Rome, Mediterrenean
Organizzatrici di risse interculturali di altissimo livello – Top level intercultural fights organizersArchivio per Who cares?
GF8 Transgender: communication experiment
This post ain’t about Gf (Big Brother)8 trasgender participant (beautiful-lady-Bambi-eyes-super-smart-much-more-womanish-than-me-screw-her called Silvia). If you ended up on this post lookin for her, well, too bad for you. This post is in fact a serious meta-communication experiment. There is a nice tool called BlogStats, on WordPress, that mainly tells you how many clicks does your blog get every day, and which Tags ( which is the XXI millenium name for “keywords”) are the most frequently searched in the Net. Checking out my BlogStats I found out that the second “top post” ever has been M’s one on the Italian Big Brother new ( and suprisingly smarter than usual) participants. Deepening the research, it came out that tags such as “GF” “Transgender” were often associated, in the websearch, to words such as “transgression”, “easy” and stuff like that.
So my little experiment will mainly consist in publishing this post, that says nothing at all about GF8 nor about transgenders, with the same tags M used for her post. After that I’ll just wait and check the BlogStats every two hours and let you know.
Now, you may think I’ve got nothing to do. From your point of view it could seem true. I work for an association that gathers Radio and TV broadcasters from all over the Mediterranean and links them in the organisation of conferences, co-productions, festivals and so on. My job mainly consists in making sure that all of them are able to fly from their hometown to the place an event is taking place (let’s say, Bucharest) and that they can enter the Country the event is settled in ( let’s say Romania) without being arrested for lack of Visa. After that I have to make sure they have a place to sleep in, one to eat at ( possibly not the same) and, sometimes, act a little like an idiot to make them laugh ( for example singing Adriano Celentano’s “Azzurro” in a restaurant in Alexandria, while wearing silly phones with a microphone as I was Britney Spears).
In the last days I’ve been waiting to know if I gotta go to Romania and fight in person with Howard Jonhson’ General Manager for the bloody room release policy, after I’ve already spent last week doing that on the phone ( but in the end I guess that staring him in the eye and miming what i mean could help, since I’ve tried badly to let him understand me in english with no success and looks like Rumanian general managers have serious problem with the subject-verb-object concatenation).
Now, the thing is that my colleagues and I make every day huge efforts to make people understand the richness and the beauty of this Mediterranean enlarged world we live in. This blog as well is about that, and the idea that it has been visited mainly by jerks looking for sum hot stuff about Big Brother transgender, drives us nuts.
For this reason, this post is a very serious experiment about the avarage IQ of this blog’s visitors. I’m afraid to know the results. I’ll let you know.
Is everything falling apart or did I cross the Stargate?
Sometimes it happens that I feel all day long as I had walked on a dog poo with my brand new ( ways too expensive for my budget) shoes. Dunno if you recognize the sensation of being in a world that looks exactly like yours, but where everything is a little more annoying than usual not to be noticed. The feeling I’m talking about is the one you experience when you listen to the news, and there is not even the littlest “who cares” news to laugh about. It’s when the hugest woman you’ve ever seen stands right in front of the bus door and doesn’t let you out, so you miss your stop and get to the office too late to drink a coffee before starting a working day. It’s when someone you really love says something you didn’t expect from him/her, not something really unpleasent, but still. It’s when you start looking at yourself struggling in the world from the outside, as you were in a ’60s videogame or in a candid camera. It’s when your laugh stretches a little too much towards a sigh. You cannot really complain about all this, because people starve and die everyday, but still you know it’s a pain in the ass. Maybe the world is falling apart. Maybe apocalypse it’s coming. Maybe it’s only that my periods are about to come.
A life for rent
It’s sales time, that for a girl who got hired for the first time in her life ( after five years spent working for free ) means the paradise. Too bad that I usually sit behind my desk at 09.30 in the morning and get off at 08.00 p.m., so I can fall in love with the shop windows only platonically and have to keep being dressed up as a stagiaire ( which it’s a metaphore for ”I look completely messed up”). Anyway, saving money isn’t a bad idea either, since I’ve noticed ( and I’m not a finance genius at all, I’m more the goat-for-cow-swap kind of girl) that lately people is getting poorer and poorer ( maybe switching from Liras to Euro wasn’t such a good idea. Now we can wander around Europe as much as we like, but we have no money to go back home…) and have started looking for alternatives. Take a look at the newspapers, the only ones who can still afford a standard lifestyle ( standard: not being obliged to fight with the squirrels for a bunch of acorns in the city park) are those who have been able to give something ( anything) for rent. Of course, who has an apartment, a house, a cave ( please, don’t laugh, caves in Milan are bloody expensive…and romantic, as well, you and your sweetheart could pretend to be Mary and Joseph at Christmas Eve) nowadays can consider himself only a step below Onassis. Anyway, even if you aren’t so lucky, don’t bring yourself down. Just take a look around you: almost everything you own could be useful for someone else. You could buy a webpage, and give the pixels for rent at one dollar each, as in the Million Dollar Homepage . You could give your pet for rent ( please, notice that the renting rates depend from how cool your pet is. You could get more or less 6 euros/hour for your boring boring turtle and about 500 euros/hour for your guitar playing monkey). If you don’t own a pet and you have no idea of 
what a pixel is but you own a huge self-esteem, you could always apply for a job at Lease Your Body and walk around with the latest Big Mac commercial stick on your forhead. I’ve read of people leasing the parking space in front of their house and also of people giving their Granny for rent ( don’t think it’s evil, the sweet old lady probably wouldn’t even notice the difference between her grandchildren and a Bengali family, if it wasn’t for the effects of curry on her digestive system). Anyway, the thing is, if you’re broke and sales are almost over, quit thinking about making a robbery and start leasing!
Crazy, crazy world
Ladies and Gentleman, there you are today’s breaking news.
CHINA – Fluorescent Pig gives birth to little fluorescent pigs.
Well, aknowledging that young pigs could have their mother’s same features really astonishes me. By the way, I’m wondering why in the name of the Lord pigs should be fluorescent. Maybe to allow mankind to eat ham at night.
GB – The “Times” tells over-36 women not to wear miniskirt to avoid “the Hobbit effect”
Is there a concrete reason why the age limit is 36? Should women burn their miniskirt the day of their 37 birthday? What does the “Times” have against Hobbit? I find Frodo Baggings very sexy. And, most of all, why doesn’t the “Times” mind it’s own bloody businesses?
USA – Taser, American Electric guns company, has launched a new gun model “for ladies”. The gun will be available in plenty of girlish colours ( pink, purple, flower – power) and will include an mp3.
Here’s the payoff: shoot no matter who, but never forget to be stilish.
Things will never be the same again
French Italian Team swimmer Laure Manadou: “With Luca Marin ( swimmer as well, same team) is over because he was jealous”.
Now, I’m not that much into sport gossip but I’ve been having enough about these two sweethearts since the very beginning of their relationship. I mean, it was also kind of entertaining in the beginning (first five minutes), with the French girl and the Italian boy belonging to opposite teams and then falling in love, an example that Italian and French folks do not necessarily interact hitting each other with the head. Yeah, it was nice hearing of Laure moving to Italy to stay closer to Luca and to see them fighting against evil and annoying newspapers ( I’m sure that when Laure started to draw the name of his lover and silly hearts on her palms to be shown at the end of competitions she didn’t know at all there would be flocks of cameramen and photographers waiting for her…yeah, right). And then came the storm. Vocal fights, mediatic fights, engagement rings thrown all over the place ( and hitting poor unaware italian swimmer Magnini in the face while doing it). And now this last, interesting declaration.
Poor Laure, I can’t really see why that stupid Luca boy was so jealous…in the end, what has she done to make him being so jealous?
Did she by any chance model for some hard pictures, showing worldwide how does a swimmer look like under the swimming suit?
Did – by any chance – she start to go out with some Stalius ( Stalius?) French swimmer a week after the end of her love story with Luca? Well, yes she did.
Most of all, beside the visibility this kind of events give to sports that are often dismissed - which is really unfair, according to me, since there is so much more athletic dignity in a swimmer than in a soccer player whose primary vexation concerns getting a new haircut - why do we care about that?
Elizabeth II, hi-tech queen
Yesterday I read my first 2008 newspaper and get back into breaking news after ten Media free days ( my mother believes TV is evil so we’ve never had it at home…I’m not sure she’s that wrong). The news I loved most was about Queen Elizabeth ( 81 years old) playing with the ultimate Nintendo Wii Playstation. Now, couple of observations about that.
1) I think hi-tech grannies are super cute, but according to me they also look a little weird, like the guy at the post office who has the hairiest face but never forgets to put on his sparkling eye shadow. I mean, you’ve been living for a hundred years, you’ve seen wars, you’re the queen of England…no one wants you to be also hi-tech. Queens aren’t hi – tech. Queens wear hideous pale pink hats and drink tea.
2) The Wii Elizabeth was playing with was actually Kate Middleton’s Christmas present to William and I’ve never seen a granny stealing her nephew’s Christmas present to use it herself.
3) Now, I could change my mind about hi tech grannies if, at least, the game she played was some very rock n roll game…dunno…Resident Evil or Tomb Raider…something with loads of zombies, a little splatter, a little kinky…dunno. Not at all. She used Ultimate Playstation Wii to play bowling. What? Why? This is not being hi-tech, this is being lazy!
