Friday, 16 October 2015
Culture, rock and transfiguration. By Stevievie Haston.
In Prague, or is it Praha, me too pisted to understand spelling now. Had too much culture, or what passes for culture nowadays. Praha was great yesterday in the pissing rain, cos all the Korean, and Brits on dirty week ends, and assorted others were sheltering from the water falling from the sky harmlessly. Today Prague was shite, wading thru Tour "Conger lines" of dilapidating culturally stuffed ignorant people, made me long for the Praha I visited in 1985.
In 1985 I went ball room dancing in Praha when the pubs shut at 1 or 2, and still managed to cop off, we didn't need cheap red bull vodka shit and sleazy discos lights.
Was it Goebbels who said "I reach for my gun when I hear the word culture"? Today I got lost in a European myopic quagmire of Tesco mania, has Tesco taking over the Czeck! It's raining, give me a break God, or god, or deity that I can bribe, I want to go climbing.
The Thai massage parlours in several of the streets were probably the last straw, the swans were still there, as was the Jewish quarter, but where was Praha?
Admittedly I shouldn't have had those six beers, but I did miss that old thing, you know thinking you were in a foreign country thing, you know, thinking like, well you were travelling to somewhere other than seedy old be-draggled London.
When I went over Charles bridge once apon a time a long time ago, there was a guy unconscious in a flat bottomed boat, by the first pier. He had a big empty bottle of ¨Slivovitz¨, and a damp book as companions. So other pet peeves, you cannot park with out paying in Saxon Swiss, no bivouac. How do you expect brave girls and boys, young and geriatric, to brave those run outs? Other pet peeves, just read Jerry Moffat's book (finally) and was he the best? In 1982 and 1983 Jerry was really good, but was he the best? Was he fook!