It is the unknown legend about how calling the cats. Once upon a time there was a cat called as "pisi pisi or tısı tısı, or kıs kısıs " Nobody knows about his real name but everybody agree that there is an "ss" in his name. He was a legendary cat who hunted every mice around for men. He was the fearless leader of the cats. Always men called his name and rewarded him by giving delicious fishes and meats after his glorious hunts. He shared his food with other cats. And then finally the other cats realized that "pisi pisi or tısıtısı or kıs kısı" was the keyword to reach the food. They taught this words to their children and grand children. and among centuries everytime when men say " pisi pisi or tısı tısı or kıs kısıs" the cats approach to the men or give a glance or at least bother to listen without knowing their glorious ancestor ...

                                      Umea, 2014, November 

THE IMAGE OF A DETECTIVE : a short story

In a cloudy spring day, a guy just entered in the police department of the city. He was wearing an unparticular tartan shirt, brown slacks and cheap gumshoe. He seemed definitely not an important person by his apperance. Maybe that's why none of the guards even gave him a glance. However he didn't pass through that metal detector though. It was wierd and nobody warned him as well.

He was carrying a file. But from his appearance there was no way to tell the guy is somebody. Maybe he was an asistant of the district attorney. However it was more likely that the guy should be an officeboy of that district attorney which he ordered him to bring the file to his office. He climbed the stairs not fast but not slow as well. They say everybody has peculiar walking style. But this guy definetely didn't have any.

The guy walked through the corridors with his uncharacteristic steps. He just skipped the door of attorney's office. Probably he was just confused. It is certainly expected from that guy to do some stupid things. But no. He didn't come back. He just entered the departmant of organized crimes. Not a single person looked at him. He was walking in his way to the office of police commisioner. After he entered, he put the file to the commisioner's desk.

The commisioner looked at the file and looked at him. He said " Damn ! how can you solve this crime with your fucking stupid face ! " Did the commisioner do a sarcastic joke ? I don't think so. When you looked at this guy's face, you would definitely think that the guy has no brain working. Others loughed as hell. He didn't replied. Probably he couldn't think about a clever answer. How did he solve this complicated case ? The most interestingly he solved many cases as complicated as this case.

Nobody took him seriously in his life. Even after he solved a famous corruption case as well. Some journalist visited the police department to interview with the guy was charged in that investigation. They interviewed everybody in the department except him. Probably they thought that the guy was an tea-maker or something. When they finally found out he is the guy was in charge, they started to ask the questions. The journalist wasn't contented. He just spoke couple of words. That was it. But it wasn't due to not revealing some secret information that government is going to need. He simply couldn't think anything to tell them. The commissioner gave the speech to the journalists.

In the following day his name was mentioned only in one line. It was only because the commissioner said his name in his speech once. Did the guy complain about it ? did he feel dissapointed or what ? No. If you ask me, he didn't have the capacity to think about it. The guy got out the commissioner's office and looked at the people who were laughing him. He did got no face expression except that senseless stupid look. Then he went to the basement where all criminal files are present. He walked down with his uncharacteristic steps again.

He took the most dangerous case from the shelfs. This case was about the biggest criminal orgasination which got relations with big dicks in the town. Nobody dared to process this case. What was the guy thinking ? Why ? did he want to get some respect finally ? Was he capable to think that ? He got out from the police department.Again everybody looked at him with their contemptous glances. Even in the streets. Why was everbody like this?

Because he was showing them how miserable a regular human being is. He never did something to hide it in order to look charming, clever, charismatic. He had never wore an identity costum in his life. Did he do it to protest the society ? No. He had never thought about that kind of staff in his life. The one that who is telling this story to you, is ME behind of my shadow mask. Maybe you started to respect me by looking to my shadow mask. Yes ! You are damn right to respect or even like me.

But but what is he doing now !? He just opened his bag and  took out an hat and long topcoat that he had never wore before. He walked into streets. He thought that people started to respect him. The protector of the town. Maybe until seeing his stupid face. Incredibly he was speaking with damn right people for this dangerous case. How was he doing that ? to come up with clever plan to solve this case and all cases !

He started to stalke a spooky guy. What was he feeling ? We never know.. He followed him until a dark alley. Yes. he entered a ruined apartment. That was the place that the guy would catch him with red-handed ! He walked silently after him.

Then something solid crashed his head. He hit to the wet ground. Maybe first time in his whole life he felt some emotions. He was happy and even proud. They had beaten him dastardly, dishonestly. But it would be the first torch to encourage the society to fight with this damn criminal organization. Finally a guy came up and fought with them bravely and got killed ingloriously. His heroic act would be remembered through years.

He looked his left side while bleeding in streams from his head. There was a plant with soil on its roots and a tattered flowerpot, dropped from a balcony. He kept staring at the flowerpot for a while. Then he closed his eyes and gave away his last breath.

Not long after an homeless man came and looked at him. He touched the fiber of the topcoat. He removed it from the guy's dead body and wore it. He took the hat from the wet ground as well and walked through the main street.

People looked at him respectfully.

to the watchful protector of the town...

                                                                     Umea, 2014 November

The man in a dark alley: short story

I am an unsocial man and I can't say that I got so much fun in my life. Besides I am so unsignificant guy, also my appearance is not very distinctive. You know, you just give a glance to a person in the street because he was passing front of you and you don't think about him again. It is me ! But don't think that I am an ugly guy. No not at all. Even some girls used to tell me that I am good looking. Yet, I usually get blushed right in that moment and create an excuse to escape there and go to my home.

However, even a guy like me, got a story to tell. You may not believe any word. It is your kind choice. But I am going to tell it anyway.

In an ordinary autumn night, I was walking in a dark alley. The wind was blowing and drifting the dry leaves around. There was nothing except a weak street light. The weather was freezing with that cold wind. Not long after, I noticed a guy walking in front of me. As I noticed from far, the guy wore an hat and a long topcoat like in detective films. He was walking slow and I was approaching him in every second.

I was lying when I say, there is not so much fun in my life. I sometimes enjoy to make people nervous just by walking next to them or behind of them with a same speed. I don't look at them but I always know that they get easily uncomfortable with my acts. For me it is so funny !!!

Then after a while, I arrived just two meters away from the guy. I arranged my walking speed same with him. After walking 10-15 meters like this the guy with the hat noticed me. He became preoccupied for every second of walking. I did reach my point. Then he slowed down to let me pass. However, I slowed down as well. The tension for him was increasing like the sound of accelerating wind. The autumn leaves was drifting around even more caoticly in that dark alley. And I was still 2 meters behind of him. After a while he started to walk faster but I kept the distance. He couldn't dare to look behind and also run away.

Then he just crouch and pretend like tying his shoelaces to understand that I was seriously stalking him. But I just threw my lighter to the ground and got down to take it. I was just next to him. Then he looked at me with an evil expression in his face and said " hello there dear friend !!. I suddenly got shocked and couln't move a finger. The guy just salute me, was me !!!. I was looking to my own face !

He tied his shoelaces slowly and spoke again " you would have never guess that right ? asshole ! " and walked away and left me there shivering like the last standing autumn leaves. Then he perished in the end of the dark alley.

for the respect to Dvoynik - Dostoyevsky and O Homem Dublicado - Jose Saramago

Umea 2014, Septembre


                                                 

Una pura formalità - Possibilities offered by the fantastic and the surreal

" Even now, I sometimes doubt I ever lived those days, ever made fast that friendship, ever knew this man whose body has just fallen before my eyes. This body gasped for breath, and I wrote this pages. Those vacant eyes cried out for expression, those lips pleaded for a final whimper, this dream was missing a kind of dreamer ... "

" So as not to die of anguish or of shame, men are eternaly condemned to forget the unpleasent moments of their lifes. And the more unpleasent they are, the faster they are forgotten. "

                                                       Onoff - Una Pura Formalità (1994)
                                                               Giuseppe Tornatore

Delilik Tarihine Dair

"Kafka’nın değişim eserinde hayvanlaşan hayat anlayışımızı kaç kişi anlayabildi ki, intihar etmek için çabalarını kaçımız düşündü ki, yoksa hasta bir kişiliği mi okuyoruz?

Kaç kişi sanat adı altında mozart’ın sarayda kızların peşinde koşarken krala yakalanmasını biliyor ki? Kız çığlıklar içinde kaçarken mozart onun peşinde koşuyordu. Üstü başı dağınık, kendinden geçmiş bir halde kralı karşısında görünce susmak yerine krala şunu demişti: “ben bayağı biriyim ama yazdıklarım bayağı değildir.”

Zweig’in, tanrı’nın bileklerinden tuttum derken, “kaderime ben hakimim” demek istediğini. Hugo’nun kadın düşkünü olduğunu, Dostoyevski’nin kumar tutkunluğunu, Balzac’ın dolandırıcılığını, Poe’nin ayyaş olana kadar içtiğini, “sen sarhoş mu yazıyorsun?” dedikleri zaman, kaç kişi yüzünde beliren sanat anlayışı ile yaşamının arasındaki uçuruma kendini koydu?

Tarih deliliklerle dolu, kaç kişi bu deliliklerin arasında yolculuk yapmak ister?

“Gecenin mahremiyetini yırttım” derken Rimbaud’u kaçımız anladı, Verlain korkularının kendini uyutmadığını, Nietzsche otel odasında kusmukları içinde ölürken yanında hiç kimsenin olmamasını, Miller’in karısını sattığını bile bilmiyoruz belki de…

Gorki gibi yazabilmek için on yılımı harcarım diyebilecek kaç deli var aramızda, Descartes’in alın kuralları eserini yazdıktan sonra tebessüm içinde övünerek kahvesini yudumladığını, kendi romanında kurguladığı kişiliğe herkesten önce kendisinin inandığı Gogol gibi, kaç kişi var kurgusuna güvenen?

Tarih deliliklerle dolu…

Cipolla’nın iktisat tarihine meydan okuduğunu bile unutmuşuzdur.

Ibni sina’nın “tıbbı üç kelime içine alıyorum” dediğinde kibirli halini , Batuta her gördüğü yüze inancını sorduğunu, Farabi mutluluk teorisini kalem alırken mutsuz olduğunu kaçımız düşündü ki?

Düşüncelerin sakıncalı olabileceğini bile kralların savaşları kaybettiklerinde anladıklarını, kardeş kavgalarının gölgesinde suskunlukları, saray odalarında musiki yerine Fransız müziğinin seslendirildiğini, kaç kişi gerçeklerin bizim düşündüğümüz gibi olmadığını biliyor ki?

Tarih deliliklerle dolu….

Sanat anlayışını hayatları ile kıyasladığınızda kaç sanatkar, kaç yazar, kaç şair, aklımızda hayal etmiş olduğumuz şekilde yaşadı ki?

Sanat delilik ister demiyorum, ama sanatkar deli olabilir…

Insanları yazdıkları ile anlamalıyız, yaşantıları ile anlamaya çalışırsak sanatlarının güzelliğine haksızlık ederiz…"

Semra Yıldırım

Power Rangers vs Reservoir Dogs (based on true story)

We were 5 children who wanted to play Power Rangers in the street. I already made wooden swords, spear, bow and axe. I picked to be blue ranger. He was the scientific one and wore glasses as well. It was my right by law to be him. I made my brother red ranger and other guy black ranger. We were 5 boys and the things got tricky in the case of picking yellow and pink rangers. I somehow convinced 4th guy to be yellow ranger. I don't know, maybe he didn't watch the show or yellow was not so feminine colour. Then the last guy had to be pink ranger. He didn't accept. Whole game started to became a Reservoir Dog scene. I tried to convince him showing how cool the bow is. How cool her fighting style.  He said " then why don't you become pink ranger ? " I said " but I got glasses " Yellow ranger said that he doen't want to be yellow ranger anymore as well. I told them "allright you can be rotative yellow and pink ranger ". Pink ranger said " fuck you I don't want to play this fucking game " and he left. I couln't understand for a while. I was 7 years old. Everybody left. I still couln't understand. I tought for a moment. Then it hit to my mind ! How society give significance to the colours ! what sexuality is ! All images turned into my brain. I resisted. I tried to play as blue ranger by myself. I couln't concentrate. I went back home and watched the new episode of Power Rangers. I realized then how cute was Pink ranger is. yellow was not beautiful much. It seemed that I lost my childhood innocence after that moment.
Yeah pink ranger was beautiful...

                                                                                           Umea, 2014

Say Good Night To The Bad Guy

Tony Montana: What you lookin' at? You all a bunch of fuckin' assholes. You know why? You don't have the guts to be what you wanna be? You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your fuckin' fingers and say, "That's the bad guy." So... what that make you? Good? You're not good. You just know how to hide, how to lie. Me, I don't have that problem. Me, I always tell the truth. Even when I lie. So say good night to the bad guy! Come on. The last time you gonna see a bad guy like this again, let me tell you. Come on. Make way for the bad guy. There's a bad guy comin' through! Better get outta his way!

                                                      

                                           Scarface (1983) / Brian de Palma