State of The Nation

Statistics are being done on a relatively small representative group of people, and you can do them just about everywhere. Do it once or twice and you’re generalizing, do it frequently and you you got something.

On my travels with Slovenian tourists at least two of the fifty people are always crazy, alcoholics or something like that. To put it in a common category – they’re fucked up. Does that mean statistically two out of fifty Slovenians are fucked up? Probably yes.

See, when you walk the streets of my home town for two hours, if you meet at least two completely crazy people, that’s a good proof that you’re on to something with that statistics. And I mean really crazy people. Talking, yelling to themselves etc. I don’t blame them, though. In this town, in this country, like Seal once said, we got to get a little crazy to survive. In fact, you have to go completely nuts, because living in this country is an act of madness in itself.

We are faced with complete devalueation of life, culture, art, work, personality, individuality, privacy… Relativism, egotism and individualism have gone hand-in-hand so far that nothing matters anymore. We don’t see the other side, other people, other views. Blinders on and we push our views to the limit. But that’s just an extension of what you can see in my home town.

I don’t know if I can actually take it as a measure for statistics, because Kranj has been fucked up for quite some time. Where else do you have an area of highest crime rate a few footsteps away from the police station? Or steal a bus from a station again a fart away  from the police. Not to mention the work of our doctors, who hardly have any clue, and they tend to mess you up even more. And those are just officials that have made a lot of mistakes in their history. Like detaining an injured boy until he died etc. It happened, you can’t deny it, but I’m not generalizing.

Walking down the street, you can frequently smell pot. It’s like everybody’s getting high. It’s so normal it’s like eating lunch everyday. Well, like I said, you can’t survive if you don’t get a little crazy, very high, or very drunk. Well, Slovenians tend to be incapable of having fun without getting wasted or drowning in alcohol. Everyone, who says I’m exaggerating is probably a heavy drinker himself and hasn’t seen 12-year-olds chain-slamming tequilas, racing themselves towards an alcoholic comma. So think again. And think a little further. What’s up with the parents of these kids? Don’t they notice? Don’t they care? Don’t they know? In any case, something’s not right.

I felt like I’m photographing the epithomy of all the crap this country’s waded into. Yesterday, I needed to photograph some of the cultural heritage of my town and boy was I surprised. Went down to the old city centre, got to the first historically important house. Bleiweis’s House (a biologist etc…). And it’s parked, some construction vans standing in front of it. In fact, the whole town is congested with parked cars. Which is something you don’t see in any other city centre as old and historically important as in our town. But that’s not all, Puhar’s house (the inventor of glass photography) was also inaccessable, because vans were parked in front. Layer’s house was under construction, with a huge dog shit in front of a makeshift muddy door. Prešeren’s monument was hardly accessable, because they were making an ice skating ring in front. And Bleiweis’s monument was also inaccessable, becuase they were also demolishing sidewalks around it. The whole town is a constructions site 365 days in a year. And hardly anything gets done. This is the town, where three seperate companies rip through the street to place cables, but they do it one after another. Imagine: the first one messes up the street, patches it up, new concrete and everything. Three days later, new guys come along and dig in again. Fix it like the ones before them, but in a week, the third party’s here to destroy the street once again. Needless to say, they’re not all digging in the same place. No, they need to move away from the previuos scar, so when all three are done, the street is all pathes.

My last stop yesterday was Prešeren’s gaj, a park in memory of our greatest poet. His grave and monument are there, as well as Simon Jenko’s, one of our greatest writers. But mind you, this is Kranj, and a place like this is used as a drinking and smoking facility. It’s long been known to house drunkards, junkies and drinking fests. That Prešeren’s statue has seen more traficing than the avarage Colombian police officer.

During my visit, it was empty. Highschool drunkards were still in school. I’m greated by a sign stating that this is a cultural monument. Scratched on it are the words “Drink City”. Need I say more? 

Benches in the park have bottles stored under the seat. Prešeren’s got mustache and a goatee drawn. And many white surfaces of statues have seen more pen action than the notebooks of all the deviant school kids partying among the dead poets.

It’s a tribute to Prešeren, I guess. He was pretty gassed up all the time, that’s a fact. Birds of feather flock together, but this is mockery nevertheless. But that’s the way things have shaped up in this country. I won’t say the world. Go to a third world country, where capitalism hasn’t plagued them. Where they know what life means and value it. You’ll see it’s a lot different than this fucked up world.

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