Is deadflies marketing confusion?

Dear readers,

I am ashamed.

No sooner was my site starting to become popular with broader audiences than I suddenly realized that innocent newcomers are being welcomed with more boring, pseudo- intellectual reading than ever before.

Now, not that I don’t appreciate the avid discussions that some of these monster texts incur, but I do believe that dead flies is and should be targeted towards a neo-illiterate, illustration-craving audience. So without further ado, here a picture from one of my previous posts more in tune with the dead flies philosophy.

I hope that gives us some food for thought.

Anyway, I hope to see all new visitors again, soon. By that time, I promise, I will have
taken more vacation and will again post in the usual, nihilist style that all my regular readers are so fond of.

Szeptember Végén Part II

If you already tuned out during the last entry, please feel free to skip this one, and check out my ISP experience report instead… To the rest: wow, you’d never have expected so much educational value from my effete website, would you?

So anyway, with the background provided, perhaps some things happening in Hungary today can be more readily explained:
The point is, Gyurcsany, our prime minister now known and ridiculed all over Europe for his infamous lie speech (which was by the way not really a confession, as often claimed, because it was held in a small circle and secretly taped): “We lied in the morning, we lied in the evening, we lied at night” or: “we really fucked up” etc… is member of the socialist party, which is a successor of the communist party (which lied a lot), so the revelations actually do not come as a suprise to most people.

What pisses them off is that Gyurcsany promised everything to the people during elections the last time around, fulfilled his promises – thus bankrupting the country – promised everything to the people during reelections again, but can no longer fulfill the promises, cause apparently, there is hardly anything left.

So the point of the story is, with a cynical leadership rather bent on reelection than on helping the country, Hungary is now on the edge of ruin and the people are starting to get pissed off, and Budapest is being bathed in a light wholly different than the majestic colors of the Chain Bridge.

Szeptember Végén Part I

Guys, you know that feeling when you’re hungry, thirsty, and still sleepy from 9 hours of sleep, and then you turn on your computer, sit down, and instead of having breakfast, you blog another dead-end blog entry? No? Well I do, ’cause that’s what I’m doing right at this moment.

Because of all the events going on in Hungary, and due to the high degree of possible misinterpretation that can occur, (considering some of us might not even be able to find Hungary on the world map) [notice the clever use of “us” to make this subtle reproach salonfähig]
I just thought I’d fill you in on my point of view.

First, a brief history of Hungary.

The Hungarians were a happy and strong people who (among other deeds) burned down St. Gallen and controlled much of today’s Slovakia, Romania, Croatia and even Austria until the Turks came. We faught valiantly against the Turks until there were almost no Hungarians left to fight valiantly, which is when they occupied our country. After waiting about a century, the Austrians, along with the rest of Rumsfeld’s Old Europe called the Haubsburg Empire, kicked out the Turks, but decided to stay for the next few hundred years. There was a revolution in 1848 which was put down, but afterwards, we got some rights anyways, cause the Haubsburgs got scared. After the turn of the century, when whole Europe got bored of all the abundance, prosperity and peace, all men who had hitherto only seen and disscussed war in the fin-de-siecle bordellos and salons marched off excitedly to WWI. After the war, we lost two-thirds of our territory, which prompted us to join another war, WWII, which we, like some despairing gambler upping the ante, also lost (of course, the example of Poland shows that it doesn’t really matter if you win or lose, it matters how close you are to Russia). The Russians decided to stay, and there was a revolution in 1956 which was put down, but afterwardss, we got some rights anyways, cause the Russians got scared. Then, in 1989, communism collapsed, and since, Hungary has mainly been ruled by the socialist party, who are the same people who in communist times were most enthusiastic about wearing their cute red uniforms, if you catch my drift.

And the Winner is….

hereby proudly awards

the deadflies power poster award (2 posts! 😀 )
posting a record amount of times and introducing the now-classic phrasing of “rocking Ceci’s handbag” or just “rocking [one’s] handbag”
thus contributing to the sustainability, artistic and conceptual development of this site, as well as generally incresing the chick factor of the site.
awarded by deadflies president:
Bertalan M.
may this award serve as inspiration to all the wussies out there who freeload off the good humour of this site but just haven’t quite gotten around to posting yet…

Hungary reloaded

Phew! Just before blogging about IC overflowed my attention span, which is that of a monkey on prozac, my picture material ended!!! Phew, as in phew, dammit, I finally get to go to bed, it’s almost 2 in the morning, and you probably haven’t read my previous posts yet, so get back there and start reading (or read them again).

But just in case you have read everything attentively, here a post-IC impression of my trip to Hungary. I pose in front of my favorite graffiti, which has ornated (If I just made that word up, I don’t care, it’s too late in the evening to be fussy) the building by the station in Szekesfehervar for over 20 years.

The sign reads “everything has an end, even the end !” I love it, a fitting metaphor for life, love, and this blog entry.

And just to dwelve on the truth behind the previous statement, here a random picture of my home town at night. Peacful, huh? With everybody sleeping… Except me… who was probably bloody blogging again!


Guys, it’s already one thirty in the morning, and Im not paid to write this stuff, neither are you paid to read it; so lets just say that Global Village was a blast:

Hier ve aah wiz ze aaztrian MCP;
I’m not just adding this picture because I want to promote Davy Lin’s blog again, but because I want to raise my reader’s awareness towards traditional maltese dress.

I also want to show you traditional american formal dress, worn here by bedazzling Mal

And the traditional University St. Gallen look and dress, which the Swiss delegation above was asked to assume, with complete success (Notice the dollar signs in all our eyes)

Annnd of course the traditional Kyrgyz look, accompanied by the drunken master style of pre-hangover looks.

IC Part II

Ah yes, bear with me as the roman numerals in the title get more complicated.

In Torun, we wisited the gingerbread house, with the master gingerbread maker who first made gingerbread with us, then completed our gingerbread certificates. I must say, I was very satisfied: as opposed to my framed bachelor’s degree from the University of St. Gallen, which has so far eluded any use whatsoever (apart from nearly killing me once when it fell off the nail and onto my sleeping head) I was actually able to use this high gram per square meter certificate to alleviate a dire situation (whose nature I shall not further disclose, except for the fact that it had to do with a seemingly omnipresent lack of paper of another kind in the country of poland)… [If you didnt get this last sentece, its ok: it not that funny, plus it would finally remove the last fig leaf hiding my shameful, vulgar mind behind a haze of artificial metaphor. ]

Continuing the journey, we arrived at Stutthof concentration camp. On the picture, behind the barbed wire, you will see the lonely waking figure of Davy Lin. I could only suspect that at the time I took this picture, Lynnie was wrestling with the inhumanity of humankind. [Should you be looking for a meaningful discussion of this topic, I urge you to check out her blog entry on the subject, which I assure you is dipped in refreshingly less postmodern irony/cynisism than my blog entries could ever hope to be.] I for one was very busy searching for hidden beauty, contemplating how chic she looked with that cute little blue rucksack.

Anyway, time passed and went and flew by, and soon, it was time for opening ceremony.

needless to say, AIESEC is man enough to admit that bigger is actually better, which is why opening ceremony was just one incredibly long, gargantuan ceremony to celebrate just how incredibly gargantuan you can make opening ceremonies be. The show included everything, including dancing bunnies and dancing little girls, girls, women, little boys, boys and men, plus company executives, which really is just another way of saying it was very big. Then, there was some postmodern polish country music, which I guess added the dot on the “gargantuan . “

And then, the acutal conference started…

Oh, yes, but what would it all have been without Global Village. On the picture, a part of the Chinese delegation. Because she’s so cute, we’ll give the MC member on the right the benefit of the doubt about the blonde ethnic Chinese part. For more on this global village globalization phenomenon, check out my next post.

IC where I was this summer…

“Let me take you back, ’cause I’m going too…” would actually be a good start to this post, as I often drift back to my memories of this banana summer while gradually falling back to the day-to-day* of enjoying the last remnants of my soon-to-end student life…

…yet this time, I’m not “going” to the morally questionable, spicy “Strawberry Fields“, but to the very beginning of our IC trip, which started, if I still remember right, at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. The town in question was the city of Breslau; the bus station in question was full of young, motivated skinheads; and the bus in question had no air conditioning.

But let us not dwelve on this most unpleasant part of the trip (the Eurolines ride to Warsaw) which confronted me with the Highway situation in Poland (or lack thereof); for tho I very much enjoy the MC blog, which I shall now proceed to shamelessly plug, I do believe that our dear MC has forgotten that the average reader of the blogger age is ready to read 0.01% of the text in a typical MC post and is right away frustrated by the lack of respect it shows to the large segment of neo-illiterate** insomniacs on the web. This new breed of netizens will only accept more than four lines of text without a picture either from Houellebecq, Playboy magazine, or this blog, all of which happen to be pseudo-pornographic. But because even my blog cant survive text cemetaries without bringing up an occasional picture, I shall present the first slide…

Ah, Torun, Torun. Here you see the whole gang of study-tourees who braved the absolute burn-out of study-trip, pre-conference, and conference. Notice the way the photographer cut poor Copernicus at the legs, a metaphor for the cultural decadence of the modern student tourist group hellbent on visiting all Starbucks outlets in the town with the funny name they cannot pronounce.

ah, but let us not dwelve on the sense of dismay I feel every time my parents shame me by asking me exactly which cities I visited on the poland trip. Instead, let us celebrate cultural diversity. As we threatened to burn alive inside the bus bringing us to Marienburg, the driver released us into the open, allowing us one of those greatly appreciated, completely artificially induced moments of glee. As we were outside, he screamed at us that we should get back in or we could walk the rest of the way. “But sir, your bus is burning”… so we started walking… (on the picture: Robin poses in front of the burning vehicle)

I’m not sure you would appreciate all the pictures we took of the nearby gas station while the coordinators organised another bus; instead, a little interlude of a picture, taken as we actually got to Marienburg, 5 minutes before we started heading back:

This is me with Dina. She was a very sweet girl, I think I met her at coffee the day before… notice my hangover…

so maybe the view towards the other side is more rewarding… Finally, on the second day, we arrived in the city of Gdansk (Danzig), and at that point, blogger *&”&ç* refused to let me post more pictures, forcing me to ask you to continue reading at the next post….

*this term was proudly coined by me and will now be used for the next twenty years to the general dismay of english teachers reading this blog worldwide.

** people who teach themselves not to have to read

Nihilistic Rambling Post after Return from Megalomaniac IC pre-mid-and post conference + Hungary trip

My dearests,

Apart from being glad that my Blog is finally starting to attract beautiful girls, I have just soooo crash landed today on the hard reality of autumn life in Zürich. The smell of stale wine from my fridge has re-activated my memories of the cheap, smelly bambus drinks we indulged ourselves in early this summer… oohh… the putrid aroma is taking me back…

*** like the leaves of summer, gone are the days of hedonistic indulgence:

gone. ***

But what gives. lemme reminisc a bit more… Im just gonna grab this Tetra-packed Merlot here, give Maya (spelling?) a ring, and post my IC pix later… sorry everyone…