Rosetta stone, chapter 1. (video)

Me vs. Rosetta Stone, a language learning software.

Next episode: more lights, less tired Peter, more memory on card (best parts of the recording are gone).

My little guide to Gangnam style

As it has just become the most popular video on youtube. It's impossible to ignore. A little summary of Gangnam Style, parodies, own experiences and more.

So the whole thing started like this. It wreaked havoc through the world, but somehow it managed to avoid my attention. Until September. By then I had to admit that it is probably the most popular thing since Thriller, Titanic and Las Ketchup song. Combined.

It's just impossible to survive a day without hearing it at least once as a ringtone on the phone, but after a month it has become a daily routine, such as going to the toilet, lamenting my life or going to bed after 2 am. However I felt that Gangnam Style should be a challenge to draw: at the end of some classes I play a drawing game at the board with the kids. Soon I had to realize that GS isn't anywhere near to the "very hard" category (where I put it earlier). Normally it takes 4 seconds for an average kid to figure it out, what's more, mostly the drawing looks like this:

Until my most recent couchsurfing experience tho I didn't dig deeper to the depths of the meme of the decade. Juan (ARG) and Sonia (ITA) comitted the mistake: they admitted that they know nothing about Gangnam Style. After introducing the video, we got totally addicted to it with Juan: we were watching how to dance the gangnam style videos, parodies from our nations (bottom line: the Hungarian is the worst piece of shit), but above all, discovered Hyuna, the Pokémon with a humanoid body:

Whose only talent is riding the waves of the PSY-tsunami. Enough to watch one video from her and we'll be sure Gangnam Style is a complicated masterpiece. Watch my brothers' reaction around 0.30:

But PSY rolls on, after stealing the show at the annual EMI awards, appearing with several celebrities in The Glamorous West Side Of The Earth, and the world just can't get tired of it. See my favorite prank below:

Days passed and Juan forgot to dance the Gangnam Style. We never listened to Hyuna's Pikachu voice; the meme has left our everydays. But not the rest of the world. If you can't get enough of it, click from new IP addresses to accomplish the goal which apparently united humanity for the first ime. And make it up to a billion.

Oppa...

Update: The best gangnam video ever.

About turkish men

There is something fascinating about Turkish men. No, not the amount of hair they generally possess, nor the endless number of tea and cigarette they consume. It's about the inexplicable change they go through during their childhood.

I always loved children but comparing them (who is more beautiful etc.) is just nonsense, they are all beautiful (just wait until mine rascals are born, I will change my mind). But I have to say Turkish little boys are the cutest on the planet. They are all small, fatty a bit, big eyes and curious nature, fooling around everywhere in the town, with or without parents. For turkish readers: the type of kid you say 'senin ağzını yerim' to.

But then something happens. While beautiful kids usually end up being beautiful adults, most turks lose their looks through puberty. It's seems impossible to me that those small white boys evolve into dark skinned, hairy and... well, something like this:

And please don't say this happens with all the kids. From around the age of 10 you can tell how an earthling will look like during his manhood, except for turks. Period.

Trabzon men (yes Turks in general but I have experience only with the first) have this nasty habit of walking together in groups of 5-10, all holding hands (arms, sorry). As I learnt it's just a sign of great friendship. My friend, Dovydas from Lithuania though committed a mistake during our erasmus and asked some of these guys whether they were gay or not, which they took as a great offense.

But let's get back to style. I have an ongoing mission during my stay: finding out why the heck do all men feel that they should all dress in suits. The answers I got so far:

- I don't know
- They want to look smart

But it's a real phenomena: from the shoe cleaner to the driver of the dolmuş, I'd say 80% of the city's male population wear suits. It's as traditional as wearing sombrero in Mexico, poncho in Peru, vodka in Russia, or women in Hungary (hope you understand the tricky composition here). My sole theory is that Atatürk was dressing smart all the time. It would make sense since the love towards the father of turks already explained the widespread rakı consumption, unkempt eyebrows and piercing looks amongst men.

Still, they are great friends and don't be surprised if after an hour they offer you things that you may never receive in Europe (any kind of help you need). So no matter how hairy they are, bushy their eyebrow is, or how often they cling on your arms, men of Turkey are reliable and excellent friends.

Except for the few motherfuckers I hate.

I tried to have a good life...

(I brought you a song, check it out here, start before reading: http://www.melodycenta.com/flash_player/flash_black.php?type=1&id=7296 in italics, fragments of the lyrics can be read. Got some inspiration by some lines of it and the blues guitar; enjoy!)

I've tried it I swear. Fought back decay with my fear-driven actions. I've had enough.
I'm only saying that it won't work like this anymore. Quicksand it is, this decay pulls me faster and the grip tightens as I try to fight back.

I tried to have a good life...

But now I know that I was wrong.

Wondering through the rainy city that loves me, the one I hate back. Rain soaks my jacket. The cold wind blows right through me. I'm cold down to my bones. The faceless crowd flows on. I like to think I'm different; but I'm just one in a thousand. I look at the troubled faces and believe that I'm not like them. Then I realize I am. I realize the other thousands feel exactly the same. That they are special. That God has secret and unique plans with them. They all believe their lives will eventually turn upside down. They are in God's favor. They have to be in God's favor. No one else: the dull people of the street are just assisting to the grand plan, the plan where they play the main role. The messiah, the righteous and kind friend of God himself. They all dream the same role. To be unique. To be the only one.

Don't know the reason why I'm here...

What is better? To dream about glorious march towards eternal fame and righteousness but not do anything; or to live the good life but not dream anything special? Or with other words: to be a lazy dreamer or a busy, realistic person? Anyways, where does the dreamer go? The dreamer is a witch. Differs from others. Cannot share the dream so expelled from society. Often ran down and laughed at. Tortured. Eventually, slained.

A witch is hanging from a tree

Let the witch hang! 

I stoop as drops of rain dribble down my neck. Shivering, I arrive at the seaside. Angry waves rumble as they bounce off the rocks of the coast again and again. Myriads of tiny stones cover the sand as I tumble through the beach. I'm a candle in the deep night, standing in the throat of the storm. The dreams I have and the happiness left, all united in a small candlelight now. Mighty waves come and go, and I feel fragile. No more dreams. I'm not God's favorite Peter anymore. The wrath of nature thus life is roaring all around me. Dreams cannot stay hidden now. Dreams never live long, the same way the candlelight dies in the storm in a second. 

Crouching and still shivering, I fınd some dry paper. A few sticks of wood. I build a little tent out of it. The candle dwells in the middle. Fire spreads and flames born in the storm. Waves rumble in anger. But the fire gives warmth now. Orange sparks jump around me. I'm not cold anymore...

I tried to have a good life...

But now I know I am right.

Sleeping habits

I owed the foreign audience with the translation of this post. Sleeping habits, how I imagine and how it really is.

Ideal relationship (0% probability)

Passionate love (10%, bed's others functions used)

Sad truth (99% probability)

After some hard nights from uni (100% probability)

Current phase just to ensure I receive enough pity (uninterpretable)