Bailey Alexander

Guess who came to dinner; The Russians

Last night a couple of women from St. Petersburg showed up at Chez Bay. It was interesting to listen to their perceptions about Putin, their politics and their system. So different from my own experience growing up, yet one of my guests, Lola Voronina has become a good friend and we've ended up in similar worlds.  Odd to think the further east we move the  freer we seem to feel. 

Russians, I find, are cool, tough and refined. A great combo and they tend to complain less than the west. They go about their business, in spite of it all, underneath the radar. 

When living in Paris I didn't know any on a personal level, none came to play at Chez Bay yet apparently they were everywhere.

Updating films like Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory and The Picture of Dorian Gray

Remakes work or they won't and movies like Willy Wonka might best be left alone. Johnny Depp is cute and cool but Gene Wilder took the role on one condition:

"When I make my first entrance, I'd like to come out of the door carrying a cane and then walk toward the crowd with a limp. After the crowd sees Willy Wonka is a cripple, they all whisper to themselves and then become deathly quiet. As I walk toward them, my cane sinks into one of the cobblestones I'm walking on and stands straight up, by itself... but I keep on walking, until I realize that I no longer have my cane. I start to fall forward, and just before I hit the ground, I do a beautiful forward somersault and bounce back up, to great applauseWhen asked why, Wilder replied, "because from that time on, no one will know if I'm lying or telling the truth." 

Prague's goddesses

Sarkozy is gone; relief, a reprieve.

Who knows what such a victory portends; higher taxes for some, less authoritarian measures for many. The taste for war will wane, the hype and amped up energy perpetrated by the bling president will deflate and the false flags will slow down.

They'll address, or try to to fix some internal issues. Germany will work quietly with them, behind the scenes, grateful for a more pragmatic partner. The EU experiment will evolve and we will need to wait patiently to see what this means.  

I can easily recall the heady weeks before Sarkozy came into power and we still lived in Paris; I had guests from both sides @ Chez Bay, all wanted Sarkozy and welcomed his energy, his way.

Now, 5 years later, exhausted, the need to shift gears. Unlike the Americans the French aren't going to project all their dreams onto a new leader, a consensus driven type, they're simply tired of what Sarkozy became all about. It was too too much, even for the French, this little man that rocked aggressively back and forth on his lift heels, insisting how he would ensure France remain at the center of the world stage. 

They've had enough, they need a reprieve, they need to recoup, softly, with the mild mannered man Francois Hollande.

Where's the left side of this paradigm?

It's been a long time since I caught Sandra Bernhard on stage in New York but her words linger and I can still hear her saying, "Where's Cher! I look here, there, everywhere but no Cher..." We love Cher, a face so uniquely beautiful before she dared to enter and alter it so severely. Still lovable but we grew to miss that lovely face. 

 

 

 

Czech students and their expectations.

A month ago I'd bought a large easel along with several sheets of cardboard. Standing outside the store I realized it'd be impossible to carry the bulky purchase home. I tried putting it on my head, under my arm, all impossible for the 25 minute walk. 

I stared at it for several minutes as if willing the legs of the easel to walk itself home until a kind student named Kamila convinced me she and I could carry it together. I've received many such gestures since...perhaps its those Bohemian ideals. 

Occupy thyself, enjoy the epiphany

There's that second when ma petite mignon, aging and refusing to act like it, agile as ever reminds me to be.     

There's that stretch of time when io e mio marito communicate and conspire in the most loving way, with clarity, relying on risk and freedom to feel alive. 

Like now when my orchid spikes, my tulips yet to cycle... 

I look around at beloved ancestors, they may have passed yet here in spirit; silent muses in surround sound. 

Yesterday, a rendezvous with a lovely Russian, a politically savvy women named Lola working on behalf of Pirate Party International, I do hope to contribute in typical chez bay fashion.

Next week I'll head to Paris to finally listen and see a proopcast, engage a coupla senses, laugh in la lumiere to the jazzy improvisational insanity a la Greg Proops...

Cannot wait and yet I can. A moment to occupy myself, enjoy the epiphany....

Czech chicks enjoying their Bohemian Easter Season

Communism could suppress, however now, the Czech people express as they wish.

Easter arrives on the calendar even as religion isn't emphasized here in Prague; Christianity is fine, of course but the date's another way to embrace the sunny season, provide some color around the city, relax and welcome back the sun....

life's cycles; women, flowers...

Carpe diem, indeed.

Local people.

Soft and surreal exhibit@ Czech Photo Gallery on Siberia. Per usual its the people that give the eye a reprieve; this man in the boat appears to have a soul living outside as well as in...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colette; top of my world.

All dogs provide joy, what would our lives be without? About 13 years ago I brought Colette home along with the list of do's and don't's  from the breeder.

By the time night arrived I'd disobeyed most, then put the carrier next to the bed as we engaged in a gentle staredown. Suddenly I was quite alarmed I'd even put her in the cage, letting her out immediately, onto my bed and into my heart. 

Since then she's slept on her pillow above my head until morning arrives, waking me gently, her only mode, reminding me it's time to get up and take them out.

Mio marito may skid in via Scotland, Gibraltar, Malta and London but he heads off to Eurasia too quickly, allowing Colette's face to be the first that greets me each and every morning.  

Now that we've hung our map behind our king sized tempur pedic bed, large enough for we three or four, Colette appears to be on top of the world. Per always.  

Throughout the day her eyes forever focused on keeping my actions in her sight; I've rarely felt alone and should I, she's there within a second to remind me life's just fine.  

She's my angel and sphinx, guarding my version of Library of Alexandria.

What would our lives be without...

Customized scents from Paris to Prague; perfume, liqueurs and whiskey too.

In Paris you'll find fragrance boutiques to create custom scents for the skin and they're far less expensive than you'd imagine.

I'd spend 20 to 30 euro every coupla months on a petite present to self and when the need arose for a special Shiseido purchase I'd take a sojourn to Le Salon du Palais. You needn't even venture inside; window shopping along the Jardin du Palais Royal provides enough sensory overload to last for days. 

If you're like me and don't shop for recreation, at the very least its a novelty and great way to get lost amidst the pretty architecture and alleys in la lumiere.

However living in Prague inspires elixirs and scents you imbibe before they might emanate in other ways; olive oils, liqueurs, brandies and whiskies of all kinds. 

Why not, the bottles are so beautiful and the taste test lasts as long as you can with a super sweet salesclerk to write your labels in English, French or Czech; as you wish.  Lovely, wonderful stuff. 

RMONEY. As Dawn Powell said; Satire is people as they are...

Romney photo via Andycheninprogress. I quote Dawn Powell's quote as oft as possible, in fact she hangs on my living room wall.

Even Gore Vidal marveled ather level of humour, so evolved, so tender but brutally honest. His remarkable essay forced her novel back into print through sheer literary will; "for decades Dawn Powell was always just on the verge of ceasing to be a cult and becoming a major religion."

OWS, self sabotage and StopImperialism.com.

Occupy Wall Street's latest idea is a General Strike on May 1st, makes sense. Let's hope its more effective than last year's inspirational albeit short lived movement. 

Yet I'm more impressed by results and guys like Eric Draitser. His website Stop Imperialism rings right and he did try and incorporate a very critical organ to OWS; the POLITICAL AND ECONOMIC DEMANDS group.

Unfortunately for Eric the General Assembly was co-opted by the facilitators from AdBusters, Obama's Campaign (no wonder he's always smiling) and various anarchists and communist groups.

Communism as collective is fine but I'm too fastidious and their consensus model feels cumbersome and I fear self-sabotage is inevitable. 

Stephen Miller's, "Conversation, A History of a Declining Art": Politeness is kinda key.

Re-visiting a clever book with a lovely cover called "Conversation." Almost feels dated even as the subject remains timeless.

Miller elaborates on his subject by focusing on the finest like Cicero, Montaigne, Mary Wortley Montagu and Virginia Woolf, exploring their world of British Coffeehouses and clubs and how this era came to an end. 

He begins by making a point how conversation is in bad shape in contemporary America, how anger undermines conversation. Plutarch quotes Sappho: "When anger takes over your heart, guard your babbling tongue."

"This is the age of the screed, the rant, the tirade, the jeremiad, the daitribe, the venom-fueled, white-hot harangue!"

Gore Vidal and Breitbart might have actually met, if only for a sec...

Update:

Apparently Matt Taibbi's piece really angered Breitbart's fans. So many muckrackers in our midst, tearing one another apart, deliciously interesting.

You have Matt Drudge and Breitbart, apart from their politics, boys that did and do continue with deeply subservice tactics, too bad the left doesn't get it.

I'll watch is from the sidelines with Gore Vidal the master, as it burns...

Dawn Powell said, "Satire is people as they are..."

Tiabbi update: Well done, Breitbart fans, well done! In less than 24 hours you’ve hacked into my Wiki page, published my telephone number on Twitter, called the Rolling Stone offices pretending to be outraged “advertisers” (anonymous ones, who hung up before we could figure out which “ads” to pull), and then spent all night calling and texting my phone with various threats and insults, many of them directed at my family. “Better grow eyes in the back of your head,” was one; “I’m going to take a shit on your mother’s grave,” was another; a third called my wife a “piece of shit like you,” and many others called me a “pile of human excrement.

Students were out in the thousands to protest in Prague today, like the others; economically driven..

I don't have satellite and don't speak the language but I did happen to see this on the local news while hanging out with some other Czechs. I asked for their thoughts.

Guess Alex Jones can happily move another conspiracy theory into the conspiracy fact file.

Everyone's been laughing at AJ's crusade against poisoning and medicating the public through Fluoride forever. Many came before him but through sheer force he's bringing the issues into the news. Mainstream, no, that's impossible, their complicit.

Robert Redford's "The Candidate" is Obama.

Watched it last night, along with Caligula. Allora, Gore Vidal's screenplay and Italian drama deserve their own post, certo. 

The Candidate's a treat to re-visit on so many levels, perhaps more entertaining today then 4 decades ago, when America was trying somewhat desperately to remain curious.

Long before the TSA, when Lord Berners met Sergei Diaghilev; details were different.

Once upon a time we weren't buried in brands, enticed to 'like' chic luggage and major airlines on FB, as if suddenly glamorous by association. Travel is anything but attractive...    

Mio marito recently skidded in from Eurasia, he'll travel to another 5 countries in the next 10 days. I project nothing but stress, what with sim chips, plugs, phones, currencies, passports let alone packing for multiple places and meetings. Interesting, perhaps. Stressful, very. 

I suppose the change of scenery could provide enough sensory overload to override the reality. But travel can be rough. 

Ironically enough traveling to Paris is far more glamorous than living and banking in la lumiere. Arguing in another language with inebriated neighbors once famous for soft porn movies like Emmanuel was less than, but yes, traveling by train to Paris is glamorous, d'accord.  

Salvador Dali

Whenever there's a chance to see his art, I'm there. Salvador Dali makes me feel so happy, always.  

Decades ago, before he died in '89, people still spoke about his art as much as whimsical antics. He was a serious surrealist, a technical virtuoso then a question mark was quietly put alongside his name.

Doubt he cared, a superb draftsmen, technician, master artist.  

Rick Falkvinge's the rare player that's managed to legislate his passion and concerns for privacy and copyright law into Parliament, one country at a time.

On Rick Falkvinge's site you can read all about information policy and civil liberties in Europe and elsewhere in the world, if only we could channel Rick's ideas through the megaphone Alex holds across the pond, far more people would understand and appreciate those issues that directly impact their online lives. 

And like Alex, on this side of the pond, Rick is a force gathering momentum along with millions of fellow enthusiasts in search of all the latest data re SOPA, ACTA and PIPA. 

Speaking of...at first, the German government was a bit amused by Pirate Bay, now they're taking them seriously.

Greg Palast on Alex Jones; couldn't have said it better myself.

Other than Anonymous, there's too few making an impact. Too few modern day muckrakers, with their heart in the right place...alas, we have Greg Palast. 

His thoughts on Alex Jones align with my own. Alex is a force not to be denied, the most popular radio host on the internet in North America, nooooo dispute on that data...and the fact he showcased the women that run democrats against the UN agenda 21, two lesbians that are pro-choice proves he is on the side of the angels. He actually stopped talking for an hour. 

Go Greg, your book, Vulture's Picnic is doing well, as it should. Go Alex, go RON PAUL!!

Here's the link, apparently it does not want to play cut and paste. Greg Palast in Praise of Alex Jones

Praha; a little Roma, a little Parigi...

I keep saying it if only because it's true; Prague's a luxurious combination of Rome and Paris. Pretty, sad and architecturally magical like la lumiere; world weary, surreal and psychically complex like Rome.  

In Daniela Hodrava's "Prague, I see a city..." she writes, "It is said that Prague, the city in the basin cut in in two by the Vltava, is, like Rome, spread over seven hill."

When walking, taking the metro,  
the bus, the tram with a cool Czech chick, getting acclimated, addressing details or finding the stores and markets, where to buy lights, batteries, butter and bread and exploring by myself, with the kids, feels like Rome.

And Paris. The place we bank, below, with interior lights resembling those used for external use in other cities...we may only have enough currency to cover rent and local bills but the environs resemble Versailles. 

The view with the moon, from our terrace, give bliss.

The police are cool but better have your metro ticket stamped, armed with some kind of ID on your personage or 'whoop, whoop its da sound o da police', and the funny bit is, being from where I came from, it feels so eastern and otherly, the imagination conjures up all kinds of mischief, if only in the mind...

Alas, if you've taken care of business, you're fine. 

The metro, those long trips down the escalator, so long you could finish a novella, feels like London but far less claustrophobic, fewer people, it's easy to get about in this town.

The bohemian crystal lurks everywhere, banks, design stores

cafe's, much ado about art deco.

Like Rome there's plenty of graffiti, and just like Rome, doesn't bother me a twit
I'd rather see the kids vent their frustration through their 'art' than violence, and they do, although I saw a coupla kids giving an old guy an awfully hard time with soft snowballs the other day, but he fielded them fine, another way to while away the day.

This place, Bohemia, sort of surreal, like Lord Berners, the eccentric composer who had a house near Oxford where the pigeons were dyed all the colours of the rainbow.   

Bohemia...

Dresden; Setting fire to a Jewel Box

I relish "live" history lessons, the ones learned while driving through Europe, the kind that unfold along with the landscape, either in a car or on a train. They tend to enter the mind and imagination slowly, gradually securing their seat in the psyche permanently.

These pieces of history are often sad, sometimes inspirational, others so devastating they blow the mind and fall heavily into the heart, forever. 

Yesterday we drove from Holland to Prague, across Germany, entering East Germany through 'the tunnel of unity', passing Leipzig, then arriving at Dresden; a cultural mecca for music, art and architecture, a city once called the "Jewel Box"...

...until Feb 13, 1945, that fateful and particularly cruel evening, when the allied forces bombed Dresden, when the British and American forces set fire to this Jewel Box, killing 57 thousand people in one night.

To suggest it was highly controversial is without debate.