Basque ethnic rhino goes Superlambananas too

I had planed to post something “on swans, spuds and ducks” but we’ll leave it for another time, hopefully next week. The thing is I have gone Superlambananas too and quickly put a miniclip together which I feel like I have to show you. Here it is. If you read below you may refrain from watching it so click first and, if anything, give up on the reading.

This is about the 100+ superlambananas spread out all over Liverpool with  hit song “Sweet about me” by Gabriela Cilmi (Lessons to be Learned, 2008, Universal Records). Great song but as you well know, there is no such thing as a free lunch.

To my Liverpudlian friends and relatives I say: Don’t end up with a cob on alŗŗĬght! I am no Boris Jonson. Enjoy the main first bit, take the second with a pinch of salt and think about it: 1966… 1976… 1986… 1996… 2006… Deep down, it is just probably that I cannot bear the prospect of the Spanish going on and on and on for 40 years + about wining not even the World but a single European Cup.

To my Zizekean-Lacanian friends, I hope you appreciate the politically motivated torture-is-culture short-circuit that operates here. The opposite does not necessarily apply although we also know that popular aesthetic taste often/historically equates innovation in art with expressions such as “this is utter rubbish” and the like, in short: avantgarde culture is torture etc. On top of that, I am pretty sure you will also pick on my own object petit a but what the Foucault! I am well aware that by doing a bit of a de-centred and kind of out of place, low-brow e-artivism I’m also throwing the ball to a court where the game is not even on. And yes, I also know all too well that overall the weather is quite miserable as it is around here for me to pontificate against anybody’s preferred holiday resort. And yet, you know what: never mind, I too am entitled to one prejudice or two and yes, the 3 Ibiza SSS probably constitute my own displaced object of hidden desire; which is why in my wildest dreams I’d ultimately love to be a scouser having Sex under the Sun with a bottle of San Migüel next to me, or is it a Spanish bullfighter playing castanets ole! , I don’t know, I forget. In any case I apologise because I got the slogan slightly wrong at the end of the clip and wrote Sand instead of Sun.

To my Basque pro-independence and socialist friends I say we keep on going regardless. We haven’t got anything to loose, and it is not as if we are expecting any kind of meaningful international solidarity or something, is it? People are either busy-busy with their own things and they’ve got a lot on their own plates as it is, or if they are a bit lefty-farty they feel confier supporting causes which are a bit further away. It’s kind of more chic and right on to support the Palestinian and Tibetan struggles!  So we know exactly what we haveto do. Only victory, total victory will do the trick and then let everybody else sitting on the fence give their own opinion, I think this, I think that, for all we’ll then care!

And finally to my Spanish friends, well, by now we know that it is certainly not nationality which unites us, so maybe we should start looking for another class of consciousness that keeps us tuned in. Closing down radio stations and newspapers, banning political parties and social movements, the indiscriminate imprisonment of political leaders, human right activists, town mayors etc and, no matter what anybody says to the contrary, the widespread practice of torture will not do. You see, I know it as a fact that, yes, ok,  there is a general indifferent attitude towards politics, sure, but by the same token, there is less and less people who buy into this ‘war on terror’ crap, and less so when used as fit to all and any purpose. In this respect, I would still add that yes, we are like flies, if you like, ugly and a disgusting nuisance. Now whatever your government, your mass media and your judges may think, say and do, flies cannot be killed with RPGs. Hence we will come over and over and over again spitting your own shit back where it belongs, right under your nostrils…

Sorry again! I forgot is summer… and…sunny! I’ll have some lamb and a bottle of San Migüel, please!

Mint sauce? Excellent! Yes, please… 

For afters? For afters never you mind, I’ll be fine, thank you very much indeed.