I visited the famous ciment Perl a chez . A lot of famous people rest there, but lot more are unknown for my encyclopedic culture.
In Alvin Tofler’s three wave theory, in human civilization there are three important waves of power: brute force, money and then intelligence, which stand for agricultural civilization, industry and finally IT.
150 years ago mothers got birth to ten children to keep 2. Present you can choose the genetic father and mother, alter the genes, clone the child, have pictures of it at 3 weeks. This is a big change.
The last 150 years are the shift from industrial era to the IT era. There are changes in the way people get married. 150 years ago, your father would have tried to convince you to ask your twelve years cousin to marry you. Today you would be an incestuous pedophile. But today you can marry your same gender, banished that time. This is a big change.
But what about the last stage in human life, the death. We are buried the same way as 150 years ago. The tradition is that 7 years after the burial, the skeleton might be removed from the cave if the family does not pay. But now, due to the chemic food, we preserved much longer then ancestors. After 30 years a body might have some parts perfectly preserved, like a half of a saint. So it’s very weird.
All the history, humans were obsessed by preserving the body, the tomb. Think about pyramids, and even Christian stone graves. History showed the date ( the name, the story ) are lost, even it was craved in marble.
We are living in the IT era. All our life is saved and digitalized since we are 3 weeks old. Think about the following scenario: after the burial of her husband, the wife starts to edit the film of the life of her beloved. Selects photos from thousands, selects minutes of film from hundreds of movies. This way she makes order in her memories and feels better. And there is the result of her work: the movie and a set of photos of the man he was. When you walk on the cimentary alleys you turn your palmtop on, you can connect to the little pc which is in the grave and get a glimpse on the man who is inside.
I wander whom should I let inherence this blog address.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
New Year's Eve in Paris
2 hours of Paris, the first 2 hours of the 2008 year.
Nine, eight, seven, nine, six, eight …
The Tour Eiffel is flashing. I am standing with an unopened champagne bottle, waiting for the New Year in a huge crowd. I am waiting for fireworks, for shouts, for kisses. My hand is freezing on the bottle, nothing. A pair started to kiss, the others still waiting. Others started to kiss. My girlfriend announced the New Year and kissed me. Well, I guess it was the New Year a little shy.
5 minutes later we are floated by the mass of people to the Champs Elysee. We are near the big victory arch. Just next to us, at about 1 meter and half, a group of 5 boys started to throw with empty bottles to the crowd. A girl screams. A chain of policemen jumps immediately on them. We pass by them. All the time we hear the ambulances sound.
55 minutes later, we arrived to the RER station, a big station. The gate is closed. I tear the chained door. Near me, a disturbed mass of cartoons is moving. We missed our train. The next is in 40 minutes.
5 minutes later, we found a little door opened and we go to the platform. We wait 30 minutes. The long waited train arrives. I jump in the car. A man is exiting with the hand on his face. I turned back. There was a toxic gas. We run outside the station. Even after 10 minutes, the throat was still hearting.
30 minutes later we try our luck and get the train.
It was a double floor wagon. When our station arrived I got down the stairs. I so a man with a mask on his face, like a gangster, going back the door between the cars. I so him behind the door, staring at me. Even I was very tired I started to act aggressively to impress him. We get off the train. I looked back and the guy was behind. He passed away with his mask. I guess it was the new fashion for that neighborhood for the New Year Night.
Thriller movies make the girls look for a refuge in the boy’s arms. I guess for the same reason the Paris is called the City of Love.
Nine, eight, seven, nine, six, eight …
The Tour Eiffel is flashing. I am standing with an unopened champagne bottle, waiting for the New Year in a huge crowd. I am waiting for fireworks, for shouts, for kisses. My hand is freezing on the bottle, nothing. A pair started to kiss, the others still waiting. Others started to kiss. My girlfriend announced the New Year and kissed me. Well, I guess it was the New Year a little shy.
5 minutes later we are floated by the mass of people to the Champs Elysee. We are near the big victory arch. Just next to us, at about 1 meter and half, a group of 5 boys started to throw with empty bottles to the crowd. A girl screams. A chain of policemen jumps immediately on them. We pass by them. All the time we hear the ambulances sound.
55 minutes later, we arrived to the RER station, a big station. The gate is closed. I tear the chained door. Near me, a disturbed mass of cartoons is moving. We missed our train. The next is in 40 minutes.
5 minutes later, we found a little door opened and we go to the platform. We wait 30 minutes. The long waited train arrives. I jump in the car. A man is exiting with the hand on his face. I turned back. There was a toxic gas. We run outside the station. Even after 10 minutes, the throat was still hearting.
30 minutes later we try our luck and get the train.
It was a double floor wagon. When our station arrived I got down the stairs. I so a man with a mask on his face, like a gangster, going back the door between the cars. I so him behind the door, staring at me. Even I was very tired I started to act aggressively to impress him. We get off the train. I looked back and the guy was behind. He passed away with his mask. I guess it was the new fashion for that neighborhood for the New Year Night.
Thriller movies make the girls look for a refuge in the boy’s arms. I guess for the same reason the Paris is called the City of Love.
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