Ljubljana at night #2
Originally uploaded by Domen Savic.

I went to grab a bite before I went to listen to the lecture and it was this hip place (yeah right), which has Radio Salomon tuned in 24/7. For those of you who are currently not in Slovenia, you can check out the website and listen to the clip. Then multiply this clip by thousands and you get an approximate feeling of the tunes they are airing. Plus, the DJs are just like the clips. Repeatitive, dull and boring. Anyway, they were asking people whether they would like to hear a x-mas carol called “Last Christmas”. Five people voted. One said no. Four said yes. My text message did not get through in time. We lost. The song was played. My burger lost its taste. You all know this appetite killer unless you`ve been stuck in the jungle for the last twenty years. It`s been remade so many times that nobody knows the original author (/me ducks under a flame of comments).
I commented before on the christmas frenzy, but this carol thing is the cherry on the top of the cake.
I mean…my god! What is the reason people listen to this “music”? And please don`t say lyrics. Or the tune. Or anything remotely connected with music. Cause carols are not music. They are the exact opposite of music. They don`t lift you up. They drag you down, beat you within every inch of your life and then piss on you. Twice. They disgust me. It`s like…there should be a label on the x-mas carols CD, saying “Do not listen to this sober!” and “Do not listen to this while operating heavy machinery!”. Imagine a trailer truck driver bobbing his head to “jingle bells”. Juck. And honking on every “..way we go. Hey!”. So, since we don`t wanna bitch all the time and we wanna be creative, a couple of years back, I`ve written the ultimate christmas carol. In the nature of carols, my carol is also a remake…so you know the melody. The lyrics are…


Jingle bells,
shotgun shells,
town is blown away.
O, what fun it is to ride,
through a city with a gun.

Dashing through the snow,
mining all our ways,
people are dead now,
silent are their prays.

We come on our hill,
bringing out the flank,
blood of dead we spill,
scorching with our tank.


Everything is dead,
their dead shroud is spread,
see ya, little prick,
we’ll be back next week.


Pretty nifty, huh? Think video.

Another photo from the Ljubljana night life. Same as the first one, only I turned around. Aha! Little mysteries of the great masters. Still have to get a tripod, my hands are way too shaky for a stunt like this. Should at least press the camera against a pole or something. A pole or a swede. They`re sturdy.

And as for answering Nina`s question…
I do. Take the camera every where I go. I would like to thank my friend Tilen for letting me borrow his camera, trusting me enough. It still works! Photography was always a secret love of mine. The latent one if you will. Mainly cause it`s more expensive than poetry which basically requires a piece of paper, a pencil and way too much free time. And I guess it`s something new. Taking photos. For me at least. The real trick is looking at old stuff and seeing something new in it. Something good in every single thing.

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