Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Signs of the time

If you've lived long enough in Greece you already know the drill. Out of the blue the red and white ribbon appears (nowdays) with no explanation, no excuse and no end in sight, claming that piece of public space you most value, be it the road to work and back, or your home's sidewalk with the loud construction noise sideffect, which if you work 9 to 5 will probably miss (this is a good chance to highlight the fascism of "normal people" working "normal hours" rights vs graveyard shift underprivileged people rights problem), still you'll have to cope with the dust, the lack of parking space (like if there was plenty before) and a feeling of insecurity when your elders (or minors) have to go out and "walk the plank".

The first sign reads: We are sorry for the inconvenience, but the contractor last year lost his glasses somewhere around here.

The second sign reads: We are sorry for the inconvenience, but last year the country was not undergoing a finacial crisis and we burried granma with her golden teeth on.

In most of the civilized world, there are explanatory boards or notes stating when the work is going to start, what is it's nature, why it must be done, on what matter the work at hand will improove your life once completed and lastly but most importan when your torture will end...

It's very important to be able to picture the end of something, it helps you program your after-public works life, or at least bare it until your parking or sleeping habits return to normality. That's why even computers have execution time-bars, to make us feel that we can better program our tasks aka our time aka our lives.

...In most of the civilized world...
Last time i recall seeing any note was a week prior to Pope John Paul's visit in Greece and wheren't explanatory... where actually no-parking orders from the police...

It's not street art, it's -dunno- street humor maybe which does have it's own value. An action aimed at taking back that lil ugly piece of public space we are denied -or worst tortured with- and turning it to something funny, an act of putting a caption on a urban scene and transforming it into editorial cartoon.
If you can tell a tree by it's fruits, lots of people called their friends laughed together and took their pictures in front of theses piles of dirt... wich is something unusual under everyday dull-city circumstances, isn't?

P.S.: The papers survived three days rain... didn't survive people who took 'em with them... only a few remained for workers to see tomorrow...
And i'm betting that lots of people gonna ask them if they've found anything yet.

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