I can't find words convincing enough to capture the extent to which I am against today's policy of putting street dogs to sleep or locking them up in cheap euphemisms for concentration camps - infirmaries.
The same goes for giving those creatures into the hands of various spoiled people to adopt them and thereby kill their essence and cut off at the root the aesthetics that are born in every swollen belly of a newly mated bitch! The feeling of having a pack of a dozen mangy, toothless and rotten dogs hanging around me makes me happy. Maybe I share this feeling with someone else, and maybe not. I haven't asked about it, and I don't give a damn. The fact remains that they make me happy. Just as the wizard Merlin was happy in the presence of unicorns.
Okay, I'm not exactly Merlin.
Zombified dogs in all their shapes, forms and smells are far from Unicorns. And our fucking cities are not mirrors of Avalon, a place in this world, but not of it. Except maybe Resen, which occasionally smells of apples.
But that doesn't mean there's no beauty in the whole situation. Of course, the word perception will appear in this text because of the subjective experience of beauty. Which doesn't always have to be smooth, fine and organized. Unlike here, on an island where piles of perceptions exported across the Channel originate (no, it's not Japan, for fucks sake), folk proverbs have meaning. Like the one - The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Why, oh damned subjects of television lobotomy, are you trying to kill the dystopian idyll of our cities with the help of blinders in the form of hypocrisy and a crippled essence of morality!? If an animal rights activist tells you that he respects diversity, do him a favor and don't take him seriously. Because he wants this city to be different like... Zurich!?
Can this city be like Zurich?
And that by building a roof before the foundations, as always.
Neither Skopje would be Skopje, nor Bitola - Bitola, nor Veles - Veles without their beautiful four-legged symbols of dystopia and harbingers of a non-existent future that has the sheen of an ulcer on the skin of a half-decayed dog. And I'm not just talking about dogs, I'm not forgetting the other animals, the cats that drag a rib found in a container that was gnawed by a man for lunch and dinner and, by God, for breakfast, the rats, the eternal Condottieri of the transition processes, from here to Kinshasa, the jackdaws like morning trolls, the sparrows that hang around in parks, the cockroaches as a sign that the end is knocking at the door...
They are all just travelers from the future in our time, reminders of the errors in the foundations of the system. Maybe that's why there is so much hatred towards them. Who knows . They hate almost everyone, from those who would shoot them in the streets to those who keep cats on the seventh floor and love them so much that they break their eggs to turn them into moving toys. Ah...love...in a time of general decay and decay, you can be loved and adored even without your testicles.
Second best option?
Inter-dystopian cooperation and mutual assistance!
Charter flights with North Korean students who would come to us with the aim of getting to know the strange local culture and frivolous lifestyles. They could also watch a video by Slaven Žižek, since the authorities there are hostile to the Web. And since exchange is exchange - perhaps the most useful thing would be for mom and dad's sons and daughters to head in the opposite direction, to broaden their horizons and get acquainted with a bizarre culture, different in all aspects of existence and to try to progressively influence their colleagues on the other side of reality.
Why the hell not?
(Roger Mortis 021)
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