In Crete, they fire guns in the air to celebrate Christ's resurrection. This has nothing to do with firing AT people, which is how the US celebrates Christ's hit movie.
In Paris, I discovered the technical reason les affichistes didn't happen, say, in NYC. (It's not that exciting.)
In Crete, motherfuckers do not believe in discrete driving lanes, either as white lines on the road or as things to think about. This presented a problem only for a day or so, which begs the question: How many behaviors could we discard and find ourselves not missing? What would be really difficult to change in day-to-day life? And for who?
In Paris, les hommes at FNAC could not help me find the Anouk record, despite being very friendly. (I found it.) The FNACsters are pushing a new release from the Tyrese-meets-Solaar MC named Passi, but I did not buy eet.
In Crete, there are many mountain goats.
In Paris, there are few mountain goats but many impressively delineated arrangements of flowers in public places which the goats could eat, should they decide to visit.
In Paris, the greve is more popular than red Orangina. (We could only find the drink at le yper yper designed airport.) A greve--this one without a parade and the mayhem of some higher octane greves--is why we could not see these photographs. This seemed entirely appropriate. But we did see this exhibit of photographs by the late Ziba/Zahra Kazemi.Posted by Sasha at April 22, 2004 06:06 AM | TrackBack