no less than $16. A homeless man can sit down after a hard day of begging and eat a $2 T-bone and wash it down with a $2 bottle of wine that rivals the quality of more expensive bottles of wine in the U.S.
There are some things I don't like about Argentina. One thing I have noticed is that they commemorate their war against the indigenous of Patagonia on the back of their 100 peso note. This is pretty much the same thing as if the U.S. government had some glorified depiction of the Trail of Tears on the back of the Andrew Jackson-twenty dollar bill. Part of me thinks that would be appropriate since Jackson was a murderous thug but the other part of me thinks that no government should celebrate genocide.
In my previous post, I made a claim that Paraguay is the only country that borders Bolivia that might lose a war with it. I take that back. These two countries fought a war back in the 1930s and the then numerically and technologically superior Bolivian forces had their asses handed back to them. The Bolivian troops, who were mostly indigenous, quechua-speaking people from the highlands couldn't handle the weather in what is the hottest part of South America. Moreover, those fucking dumbasses didn't have the wherewithall to hire Guarani-speaking intelligence officers to intercept Paraguayan radio transmissions. As the recent coup in Honduras should prove, militaries are a much greater threat to democracy than they are its defenders. Anyway, enough of that. I am going to go eat a $2 T-bone.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Bienvenidos a Argentina
Bolivia is beautiful but I am so happy to be out of that country. I will miss the breathtaking scenery and the anything-goes lawlessness but beyond that I can't think of anything else that I will long for. I will not miss the sand-covered washboard dirt roads, the shitty cans of "tuna", and the complete lack of decent broadband network. There were so many times when I wandered into a town looking for food only to be disappointed by the selection of items. My typical conversation would go like this:
"Is there a comedor in town?"
" No."
"Is there internet?"
"No."
"Is there a even a store."
"Yes there is."
"What do they sell?"
"Cookies and soda."
"What kind of cookies do you have?"
"We have shit cookies with vomit cream filling."
"You don't have chocolate?"
"Nope."
"Well, thanks anyway, bye."
I am still pissed off that Bolivia even has a military since they would get the living shit kicked out of them by any one of their neighbors except maybe Paraguay. Chile, Argentina, and Brazil would defeat them in a matter of days while Peru might take a week. In my past post I said nationalism is obselete but I should have been more direct;it is fucking stupid. If I were in charge of Bolivia I would fire every last soldier and hire a bunch of construction workers to pave Bolivia's pitiful roads and lay broadband wires in all of the cities that don't have any internet access. Not only is a Bolivian military useless but they are potentially harmful as the recent coup d'etat in Honduras should prove my point.
A friend of mine,who has crossed the land border from Bolivia into Argentina, described crossing the border as "leaving Kansas for Oz." That description is not to far off. The difference is just about as stark as leaving the U.S. for Mexico. Actually the difference is more stark because Mexico has well-paved roads. Everything here cost more but the quality of what you are buying more than makes up for the difference in price. I have spent more on food but I have eaten some amazing meals. The sheer size of the barbeque platters here makes my eyes pop out. The pizzas, pasta, and wine is good, too. The way to my heart is through my stomach and Argentina has already won my heart. In fact, I think I like it better here than in U.S. I have even heard that they have free health care here. With the good food and free health care here I can say that I might not come back.
Speaking of health care in America, I can honestly say that not reforming health care at all would probably be better than the bill the Democrats have advanced in Congress. There are not enough curse words in the English language to thoroughly convey how fucking pissed off I am about the two-party monopoly on power in the United States. The thing that pisses me off about the bill so much is the health insurance mandate. I currently don't have health insurance and there is actually a reason for it. I have had it in the past and discovered that they were so unresponsive and unhelpful that I cancelled it. Once I went to the doctor for a regular check-up only for the insurance company to drag their feet so long in paying the claim that I started getting collection letters from the doctor's office in the mail. The insurance company claimed they never even received my claim which was an outright lie. At that point, I sent only certified mail to them so they couldn't lie through their teeth like that. It still took about six months for them to pay only about %60 of the claim. After this, I figured it was best to just not have insurance and gamble that I never get really sick or break a bone. If yall think insurance companies are unresponsive and unhelpful now, just wait until you are forced to purchase health insurance. A public plan probably wouldn't be any better since the government would probably just subcontract out to the health insurance industry anyway. I can not accept health care reform that doesn't cut these thieving bastards out of the loop. This doesn't absolve hospitals, doctors,or the pharmaceutical industry from their culpability but I think the insurance companies are the worst culprits. This is yet another reason I might not come back to the U.S.
On a happier note, I have recently discovered some wonderful music online. Now that I have access to broadband, I have actually been able to give a good listen to Vladimir Visotsky. All I can say is that I want to learn Russian and take up chain smoking so I can sing like him. A friend of mine also turned me on to the Plasmatics. I can't believe I had never listened to any of their music. When I listen to it I just want to torch a cop car and slit some pig's throat. If any of yall don't think that there is censorship and coercion in the U.S. all yall have to look at is a picture of Wendy O. Williams after Milwaukee police beat the shit out of her while arresting her for an obscenity charge. As one music critic in the United States said, "Conservatives in America had castration anxiety," when they saw her chainsaw televisions in half. I am convinced that there are still efforts to erase the history of the Plasmatics as it is still very difficult to find their music. Youtube even seems to mysteriously fail when I am trying to load their videos. This makes me even more determined to rip off the music industry. I hope all of them go down with the shit music they have been trying to force down my throat through there control of the distribution channels. I am so happy that I have alternate routes of music discovery now that we have the internet.
I was in Jujuy, Argentina when my friend told me that Farrah Fawcett died. My response was, "Who fucking cares." Then I came back with the news that Michael Jackson had died. To me he died about twenty years ago but that is a moot point. I can't remember the last time people were so freaked out about a single person's death. It is like a god died or something. I suppose his music touched a lot of people but I can't say I really care. I want to ask people if they expected him to live for ever. For me Michael Jackson is far down the list of musicians who I find inspirational. Most of us mere mortals will never achieve the immortality that he has achieved through his music.
"Is there a comedor in town?"
" No."
"Is there internet?"
"No."
"Is there a even a store."
"Yes there is."
"What do they sell?"
"Cookies and soda."
"What kind of cookies do you have?"
"We have shit cookies with vomit cream filling."
"You don't have chocolate?"
"Nope."
"Well, thanks anyway, bye."
I am still pissed off that Bolivia even has a military since they would get the living shit kicked out of them by any one of their neighbors except maybe Paraguay. Chile, Argentina, and Brazil would defeat them in a matter of days while Peru might take a week. In my past post I said nationalism is obselete but I should have been more direct;it is fucking stupid. If I were in charge of Bolivia I would fire every last soldier and hire a bunch of construction workers to pave Bolivia's pitiful roads and lay broadband wires in all of the cities that don't have any internet access. Not only is a Bolivian military useless but they are potentially harmful as the recent coup d'etat in Honduras should prove my point.
A friend of mine,who has crossed the land border from Bolivia into Argentina, described crossing the border as "leaving Kansas for Oz." That description is not to far off. The difference is just about as stark as leaving the U.S. for Mexico. Actually the difference is more stark because Mexico has well-paved roads. Everything here cost more but the quality of what you are buying more than makes up for the difference in price. I have spent more on food but I have eaten some amazing meals. The sheer size of the barbeque platters here makes my eyes pop out. The pizzas, pasta, and wine is good, too. The way to my heart is through my stomach and Argentina has already won my heart. In fact, I think I like it better here than in U.S. I have even heard that they have free health care here. With the good food and free health care here I can say that I might not come back.
Speaking of health care in America, I can honestly say that not reforming health care at all would probably be better than the bill the Democrats have advanced in Congress. There are not enough curse words in the English language to thoroughly convey how fucking pissed off I am about the two-party monopoly on power in the United States. The thing that pisses me off about the bill so much is the health insurance mandate. I currently don't have health insurance and there is actually a reason for it. I have had it in the past and discovered that they were so unresponsive and unhelpful that I cancelled it. Once I went to the doctor for a regular check-up only for the insurance company to drag their feet so long in paying the claim that I started getting collection letters from the doctor's office in the mail. The insurance company claimed they never even received my claim which was an outright lie. At that point, I sent only certified mail to them so they couldn't lie through their teeth like that. It still took about six months for them to pay only about %60 of the claim. After this, I figured it was best to just not have insurance and gamble that I never get really sick or break a bone. If yall think insurance companies are unresponsive and unhelpful now, just wait until you are forced to purchase health insurance. A public plan probably wouldn't be any better since the government would probably just subcontract out to the health insurance industry anyway. I can not accept health care reform that doesn't cut these thieving bastards out of the loop. This doesn't absolve hospitals, doctors,or the pharmaceutical industry from their culpability but I think the insurance companies are the worst culprits. This is yet another reason I might not come back to the U.S.
On a happier note, I have recently discovered some wonderful music online. Now that I have access to broadband, I have actually been able to give a good listen to Vladimir Visotsky. All I can say is that I want to learn Russian and take up chain smoking so I can sing like him. A friend of mine also turned me on to the Plasmatics. I can't believe I had never listened to any of their music. When I listen to it I just want to torch a cop car and slit some pig's throat. If any of yall don't think that there is censorship and coercion in the U.S. all yall have to look at is a picture of Wendy O. Williams after Milwaukee police beat the shit out of her while arresting her for an obscenity charge. As one music critic in the United States said, "Conservatives in America had castration anxiety," when they saw her chainsaw televisions in half. I am convinced that there are still efforts to erase the history of the Plasmatics as it is still very difficult to find their music. Youtube even seems to mysteriously fail when I am trying to load their videos. This makes me even more determined to rip off the music industry. I hope all of them go down with the shit music they have been trying to force down my throat through there control of the distribution channels. I am so happy that I have alternate routes of music discovery now that we have the internet.
I was in Jujuy, Argentina when my friend told me that Farrah Fawcett died. My response was, "Who fucking cares." Then I came back with the news that Michael Jackson had died. To me he died about twenty years ago but that is a moot point. I can't remember the last time people were so freaked out about a single person's death. It is like a god died or something. I suppose his music touched a lot of people but I can't say I really care. I want to ask people if they expected him to live for ever. For me Michael Jackson is far down the list of musicians who I find inspirational. Most of us mere mortals will never achieve the immortality that he has achieved through his music.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Argentina Bound
After 5 days and 4 flats between Uyuni and Tupiza, I am ready to get out of this country. Don't get me wrong. Bolivia is an incredibly beautiful country, a geologists wet dream where every other hill is a different color, but I am tired of the shitty roads and the cold, I repeat COLD, nights. One morning, recently, I camped in a valley that was still above 13,000 feet. This was problematic because it takes longer for the sunshine to reach every corner of the valley and, hence, stays cold longer. It was so cold that the small streams in the valley froze solid. I tested the hardness of the ice by smashing rocks the size of my head to pieces on it. I was so happy to finally reach civilization again that I am staying in Tupiza for three days before I ride the final two or three days to the Argentinian border.
I am looking forward to riding on paved roads again in Argentina as I have recently discovered a couple of cracks in my third rear rim. I am also looking forward to the Argentinian barbeques as I have recently been partially starving myself as there are no places to buy food. I go to sleep at night salivating and fantasizing about food I want to cook and eat. The parrilladas await me. Sorry vegetarians, I am going to eat so much meat that yall might as well put me on a cholesterol I.V. drip. I already have friends and parrilladas waiting for me.
On a manliness scale of 1 to 10, a bike trip is probably somewhere between a 9 and 10 so I am not afraid to say that I love ballet. It is so funny how one's perspective can completely change over time. I remember when I was 9 and my mom tried to put me in ballet lessons. This experiment didn't last long as I steadfastly remained in the corner of the studio and refused to participate. I also remember my mom dragging me to see Gregory Hines and Mikhail Baryshnikof in the movie White Nights. As a kid this pissed me off but I had the unusual priviledge of seeing the movie for a second time last night. Dance movies are one of my guilty pleasures and I have a serious man-crush on Baryshnikof. His dancing seems to defy the laws of physics. Gregory Hines was no slouch but Baryshnikof is fucking spectacular. Most of the music in the movie is shit since it comes from the 80s (Yeah I know, it was the golden era of heavy metal and punk but the rest of the music is shit) but I was turned on to the music of Vladimir Vysotsky which is worth checking out. This is another reason I can't wait to get out of Bolivia. I need to indulge my high-speed broadband addiction and watch as many videos of Vysotsky and Baryshnikov as possible.
I am looking forward to riding on paved roads again in Argentina as I have recently discovered a couple of cracks in my third rear rim. I am also looking forward to the Argentinian barbeques as I have recently been partially starving myself as there are no places to buy food. I go to sleep at night salivating and fantasizing about food I want to cook and eat. The parrilladas await me. Sorry vegetarians, I am going to eat so much meat that yall might as well put me on a cholesterol I.V. drip. I already have friends and parrilladas waiting for me.
On a manliness scale of 1 to 10, a bike trip is probably somewhere between a 9 and 10 so I am not afraid to say that I love ballet. It is so funny how one's perspective can completely change over time. I remember when I was 9 and my mom tried to put me in ballet lessons. This experiment didn't last long as I steadfastly remained in the corner of the studio and refused to participate. I also remember my mom dragging me to see Gregory Hines and Mikhail Baryshnikof in the movie White Nights. As a kid this pissed me off but I had the unusual priviledge of seeing the movie for a second time last night. Dance movies are one of my guilty pleasures and I have a serious man-crush on Baryshnikof. His dancing seems to defy the laws of physics. Gregory Hines was no slouch but Baryshnikof is fucking spectacular. Most of the music in the movie is shit since it comes from the 80s (Yeah I know, it was the golden era of heavy metal and punk but the rest of the music is shit) but I was turned on to the music of Vladimir Vysotsky which is worth checking out. This is another reason I can't wait to get out of Bolivia. I need to indulge my high-speed broadband addiction and watch as many videos of Vysotsky and Baryshnikov as possible.
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