Sibutramina pentru suflet

English version below!!!

Mutu a luat sibutramina. Asa, si?
Stai asa, ca sibutramina provoaca reactii adverse, e un medicament interzis de UE, poate sa dea risc mare de atac de cord, mascheaza alte substantte dopante ! BU-fucking-HU ! Cata cerneala de ziar si pixeli de imagine se pot consuma pentru smecheria ca Mutu s-a dopat cu asa ceva ? Si, by the way, cat rahat maro si aromat se poate manca tot pe tema asta ?

Ok, e grav, s-a dopat, e obsedat de greutate si vrea sa slabeasca, isi poate mari rezistenta la efort, BLABLABLABLABLA si iarasi BLA ! Trecand peste bullshitul oficial, peste campaniile media, peste intoxicarile si manipularile si BLABLA-urile aferente cu cine i-a dat medicamentul, de ce, cum si pentru ce, hai sa ne uitam mai in profunzime la faza asta.

1) Oricat s-ar chinui baiatul asta, nu va reusi sa scape de eticheta de drogat. Nici mie nu imi place sa il stiu asa, dar asta e. Cel mai probabil Mutu nu a renuntat nici o secunda la prietenele lui, Coca si Ina, care o concureaza cu succes in patul conjugal pe Consuelo. Oricum se stie ca daca esti etichetat in vreun fel, asa ramai pentru o vreme indelungata.

2) Mutu e cam prost (partea 1): pretene, daca bagam eu la buzunar milioanele lui de euro pe sezon doar ca sa dau piciorul intr-o besica rotunda de piele/cauciuc/compozite, pai fratzica, intrebam doctorul si daca am voie sa respir aerul de pe Olimpico, de exemplu, ca poate aia fumeaza in tribune si poate mi-o iau la testul anti-doping.

3) Mutu e cam prost (partea a 2-a): a fost prins consumand cocaina/sibutramina/droguri cam de 3 ori. Poate o data ai avut ghinion, poate a 2-a oara ai fost influentat, dar deja la a 3-a esti prost. Oricum Marc Bosnich, colegul de la Chelsea prins cu droguri alaturi de Mutu o spune mai bine: "toti folosesc droguri, numai noi am fost prosti si ne-am lasat prinsi". Plus k am inteles ca Mutu e cam guritza-sparta (fara legatura cu prietenul Contra) si cam face caz de consumul lui...

4) Mutu este doar exemplul martirului sacrificat pe altarul razboiului anti-doping. Problema este ca farmaceuticele vor avea mereu cautare in lumea sportului. Toti sportivii folosesc anabolizante, de acord ? Altfel cum se explica doborarile inuman de brutale ale recordului la 100 de metri plat in ultimele luni de catre Usain Bolt ? Si oare chiar am vrea sa il vedem pe jamaican alergand suta in 10-11 secunde (fara dopaj) cand am avut, de exemplu, colegi de liceu care alergau suta cu 12-13 secunde?

5) Dopajul, dupa parerea mea, este irelevant in fotbal. Pe dimensiunea efortului fizic este intr-adevar ceva grav, daca medicamentul te ajuta sa alergi mai mult, mai repede si sa nu obosesti. Pe de alta parte, anumitor sportivi poti sa le dai toate drogurile dopante din lume. Banel alearga tot meciul, si ce rezolva saracul ? Si exemplul meu preferat: Inzaghi ! Inzaghi ar putea sa ia toate substantele anabolizante din lume ca tot prost e ! Nici un drog nu te poate ajuta sa dai ca lumea in minge. In cazul lui Inzaghi, mingea vine de pe una din lateralele terenului, sare din gazon, se loveste de glezna lui (unde de fapt trebuia sa fie latul piciorului), se loveste de bara, ricoseaza din portar, il loveste pe Inzaghi in fund (la fel de bine s-ar putea sa fie in spate sau in sold) si intra in poarta: GOOOOOL ! Chiar daca Inzaghi ar puti de la o posta a doping, chiar nu merita controlat, pe bune !

Sibutramina lui Mutu este de fapt sibutramina sufletelor noastre. Cati sunt oare cei atinsi de drama lui Mutu, nedorind sa il vada incheindu-si cariera mai devreme ? Si, mai ales, cati ar fi afectati de absenta anabolizantelor din sport, absenta care ar provoca scaderea performantelor sportive pe care sunt obisnuiti sa le aplaude si sa le proslaveasca cel putin o data pe weekend ?

English translation:

Mutu took sibutramine. So?
Wait, that sibutramine causes adverse reactions, it is a drug banned by the EU,it can give a high risk of heart attack, it can mask other doping substances! BU-fucking-hoo! How much newspaper ink and pixels of image can be consumed by this flick that Mutu took some drug? And, by the way, how much brown flavored shit can some people eat relating to this story ?

Okay, it's serious, he used the drug, he is obsessed with weight and wants to lose it, the drug can increase resistance to effort, and BLABLABLABLABLA BLA! Going away from the official mumbo-jumbo, media campaigns, over-intoxication and manipulation and all the crap related to who gave him the medicine, why, how and for what, let's take a deeper look at this situation.

1) No matter how much he will try, this guy Mutu will never escape the label of a drug addict. I don't like to know him that way either, but that's the situation. Most probably Mutu never gave up on his friends, Coca and Ina (Coca Ina - cocaina - cocaine), who are successfully giving Consuelo a run for her money in bed. However it is known that if you are tagged in any way, you will have that tag for a long time.

2) Mutu's pretty stupid (Part 1): my friends, if I would pocket the millions of euros per season Mutu gets, just to kick a ball made of leather / rubber / composite materials around, by God, I would ask the doctor even if he would allow me to breathe the air on the Olimpico stadium, for example, coz maybe those guys are smoking in the stands and I may fail my drug test !

3) Mutu's pretty stupid (Part 2): he was caught consuming cocaine / sibutramine / drugs about 3 times. Maybe one time there was bad luck, may the 2nd time he was influenced, but the 3rd time is raw stupidity. However Mark Bosnich, the Chelsea teammate caught taking drugs along with Mutu says: "All sportsmen use drugs, but we were the only ones stupid enough to get caught!". Plus, I understand that Mutu is kind of a brag relating to his drug consumption habits...

4) Mutu is just an example of a martyr sacrificed on the altar of the anti-doping war. The problem is that pharmaceuticals will always be in high demand in the world of sport. All athletes use anabolics, agreed? How else could one explain the brutal and inhuman knockdowns of the record for the 100 meters flat athletics event in recent months by Usain Bolt? And would one really want to see the Jamaican running 100 meters in 10-11 seconds (without doping) when I had, for example, fellow high school mates running the same distance in 12-13 seconds?

5) Doping in football is irrelevant, in my opinion. Yes, when it comes to increasing the rate of one's physical effort it is a really serious thing if the drug can help you run more quickly and not get tired. On the other hand, some athletes can be given all the drugs in the world. Banel can run over the entire duration of a match, and what does he achieve, the poor guy? And my favorite example: Inzaghi!
Inzaghi could take all the anabolic substances in the world and would still be the crappiest football player! No drug can help you kick the ball right. If the pass for Inzaghi comes from one side of the pitch, it would jump from the grass, it would be hit by his ankle (even though he intended to kick it with his toe), it would strike the bar, bounce from the goalkeeper, hit Inzaghi in the bottom (might as well be his back or hip) and enter the net: GOOOOOAAAAL! Even if Inzaghi would smell from a mile away like he is taking drugs, it's just not worth it to test him, really !

Mutu's sibutramine is actually the sibutramine of our souls. How many people are actually touched by Mutu's tragedy, people who do not want to see him ending his career early? And, above all, how many would be affected by the absence of performance-enhancing drugs in sports, the absence of which would cause the decrease of sporting performances we are accustomed to applaud and glorify at least once a weekend?

Balkanico

It's a distinct lifestyle. It's an ideology. It's a Molotov cocktail of excesses. It's romantic rationality, it's reasonable romanticism, interchangeable and intermingling.

It's when rules are not respected, not internalized, not legitimized. It's when you buy a 10,000 euro car, but you drive it on a road with huge potholes. It's when you go to university and still talk like a cab driver. It's when you are a liberal intellectual yet pursue backward interests.It's when you fight for the sake of fighting. It's when women who are strong and independent look for the freedom to date rich men. It's when intelligent men care for trophy-women.

But it's also when you find similar meanings in languages beyond borders you thought were so different from one another. It's when you imagine the worst yet you experience the best. It's when you expect to find the Wild East, yet you find the West. It's when you stress difference and you find similarity. It's when you enforce globalization and you find nationality and ethnicity. It's when you think everything is bad and good pops up from somewhere.

It appears strange to the Westerners and the Easterners alike. It's not about location, time, ideas, it is about a state of things, a powerful characteristic. It's about uniformity in plurality and plurality in uniformity. It is the place where a new "middle ground" is born. It is about a new pure race. It is something by itself. For me, this it's simply...Balkanico.

Fall 2005

Some people sing about the summer of 1968 or the generation 74-75. The Fall of 2005 was my 74-75 moment, and the summer of 2006 my summer of love (friends know why ;) ). I will not go into detail about the summer of 2006, you just have to know i was 20 and in love, one of the best contexts in which anyone could be.
But I would now like to talk about the fall of 2005.
It was the beginning of October...I was in a hall full of students, my colleagues in the FSPUB program. I only knew the guy sitting next to me on my right, Mihnea, a colleague from high-school. Outside it was starting to look like autumn and I was trying to look as smart as possible considering I was in college now. All the pre-fabricated images about Romanian college life (harsh conditions, stuck-up student nerds and tyrannical professors) were slowly fading away...
The crowd around me was very colourful. Distinctively "cool" people were hanging out around smart-looking techy guys with laptops in front of them, indy-dressed girls could be seen next to introverts, lonely fellows were waiting for the teacher and long-time friendships were resumed as people who used to live in the same city or learn in the same high school were reunited...A lot of noise, novelty, youth, sun, beauty, a feeling of a new stage in our lives and a positive emotion of the unknown were battling for supremacy in the souls of our generation.
As Prof. Avramescu got in, I was chewing gum in my seat in the middle of the hall. The prof started talking, listing the requirements the faculty had. After stopping for a minute to scold me for chewing gum (like! how embarassing!), he also listed our priorities and advantages. All things aside, I was glad to have him as our almost parental guide in what concerned classes, faculty policies, study potential...
During break, we all flocked in the yard. The sun was shining and 18-to-20-year-old voices filled the air. While I was drinking coke on a bench with some people from Transylvania, others were exchanging cigarettes or opening up bags of chips. Smiles were all over as class distinctions, high-school rivalries or simple obnoxiousness were slowly fading away. This was it ! We were like the Americans and the Indians on Thanksgiving: all different, all the same, all sharing, all willing to open our minds (and cigarette packs!) for something new.
Freshly out of high-school, in which the relation with the opposite sex was an affair of "coolness" and economic status and was filled with stupid American-fueled prejudice, I found myself in a world where girls were friendlier and more relaxed. If you wanted to talk to a girl, you would just go over to her and ask where she was from. If she was from Brasov or something you would ask her what's cool to see there, if she was from Bucharest, you would ask what high-school she went to and if she knew I-don't-know-who friend of yours. It was simple and friendly...
We soon started classes and started reading. Also we formed our own !Yahoo group and questions soon started popping, as well as ridiculous fights and idealistic rants on all sorts of topics. It seemed we were taking our political science students label seriously: whether staunch liberals or revolutionary leftists, we were all passionately abusing our freedom of speech and loving it all the way. Breaks were occasions to display our numerous theories about life, love, pop-culture or simply discussing that day's reading. Those discussions would go on in bars and pubs after (sometimes even during) classes; sometimes we even got passionately involved in political debates in a club with music banging in our years !
Oh yes, clubs ! Back then it was like a mandatory pastime. If you wanted to go to a club that night you would simply shout loudly during a break and instantly you would get adherents...This system of direct democracy (well, basically just shouting during breaks and writing on the group) used to bring us together much more often than it does nowadays. Pubs, clubs, fast-food places, conferences, parks: we would take all these places by storm and put our distinctive imprint on that place for the evening or afternoon. We were a colourful group, loud, idealistic, high ideas mixing with high-school minded die-hardism. For all it mattered, we were friends.
I found some really good friends that fall . Most of them are still my friends today. And hope we'll stay friends for the years to come. I took my one true friend from high-school (pretene, te stii cine esti!) and entered this new world of youth mistique.
We used to learn, credits and marks really mattered. Back then the important guys were Pierre Manent, Sartori, Machiavelli or Max Weber. The founding fathers. The seminal readings. The gurus. Even the teachers were labeled that way. We were all impressed about Mr.Avramescu's clarity, Mr.Barbu's inspirational insight, Mr.Rizescu's accent (Oh yeah! You know what I'm talking about!). Even though pieces of paper were flying during class at each other and practical jokes like stealing clothes or pens were at the order of the day, nevertheless classes meant something. With attendances around 75%, going to school was actually cool. Not only would you see your prank buddies, but you could actually learn something. And have a drink afterwards.
Soon the first love stories started to emerge. Happy stories, sad stories...
And then the junior prom. For those who don't know, the picture from above is taken at that prom. It was sheer fun, almost like in American movies. And I took part in the Prom King contest, and won third place (out of 6 contestants, not out of 2!!!) ! Yeey ! Me, 3rd place in something like this ! What ?!? I was good-looking back then and was even playing some sports, okay!?! Those were the days !

However, soon, all these started fading away. Gossip was eating through our freedom of association and soon there were small groups all around. People were getting jobs and started coming to school less and less. We all soon discovered our political science studies were not going to help us in our future careers. I myself, renouncing the bed of roses and pink clouds with which I surrounded my new experiences in college, started becoming a more critical person. I realized political scientists, women and some other people were not who they wanted me to believe they were. Soon, I was thinking not in terms of finding the best in everyone, but in terms of who is backing that guy to become the boss of i-don't-know-what at 21 years old. Not cool, I know.

Now my papers revolve around football, politics and rational choice, I tend to be a cynical hard-ass, life tells me I have to get a job, EBA is an MEP and Michael Jackson is dead. Romanian social life is full of slutty-like broads and ready-made millionaires with Lamborghinis and lower IQs than the size of their shoes. Bitterness is in high dosage...

But that's not important right now. What's important is for all of you who know what I am talking about and share with me at least some of my autumnatic excitement from 2005 remember those times when we were freshmen, when we were more optimistic, more idealistic, more in touch with one another, more prone to fun, more willing to drink a beer with semi-stranger colleagues, more lively in our pursuit to live then and there, more present in classes, more passionate in what we learned, when no job was there to eat away at our time and creativity, no bosses to say what we could or could not do, no shame in expressing metaphysical or idealist points of view.

The Fall of 2005...

O ipostaza a eternului feminin intr-un film european

Ipostaza pe care am ales-o este cea din filmul "Jenseits der Mauer" (2009). Din pacate nu exista recenzii ale filmului in romana sau engleza (desi in germana sunt destule) pe care sa le fi gasit asa ca o sa trebuiasca sa mergeti pe incredere in ceea ce va voi povesti.
Filmul reprezinta povestea unei fete numita numite Rebecca Pramann, fiica a unei familii est-germane. Tatal ei este un oficial de rang relativ inalt al STASI iar mama ei este casnica. Ceea ce nu stie Rebecca este ca acestia nu sunt parintii reali. Adevaratii ei parinti,Ulrich si Heike Molitor, au incercat, in 1974, sa treaca ilegal granita dinspre RDG spre RFG, cu cei doi copii ai lor ascunsi in masina. Din pacate, ei sunt prinsi, expulzati in RFG si despartiti de fiica lor, Miriam, care avand in jur de 2-3 ani este trimisa la orfelinat si adoptata de familia Pramann, ajungand sa poarte numele de Rebecca. Familia ramasa in RFG sarbatoreste (comemoreaza?) in fiecare an ziua de nastere a fiicei pierdute. Povestea in sine nu este foarte importanta. Ce este important este ca in momentul actiunii filmului ne aflam in noiembrie 1989, perioada de mari tulburari politice si sociale. (recomand downloadarea filmului de pe torenti, e foarte bun, mie mi-a placut)
Miriam (pe care o puteti vedea in poza de mai sus) este o fata in pragul varstei de 18 ani. Este o bruneta pe alocuri angelica, isi tine de obicei parul strans in coada, este pasionata de fotografie si are un prieten cu ganduri de evadare peste zid. Din film reiese ca relatia cu acest baiat, Nils (nu este cel din fotografie), este de mai lunga durata.

Momentul de cumpana pentru aceasta relatie il reprezinta intalnirea cu un baiat blond cu ochi albastri (baiatul din fotografie) venit din RFG impreuna cu familia la o "functie" de stat. Miriam este atrasa de el deoarece este expansiv si poarta blugi (descrisi ca fiind ultima moda in vest). Incepe sa se intalneasca din ce in ce mai des cu acesta si in cele din urma se si culca cu el.

Ce este ciudat insa este urmatoarea situatie: aflata la o intalnire cu blondul, il vede pe Nils brutalizat de politie din cauza participarii lui la un miting anti-partid si intervine intre fortele de ordine si demonstranti. In timp ce blondul prefera sa fuga, Miriam si Nils sunt arestati si bagati la pachet intr-un beci al politiei est-germane, laolalta cu alti tineri protestatari. Miriam sufera de claustrofobie si are o criza, dar Nils stie sa o calmeze, astfel ca scena se incheie cu Miriam adormind pe umarul lui. La interventia tatalui ei si a blondului RFG-ist cei doi sunt eliberati. Din nou ciudat, Miriam sare in bratele blondului si pleaca iarasi impreuna cu el, desi Nils fusese cel ce avusese grija de ea in inchisoare.

Pe mai departe, Miriam se cearta la un moment dat cu blondul din cauza faptului ca el nu o intelege, astfel ca ramane singura o perioada. La petrecerea ei de 18 ani, prientenul ei Nils (de care nu era despartita oficial) apare si ii daruieste o pereche de blugi. Dandu-si seama de nedreptatea provocata acestuia, Miriam se impaca cu el. Se pare ca este prea tarziu, deoarece Nils planuieste ca in acea seara sa treaca ilegal peste Zid. Din fericire pentru amandoi, este anuntata libera trecere a granitei, astfel ca cei doi trec, impreuna cu ceilalti manifestanti, granita spre RFG, unde Miriam isi cunoaste adevaratii parinti (datorita unei actiuni a fratelui ei, pornit in cautarea surorii pierdute).

Haideti sa exploram acum instanta eternului feminin prezenta in povestea noastra cinematografica.

1) Inca din primele scene cu ea ca protagonista, Miriam este infatisata ca o tanara inteligenta, preocupata de marile intrebari ale vietii, ascultatoare fata de parinti, dar totusi avand un anturaj "ilegalist".
Prima problema apare cand este atrasa de tanarul din vest. Respectivul era doar printr-o conjunctura la sindrofie si, daca e sa fiu eu intrebat, mult prea arogant. Ce il face atat de atractiv pentru Miriam? Lasand la o parte simbolistica "mirajului vestului" (blugi, cola, libertate de exprimare), Miriam doreste ceva nou. De ce ? Doar are un prieten frumos, loial, DJ intr-un club de "muzica ilegala din vest" si relativ periculos, fiind implicat in destule chestii ilegale si vrand sa treaca fraudulos granita in RFG. Probabil o fi un sindrom vestic (relatiile nu sunt foarte puternice, e bine sa incerci ceva nou, etc.), dar mai degraba este vorba de confuzie tipic feminina, care genereaza de multe ori comportamente de sorginte curvistina.

2) A doua problema in analiza apare la scena din inchisoare. Daca se intalneste acum cu blondul, de ce sare Miriam in ajutorul lui Nils cand acesta este agresat de politisti? Datorita convingerilor ei tineresti si anturajului anti-sistem ? Nu. Cel mai probabil pentru ca se simte vinovata. Sau, si mai rau, pentru ca, suferind de confuzia ei tipic feminina, are nevoie de un soc pentru a-si aminti ca prietenul ei oficial se afla inca pe firmamentul ei sentimental. Portretul este completat prin sugestia ca femeia lupta pentru dragostea ei, dar daca ma intrebati pe mine, este doar nevoia de un soc si de un pretext pentru revenirea la normalitatea unei situatii.

3) Alta problema este generata de revenirea lui Miriam la blondul vestic. In pofida grijii pe care a avut-o Nils fata de ea in celula, la eliberare Miriam sare de gatul RFG-istului si pleaca impreuna cu el, desi acesta din urma fugise cand Miriam se luase de gat cu fortele de ordine. Chiar mai e nevoie sa comentez aceasta situatie ?

4) O noua intrebare cu raspuns complicat: daca il prefera pe blond, de ce se cearta cu el ? Pentru ca nu o intelege. Trecand din nou peste tema incompatibilitatii est-vest (el RFG-istul, nu o intelege pe ea, RDG-ista), revenim la vesnic actuala chestiune (transformata de unele femei in fapt) a incapacitatii barbatului de a rezona cu feminitatea. A se citi ca femeia este nestatornica (si mandra de asta). Miriam ramane o vreme singura, ceea ce este menit sa sugereze ca femeia este independenta si are accese de auto-pedepsire sentimentala.

5) Finalul povestii noastre o gaseste pe Miriam trecand brat la brat granita impreuna cu Nils. Lasam iarasi deoparte mumbo-jumbo-ul simbolic (solidarizarea estului cu vestul, revenirea la prietenul estic, etc). Se deschide aici posibilitatea explorarii temei comportamentului feminin in cadrul marilor tulburari politice. Ceea ce trebuie retinut de aici este ca femeia rezoneaza odata cu societatea: societatea este tulburata, si femeia este tulburata. Asta ne spune filmul. Ce spun eu este ca o tulburare socio-politica se adauga la tulburarile si asa prezente in doza destul de mare in psihicul adolescentin feminin.

In concluzie, filmul ofera o imagine a unui etern feminin stralucitor, caracterizat prin inteligenta, spirit umanist, independenta, empatie, sensibilitate, vulnerabilitate.
Pentru mine, eternul feminin din film ascunde caracteristici (incomode - pentru partea masculina in a le suporta si pentru partea feminina in a le recunoaste) ale feminitatii (adolescentine-tineresti): nestatornicie, plictiseala rapida, atractie fata de ce sare in ochi, vinovatie si tulburari sentimentale prea dese si cand nu sunt bine venite.
Daca lasam la o parte tema politica, nobila cautare a familiei/adevarului/libertatii si misoginismele mai mult sau mai putin evidente din film, se poate desprinde un adevar incomod: feminitatea, chiar si in cele mai pure si nobile instante, este supusa unor defecte de multe ori insurmontabile, nerecunoscute si pentru care nu se doreste a se gasi un leac. Femeile nu considera aceste lucruri defecte, deci nu trebuie reparate, ele fac de multe ori parte din asenalul personal feminin si din alcatuirea feminina a carismei/farmecului. Suna a etern feminin, nu credeti ?

Prezidentiale 2009

Nu se putea sa nu scriu si eu ceva pe subiectul alegerilor prezidentiale. Nu de alta, dar cand la televizor si peste tot altundeva se discuta despre un lucru, te bate la cap si te face sa simti si tu presiunea de a trata respectivul subiect.
Ma tenteaza sincer sa ma transform intr-un mic Mircea Badea si sa incep sa critic in stanga si in dreapta, sau macar sa ii raspund dobitocului care se produce in emisiunea lui chiar in timp ce scriu aici, dar mai bine nu...
Mai bine scriu o lista cu lucruri bune si lucruri rele care s-au intamplat la alegerile astea si nu mai intru in nici o polemica pentru ca polemica nu aduce rezultate. Sa purhsedem.

LUCRURI BUNE

-la rezultat: a iesit Traian Basescu, nu a iesit Mircea Geoana; Oprescu nu a luat nici macar pragul electoral; a iesit Base presedinte in pofida tuturor manipularilor si tunurilor puse pe el; hai sa fim seriosi, Base, intr-o lupta politica directa, nu cred ca poate pierde

-pe scena politica: nu stiu daca e un lucru bun, dar se pare ca PNL-ul creste in preferintele de vot ale romanilor

-la cabina de vot: la turul doi lumea a fost mult mai relaxata, probabil pentru ca nu mai erau atatea buletine de vot de stampilat si atatea minute de asteptat la coada

-in campania electorala: s-au reabilitat termic multe din blocurile din Bucuresti; au fost funny bataile generale cauzate de intalnirile incognito ale echipelor de campanie electorala ale diferitilor candidati; funny si campania electorala a lui Ninel Potarca

-pe strada: lumea vorbeste despre politica, febra alegerilor este maxima

LUCRURI RELE

-la rezultat: a iesit Traian Basescu, nu a iesit Mircea Geoana - sa ne relaxam pentru ca suntem in continuare in rahat; stiu ca va asteptati sa zic de bine despre Oprescu, dar mi se pare tot un bou; primul presedinte ales de mass-media: cum amandoi candidatii se declarau castigatori la exit-poll, practic TV-ul anunta rezultatul final - numai la noi, frate !

-pe scena politica: PSD-ul ramane sus, prea sus, ingrozitor de sus; nu avem inca guvern si cel mai probabil balacarelile o sa continue si transa de la FMI se amana pana in martie daca nu se ajunge la un compromis; EBA ramane europarlamentar

-la cabina de vot: la primul tur, atitudini de genul "Hai ba, ca ma grabesc, votam si noi azi?!?" (exprimate cu voci bovine de salahori alcoolizati); la turul doi, idiotenii gen "Intarzii la munca si astia nu ma lasa sa votez!" (e duminica, la ce munca te duci, mai ales la 7 dimineata? si chiar daca te tin aia acolo 12 ore, nu poti sa te intorci la 7-8 seara sa votezi cand nu mai e nici dreacu' la urne?); fraude multe - de fapt cred ca de-abia acum le constientizam, erau si pana acum,dar acum se mediatizeaza, mai ales dupa calapodul "Hotii striga hotii"

-in campania electorala: mogulizarea televiziunilor romanesti (si cele pro si cele anti Basescu); bataile generale cauzate de intalnirile incognito ale echipelor de campanie electorala ale diferitilor candidati - cum sa te bati pentru un candidat sau un partid ? cat de prost sa fii ? si mai ales pe gratis...; murdariile de tot felul; ce e mai rau de fapt e ca romanul voteaza (sau este influentat sa voteze) pe criterii cum ar fi vizita lui Mircea Geoana la Moscova sau la SOV (raspunsul meu: fratiilor, nu mai e in '90, sa ne vindem tara la rusi - desi cred ca tare i-ar mai placea lui nea Nelu iar sa nu ne vindem tara si sa aiba un presedinte in buzunar; in plus liberalul din mine poate spune ca Geoana se poate vedea cu cine vrea el - problema aici este ca s-a vazut cu cineva care ar putea influenta alegerile, si asta este argumentul sa ii spunem conservator) sau palma - lovitura de poignier perfect executata - pe care a aplicat-o Basescu in mandibula acelui copilas la mitingul de la Ploiesti din 2004 (raspunsul meu: argumentul ca Basescu a lovit acel copil devine irelevant in batalia pentru voturi avand in vedere ca traim intr-o tara in care romanul de rand nu are nici o jena in a-si educa progenitura cu palme si pumni - numai la noi am auzit expresia, care exprima o fatalitate si o prostie sociala crasa, "Bataia e rupta din rai"; si hai sa fim seriosi, pai sa-mi zica mie un copilas ca el voteaza cu Iliescu, pai si eu il bateam de dracii il gaseau, plus ca fata de impertinent a copilasului chiar cerea vreo 2-3-10-50 de palme peste botic; si frate, exact ca in Caragiale cand se pastra scrisorica: de ce c%&*t apare filmuletul cu palma de abia la 5 ani distanta? stie cineva ? dl. Patriciu, dl Voiculescu? Iuhuuuuu !); manelele pro-candidati ale diferitilor "artisti"

-pe strada: lumea vorbeste despre politica, febra alegerilor este maxima - de fapt, asa cum observ, nu e vorba de o dezvoltare a culturii politice romanesti, ci de o continua adancire a acesteia in genunea fara fund (cred eu) a manelizarii, imbecilizarii si can-canizarii promovate de mass-media; aceiasi ciumpalaci si aceleasi pitipoance vorbesc acum (si) despre Basescu-Geoana-alegeri

In rest, totul e la fel. Viata continua exact ca si pana acum. Ma asteptam sa fiu mai fericit, totusi, pentru ca a iesit Basescu. Dar nu sunt. Si tot la Mircea Badea ma uit...