diff --git a/content/20260520_stadt.md b/content/20260520_stadt.md index 8854f28..d96e231 100644 --- a/content/20260520_stadt.md +++ b/content/20260520_stadt.md @@ -13,7 +13,7 @@ A weekly activity during my teenage years in ████ I usually started at *Cocktail*, a small but well-stocked comic book store where I would spend at least an hour browsing graphic novels, peeking into the rather explicitly pornographic pages of *Heavy Metal*, getting lost in the works of *Moebius*, or checking the latest arrivals in the manga section, especially anything involving mechas or cyberpunk themes. I became a devoted fan of the *Appleseed* series and bought each German translation as it was released. -One snack option was then to head to *McDonald’s*, find a corner, stuff myself with a *McRib* or *Big Mac*, and lose myself in *Kino News*, the free periodical from the counter featuring reviews of upcoming films. That generally provided enough energy to handle the next obvious destination: *Galeria Horten*, an enormous seven-floor department store in a horrendous post-war modernist style, instantly recognizable for its glass facade and dizzying tile patterns wrapped around its cubiform mass. +One snack option was then to head to *McDonald's*, find a corner, stuff myself with a *McRib* or *Big Mac*, and lose myself in *Kino News*, the free periodical from the counter featuring reviews of upcoming films. That generally provided enough energy to handle the next obvious destination: *Galeria Horten*, an enormous seven-floor department store in a horrendous post-war modernist style, instantly recognizable for its glass facade and dizzying tile patterns wrapped around its cubiform mass. Caring nothing for the excessively intrusive nightmare of surplus goods and squirming hordes of consumers, I usually entered through a side-entrance and headed straight for the book section in the rear left corner of the ground floor to check the latest science fiction paperback releases. Then I'd sneak into the tucked-away elevator just around the corner, avoiding the horror of having to navigate the deliberately deceptive escalator maze, and ride up to the music CD section on the fourth floor. Back when I was still in my pre-metal alternative rock phase, I discovered a huge amount of music here by choosing random releases based purely on the album art, and asking the guy at the counter if I could give them a listen. The fastest escape route from here was up to the next floor, a huge cafeteria with panoramic windows overlooking the 1960s vision of progress below: tramlines, bus platforms, and multilane roads tangled together in a pedestrian nightmare. A separate glass elevator connected the cafeteria directly to ground zero, providing a swift escape. @@ -23,6 +23,6 @@ My social batteries recharged but now hungry, I would usually head back through In later years, when my tastes in music and reading had evolved toward more sophisticated niche genres, I tended to avoid the crowded places altogether and spend more time in some of the more off-the-beaten-path shops. Bookstores aimed at a more academic or university student crowd attracted me like magnets, and I would take detours to hidden backyard record stores that had lesser-known artists in stock for me to discover, with staff who were generally far more knowledgeable and patient than those in the mainstream places. -Another option was always the public library, a place I had loved ever since I first stepped into it as a child. I remember spending hours and hours poring over comics and scientific picture books, and later discovering authors I would read obsessively, such as *Stanisław Lem* or *H.P. Lovecraft*. They even had a small occult book section in which I spent far too much time. And CDs to borrow (and illegally copy to cassette tapes). I vividly recall countless afternoons in that library, carrying around notes of things I needed to research to satisfy my curiosity and fill in gaps that our *Encarta ’95* CD-ROM encyclopedia at home could only insufficiently cover. +Another option was always the public library, a place I had loved ever since I first stepped into it as a child. I remember spending hours and hours poring over comics and scientific picture books, and later discovering authors I would read obsessively, such as *Stanisław Lem* or *H.P. Lovecraft*. They even had a small occult book section in which I spent far too much time. And CDs to borrow (and illegally copy to cassette tapes). I vividly recall countless afternoons in that library, carrying around notes of things I needed to research to satisfy my curiosity and fill in gaps that our *Encarta '95* CD-ROM encyclopedia at home could only insufficiently cover. In retrospect, "downtown" was the [chronotope](/pages/glossary.html) of my teenage becoming. Those weekly trips were how I discovered music, books, art, ideas, and subcultures that shaped my identity. When I'm in ██████████ I still occasionally walk the same route, though almost none of the shops still exist. And yet these ghosts of places continue to carry my memories: specific albums, books, games, moments of discovery, even moods I was in when they happened. Encountering culture then felt tangible and biographical, tied to places, moments, chance, rather than the timeless, placeless abundance of the digital today. God, I sound old. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/content/20260521_berlin_dome.md b/content/20260521_berlin_dome.md index 447f089..78b106a 100644 --- a/content/20260521_berlin_dome.md +++ b/content/20260521_berlin_dome.md @@ -11,6 +11,6 @@ In the two decades I have lived in Berlin, one of the few places that has held a -A particularly unforgettable moment tied to this place was one July afternoon in 2002. The weather was unusually bad for mid-July, with occasional rain showers and gusty wind. My girlfriend, a handful of old friends, and I sat on the grassy area north of the cathedral with a hundred or so others, drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, and listening to the concert of French electronica/dream-pop duo *Air*, from afar, the music drifting across the park from the *Museumsinsel Festival* just a few hundred meters away. Their music had played a crucial role in all of our late coming-of-age. I recall letting myself get caught in a gripping swell of *Air*'s [ethereal soundscape](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpahYJ7UpP4), the music building tension in complete synchronicity with the increasingly violent bursts of wind tearing through the chestnut trees, swaying them in a dance to the beats, carrying hundreds of leaves into the sky and sending them spiraling around the oxidized copper tips of the cathedral’s towers. The harmony between the elements felt so perfectly choreographed that people in the little park began clapping and raising their voices in spontaneous joy. +A particularly unforgettable moment tied to this place was one July afternoon in 2002. The weather was unusually bad for mid-July, with occasional rain showers and gusty wind. My girlfriend, a handful of old friends, and I sat on the grassy area north of the cathedral with a hundred or so others, drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, and listening to the concert of French electronica/dream-pop duo *Air*, from afar, the music drifting across the park from the *Museumsinsel Festival* just a few hundred meters away. Their music had played a crucial role in all of our late coming-of-age. I recall letting myself get caught in a gripping swell of *Air*'s [ethereal soundscape](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpahYJ7UpP4), the music building tension in complete synchronicity with the increasingly violent bursts of wind tearing through the chestnut trees, swaying them in a dance to the beats, carrying hundreds of leaves into the sky and sending them spiraling around the oxidized copper tips of the cathedral's towers. The harmony between the elements felt so perfectly choreographed that people in the little park began clapping and raising their voices in spontaneous joy. -Several years later, on a late summer evening, crossing the *Lustgarten* with my iPod on, emotionally shaken and lost in anxious thought after the end of a five-year relationship, insecure and afraid of what lay ahead, I found myself suddenly transported back to that moment. The gritty big-band horn hook of [The Prodigy’s "Stand Up"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8axq-EVyhTw) faded into my consciousness when something in the sky caught my eye. Above the cathedral that was glowing in the evening light, an enormous flock of thousands of birds was murmurating. Just as the track's breakbeat and fuzzy bassline kicked in, building toward the first drop, the fluid mass of birds shape-shifted into a tongue-like wave painting a black-speckled upward spiral into the orange sky. The convergence of image, sound, and my own emotional state hit me with such force that tears sprang to my eyes and I had to sit down. It was a moment of simultaneous grief and breathtaking joy, instantly resonating with that afternoon with *Air* years earlier, and I lay down on a stone bench and kept watching the birds, the track on loop, for I don’t know how long, crying, desperately trying to hold on to the moment for as long as possible. \ No newline at end of file +Several years later, on a late summer evening, crossing the *Lustgarten* with my iPod on, emotionally shaken and lost in anxious thought after the end of a five-year relationship, insecure and afraid of what lay ahead, I found myself suddenly transported back to that moment. The gritty big-band horn hook of [The Prodigy's "Stand Up"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8axq-EVyhTw) faded into my consciousness when something in the sky caught my eye. Above the cathedral that was glowing in the evening light, an enormous flock of thousands of birds was murmurating. Just as the track's breakbeat and fuzzy bassline kicked in, building toward the first drop, the fluid mass of birds shape-shifted into a tongue-like wave painting a black-speckled upward spiral into the orange sky. The convergence of image, sound, and my own emotional state hit me with such force that tears sprang to my eyes and I had to sit down. It was a moment of simultaneous grief and breathtaking joy, instantly resonating with that afternoon with *Air* years earlier, and I lay down on a stone bench and kept watching the birds, the track on loop, for I don't know how long, crying, desperately trying to hold on to the moment for as long as possible. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/content/20260521_bubbacitos.md b/content/20260521_bubbacitos.md index 598d4cc..8b6447b 100644 --- a/content/20260521_bubbacitos.md +++ b/content/20260521_bubbacitos.md @@ -7,7 +7,7 @@ era: 1997 location: 33.0372261066194, -97.28392559009747 read_more: Start your engines → -My brother-for-a-year, █████, had started a spring break job as a dishwasher at the legendary [Babe’s Chicken](https://babeschicken.com/) in ███████ to top up his pocket money. One day he asked me if I was interested in a weekend job. His boss, who also owned a successful country cooking restaurant in ██████, was assembling a crew to launch a Tex-Mex food stand at the brand-new [Texas Motor Speedway](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas_Motor_Speedway), which was about to open that April. I was thrilled by the opportunity and accepted immediately. +My brother-for-a-year, █████, had started a spring break job as a dishwasher at the legendary [Babe's Chicken](https://babeschicken.com/) in ███████ to top up his pocket money. One day he asked me if I was interested in a weekend job. His boss, who also owned a successful country cooking restaurant in ██████, was assembling a crew to launch a Tex-Mex food stand at the brand-new [Texas Motor Speedway](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas_Motor_Speedway), which was about to open that April. I was thrilled by the opportunity and accepted immediately.