April 10, 2008


It appears impossible nowadays to even go out for a coffee without the discourses of power moving across the lines of fancy to appropriate imaginative concepts, you fancifully thought were about to puke out. Yet this first transmission of ours within the spaces of four-eyed, cross-eyed, near-blind wisdom dissemination, after an FM's invitation to contribute, will not be marked by another discussion of arche-positions of authorship and typing. If anything as members of this ministerial council for quite a while we have a portfolio, a gnostic affair. And to its administration we stick.

To go on hear (sorry, here) about the relationship of aurality and audition with Cypriot politics would be out of place: an mp3 will enlighten even the most blind reader of this blog. The voice is familiar. What is most pressing is the potty pot of a semiology of the pots, dithering witheringly across other screens. The partiality by which its analysis has been contacted is not to be found only in the psychoanalyticly derived position of Panicos Hadjipanayi vis-a-vis discharging and secretion, not to mention the phenomenology of the broadcasting corporation's toilet seats. Ok it was a Costas Constantinou who fronted it - but don't we all know that the buffet was set by someone with experience in the art de la table (including seating arrangements and other chair-related matters)? It is upon such understanding that we suggest the furthering of the exploration of pot-related pot imports-related reseacrh into other than of culinary use. Not receiving halloumi can not be seen as a mere coincidence either.

It is of course understandable that aided by the often defended superiority and wealth of the Greek language -if not here in other related fora- the pot has been traced back to things gastronomical. Oh c'mon: don't you go to pot. Mimic Nicosia and subtract a line. Having never really had the chance to develop potamology, this pot-bellied potage is a laudable pot-valor. Especially within the contexts of a water preservation campaign. We have all after all seen what water does to the bottom of boats. Yet the pot's potence is a hot potato that needs to picked up and not be pot-bound to the burbling pot that has been recently been seen rambling along this desert land of ours.

One forgets, or indeed would like to forget and have us forget, that the figure of the pot has not just been traveling along geometrical and geographical locales, but also across four-eyed wifes' hands. What are we to think by Ogias presentation of a pot of lilies to Elsi while days earlier another pot was collapsing under the weight, wait, of Pittokopitis? What contribution to the above and below mentioned semiology of the pot does the recent anti-pot campaigns by the police in relation to the potty discourse about Ledras' pots? Did Pittokopitis know of them before getting up a pot to trim branches? Or was the pot simply wet? Is this pot-exchange another clue to the kind of solution promoted, one of give and take, one of sharing monopolies? Will the estate of Takis Stavrinides sue for royalties? Will girls formerly monopolising the pot's adjectival use be forced to learn how to tango if they are to keep their current positions? Will Olympia Doukakis claim her experiences next to John Travolta in "Look Who's Talking Too" [Pee-pee in the po-tty. :||] and hijack Antroullas Vassileiou's EU role, as all these pot business come down to health and safety matters?

Spotted above is a mention to the desert. Introducing pots to the desert is of course one of the pottiest ideas ever as any pot-trained person would tell you. Yet we've done it. Without even a David Hasselhoff in sight. Even though spatially we might have wanted to make away with pots and plastic sheeting (copious amounts of Pomerol would be a possible alternative) to go on about the flower pots promiscuity is such a pooh-bah's pooh-pooh. Witholding ourselves from another po'd anti-authoritarian criticism of the police's affinity with pot - since it's them who have been primarily flirting with them bloody pots- we would like to refer to the melting pot of the ink pot inscribing poco a poco the podia given to us: the aporia.

Are we, finally, talking about nature or culture?


Blogger Noullis said...

On behalf of the Foreign Ministry of Stravaraland I'd like to point our readers to VLC player which will play that mp3 file if, by any chance they encounter technical difficulties. Acid trip!

And off we go in search of pot[s]

11 April, 2008 00:56  
Anonymous milaz said...

man standing on toilet is high on pot...

11 April, 2008 10:51  
Anonymous the Idiot mouflon said...



(Spot the Pot, foreshadow?)

11 April, 2008 17:39  

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