Listening to: John Cale (the Island "trilogy" + Sabotage/Live).
When we were kids in the pre-Russian-Federation USA, we would been shown
films every now and then (probably
not unlike today). Sometimes in the
classroom, sometimes in
assemblies in the cafeteria or auditorium. I remember seeing
Nanook of the North and
Future Shock (women with
green and
orange hair!!) back in junior high. I also vaguely remember a
documentary on everyday life in
Soviet Moscow. Oh, i'm not talking about they're-coming-for-your-children,
McCarthyist blatant anti-communist
propaganda in black and white. I'm not
that old, to begin with. No, i'd guess it was a relatively
recent snapshot for the time (mid-1970s). It was less a propaganda piece than a
cultural exchange on film. I remember stereotypical big peasant women and wizened yet smaller peasant men in colorless, heavy clothing, all threadbare suits, babushkas and shawls.
One scene i
remember was people in some city square around a public water fountain (not unlike the disappearing
nasoni here in Rome), but the fountain's structure allowed a
drinking cup to be perched on the stand...and
everyone shared that same glass.
Another scene i remember was shot in the
GUM department store, with the
famous long line of clients
hoping to get one of whatever necessity it was they were queing up for. I remember the narrator implying that they were
lucky to get what they came for, due to rationing and shortages and whatnot.
All this set-up and
for what...? Well,
welcome back to the Soviet Union 2011!
Na zdorovje!This is
yesterday, circa
9:15 am at the
Ins supermarket off of Piazza Alessandria here in Rome. Ins is a discount supermarket, carrying a limited supply of (mostly) only their own store brand of products.
They open at 9 am. There is only one cashier open. There are
around 13 people in front of me.
The cashier is
oblivious that the line goes almost
all the way to the
back of the store, me being
equidistant to the front or the back. I am
not the last person in line. Nevertheless, she is asking for exact change. Suspicion leads me to believe that the
till has
enough to make change but she finds a certain
disdain in making change.
A paper grocery bag costs
15¢.
The employees stock shelves at
all hours. The aisles are roughly
70cm wide.
The prices are
heavily discounted while maintaining a certain
quality but that is
the sole reason to shop there. It is an exercise in
subliminal masochism, a study of
anti-feng shui, 180° of ergonomics, a
mosquito hovering in front of your
nose that
refuses to be shooed away. It is as if
Dr. Yen Lo and his team had
designed a chain of discount supermarkets.
Every time i go there, to quote
Bukowski,
i feel raped nine times over.Yet i
still go. I
must be a
masochist. A
cheap masochist, to boot.
!
was the band the breakfast club?