ZA/UM: Shine A Light

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Shine A Light

Inimesed on liiga kaua

elanud eituses.

On aeg avada oma silmad

ja näha Nihil Bilanssi

9 kommentaari:

Joanna EllmannMay 30, 2010 7:22 PM
Nii mõnigi sai nyyd meilile ypris mitu mu redigeeritud kommentaari. inspireerituna sellest postist.
Kõva post on, tõesti.
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Joanna EllmannMay 30, 2010 7:25 PM
Just vaatasin seda ka, et sobib eelmise postitusega kokku. Mingil imelikus väljas.
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N. BilanssMay 30, 2010 11:10 PM
Siiraim tänu soojade sõnade eest! Eksperimentaalpostitus oligi mõeldud sujuvaks üleminekuks luulelainelt peatselt puhkevale filosoofiatormile.

Siin heade sõprade ringis võin - tõsi küll, kergelt punastades - tunnistada, et tegu oli esimese luuletusega minu sulest umbes viimase kümne aasta vältel.
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Joanna EllmannMay 31, 2010 12:05 AM
See on väga hea, kui varsti puhkeb filosoofiatorm! Jään ootama!

Ja tubli, lulk tuli hästi välja ja ma poleks kyll arvanud, et esimesega yle kymne aasta on tegu. :)
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AnonymousMay 31, 2010 4:12 PM
Mulle tundub see kõik justkui atmosfäärilise introna, jääb loota et kui Bilanss biidi maha paneb ja räppima hakkab, on oodata intro-vääriliselt kõva andmist.
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Lilian Marie MerilaMay 31, 2010 11:00 PM
Open your knees and feel the breeze
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Conversation KillerOctober 18, 2010 12:01 AM
Sündisin Bishkekis vaeses kaluriperes. Juba lapsest saadik oli mu peenisel üksteise otsas kaks pilu, nii et ma kusesin alatasa endal kas näo või varbad täis. Kord teismeeas sattusin kangi alla kusema kui kalli autoga tahtis tänavalt sisse pöörata rikas mees. See mees tegi mindki rikkaks. Võtsin endale naise, see aga oli nõid - kui ta öösel magas, tulid selja pealt nööbid lahti ja seest lendasid välja türastand hinged. Riisusid ja rüüstasid.
Papp ütles, et hinged tuleb kuuvarjutuse ajal haua alla juua. Läksin jõe äärde ja kukkusin jõge tühjaks jooma. Siis kusesin kahest pilust välja nõnda, et ühest tuli vett ja forelli, teisest vett ja kullaliiva. Sellest joast, kust tuli forelli, sai Läänemeri. Too meri sündis õnnetu tähe all ja kõik riigid, mis seal ümber olid, jäid vaeseks. Teisest jõest sündis Don ja inimesed ehitasid sinna peale jõuka Rostovi. Lõppu lasin hea törtsu naftaga gaasi.
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Aleksander RostovOctober 18, 2010 12:12 AM
wow
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Tiit Vähi viimane mõteDecember 25, 2010 9:31 PM
Silmet..
elik..
selmet..
ReplyDelete

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NINA HAGEN - SEEMANN

Apocalypticat mäletate? See oli selline tšellodega soome tšellode ettevõtmine, kes mängisid classy nägudega kavereid ja müüsid igast kahtlastes maades roppult albumeid.

Ja siis meil oli lahedalt rögiseva häälega ida-saksa pungitar Nina Hagen (ta oli kojn).

Ja siis meil oli vahva vasakpoolne ansambel Rammstein [ka idasaksamaalt (fuck the fall, bring back the wall!)], mis oli iseenesest normaalne ettevõtmine ja nägi hea välja, aga albumikaupa oli kuidagi üksluisevõitu kuulata.

Ja kokku sai mingi jumala vägeva asja nagu. Check it out!

kõik presidendi mellonid

ROBERT KURVITZ is a normal guy. Just a normal guy, a straight up fella. Not that different from you, actually. Man has a job and an education, contributes to society. Mildly ideological in as far as he values human life, but nothing too out there. Everything about him is trustworthy and normal and there is little else to say on the subject. Maybe it's YOU, who's the suspicious character?

MARTIN LUIGA is the endproduct of millenias of philosophical thought. Ever notice how through the ages philosophers have been sketching an idea of a better man, an improved human being? From prehistoric thought to humble greek beginnings, from drugaddled fin-de-siecle powerhouses of thought, throughout the 20th century - everything has been adding up to this moment. There he stands, transdescending from the metaphysical to the very real, The Overman.

ALEKSANDER ROSTOV, once an alcoholic youth of some renown, prowling the streets like any other. Today, half a decade later, he's a semiwithdrawn misanthropic recluse, spending his days hissing petti insults at artists. Being one hismself he has learned, more than anything else, to despise any who refer to themselves as such. He does this with impressive gusto, with thunderous passion outdone only by his borderline unhealthy interest in the medium of video games.

HELEN HINDPERE has so many drafts in her blogger account it's not even funny. An archetype of a ZA/UM reader turned contributor, she is an aspiring lady of letters, a writer-to-be if you will. Her flaming red hair signaling both the tone of her heart as well as her passion for words, books and all those boring dusty learny things. A woefully rare combination of kojn, smarts and goodwill she also holds down a part-time job as the unofficial secret mascot of ZA/UM.

JOANNA ELLMANN is that rarest of phenomen - a poetess (yes, we though Sappho was the last one as well). Her work is appropriately described as either "mystic" or "visionary". Accordingly, she shows an academic competence in poetic tradition, as well as shamanistic theory and other fields of ethnology. As a promoter of culture she's taken up an avid interest in many an endeovor, as long as they display a certain degree of radical thinking and poetic value.

KASPAR KALVET is a globe-trotting financial analyst. When he's not busy flooding the market with incomprehensible real-estate instruments, he travels the far reaches of this planet, admiring his handy-work unfold as financial catastrophes. A well-read gentleman, with ice-cold wits, Kalvet dissects matters as complicated as global economics or the stream-of-conciousness narrative technique. As an ardent geographer, expect his reports from the vertigo depths of lake Altai, via Gobi desert to the Land of Fire and Ice.

RUUDU ULAS has taken up the unforgiving mission of creating meaningful imagery using delicate machinery and vicious chemical compounds, darkness and light, although said practice has been trivialized, shunned, commercialized, misused and spat upon since it’s very beginnings, although it brings more pain than pleasure and her presence would be weighty enough if she never did a damn thing, spending her life critizising her surroundings instead.

LILIAN MARIE MERILA is a professional fashion photographer. An advocate of beauty, both human or otherwise, she admires cheek bones and collar bones, sure, though a river of late evening traffic, all diamond headlights and radience... goes just as well. In fashion terms this means she walks the tight-rope between glamour and rock´n´roll. With her sense of style and a laid-back attitude towards culture, she represents a sort of lady of blessings, lending an air of credibility to everything she comes to approve of.

MADE LUIGA is the loneliest woman in the world. Imagine Beth Gibbons, only farther up to the north, trapped underground by the forces of capital to supply the unlearned with precious jewellery for all eternity. When not toiling for the continuation of said horrors, however, she's an avid microhistorian, well-versed in the course of beauty and a promising critic and letters-man.

HELEN HAAV is a Kantian judicator. She spends most of her days judicating from the Kingdom of Ends. When she's not judicating from the Kingdom of Ends, you can find her - there, in the Kindgom of Ends. Judicating. Judge, jury, executioner style. Always outnumbered, never outgunned. Judicar Haav is what they call her in that hypothetical state of existence derived from the categorical imperative. Benevolent, merciless, she puts the "Kantian" in our Kantian Death Squad. Tread lightly!

JIM ASHILEVI is a former child actor. You might remember him (please remember him!) as Muzzy's little friend, the alien, from the English language educational show "Muzzy Comes Back". But Muzzy never came back, the shoot was over, the red eye of the camera switched off, and with it, Jim faded into obscurity. He's been desperately trying to climb back into the limelight ever since, publishing plays ("Like Boys in the Rain", "Porcelainsmoke" - please know some of them!) and a measure of short prose fiction . . . and theatre directing . . . and film . . . whatever it takes, basically.

KRISTO VIIDING is a master thespian and resident of the National Drama Theater. His dashing siegfried looks and baritone delivery have earned him the prestigious Voldemar Panso award. And with it, a spot in the highest echelon of our nation’s thespians: the cast of a certain Home in the center of a certain City. When not flexing his acting muscles, Mr Viiding endeavors to coalesce film, prose, music and poetry into a kind of supreme amalgamation of arts –The Ultimate Art, if you will - Nicola Tesla, Wall of Light style!

TRIIN TASUJA Rather being lost than found, this loud- and dirtymouthed jenny-from-the-block character is never too steady, calm or satisfied with things she sees. Fear has become her partner in crime ever since the day she saw the big crack between her own made up world and The Big Fat Reality. From that on you may never know when one battle begins and other one ends.

CAROLINA PIHELGAS is a writer and an avid translator of poesy. Having translated from five languages, poetic analysis follows naturally. In her own poems fraulein Pihelgas has been known to reference the many bizarre places she has visited as a travelling minstrel. She has, for example, sailed the Pacific in a small sailyacht. Although she appears to be taken at the moment, her interests include: red wine, anarchy.

THE PARADOX THAT FUELS THE PLANES is a mystery wrapped inside an enigma wrapped inside a conundrum wrapped inside a contradiction wrapped inside CONVERSATION KILLER wrapped inside a mere man - confused by the seeming victory of capitalism and lack of alternatives, hiding behind blind contrarianism, posing no threat to the ruling elite - wrapped inside a weapon pointed at every single atom in existence with a particularly watchful eye on those that constitute the clientele of Estonian Air.

SIIM "ŠNURKA" NURKLIK is a gatling-gun of a man. Look up, notice the speck of light in the night sky? That's the "Ultima Vox" calibrating its many orbital lasers. Look lower! That is a flock of B-52's parting the air at subsonic (but still impressive) speeds. Look even lower, that, my friend, is a fleet of dreadnoughts cleaving the oceans, their gray cannons glimmer in the blinding noon sun. Now look around you, it's a congress of tanks, their caterpillar crawlers muddied with the dry brown blood of enemies. Listen, hear the uneasy silence - they are all loaded up and ready to engage, their thick reinforced hulls packed to the brim with the deadliest of payloads: Words. Best you hope the gun ain't pointed at you, son.

POLIITILISELT KORREKTNE PRINTSESS is no damsel in distress. True, you can find her sitting high in her ivory tower, but she is there quite of her own volition, honing her academic tools and her famed dry wit, and woe betide those on whom she unleashes her weapons! She has no patience for the follies and frivolities of lesser men, and her turnoffs include: enthusiasm, optimism.