Impressions of the final scene of Fellini’s film La Dolce Vita

Translated from Hungarian by Marie-Josée Sheeks

Meghasad a hajnal. A város felnyög.

Hirtelen hökkenéssel ébredek, mint akit éppen most teremtettek. Hétfőbe vettettem. Csivitelnek már a korai nyári pirkadást dicsérő madárhadak odakünn. Zuhany, öltözködés, szuszogás, kurvaanyád, mert ráfröccsent a kordnadrágomra egy csepp fogkrém.


Hol ment ez az egész vakvágányra? — kérdezem, pedig már nincs helye kérdésnek, mert egyrészt az ügy már több ezer éve eldőlt, le lett osztva, másrészt mert már a képernyőre meredek, vagyis bele, mintha átnéznék rajta, kivörösödött szemekkel, az Excel-táblák erdején át az édenkert egykor kortyolt, csobogó forrásaira, hűs ligetek susogó leveleire, melyek úgy szórják játszadozva az örök koramájusi napfényt az aljnövényzetre, mint…

A review of the exhibition Otto Piene: Die Sonne kommt näher, curated by Sabine Schaschl in Musem Haus Konstruktiv, Zürich

Do you want to live, live on for ever
in a game that has taken a first breath?
To lie down on the ground among flowers,
and tell me, now, do you want to play death?

Dezső Kosztolányi: Would You Like To Play?

The artists of the ZERO movement stood among the ruins in the aftermath of the Second World War, humanity’s “second attempt for suicide”, as the American novelist Kurt Vonnegut once wrote. The demolition of millions of lives, cities, and entire nations was a ruthless and frenetic emptying of the world’s canvas in an orgy of destruction, and…

An anomalistic book review of László Kővári’s Critical Thinking?

„Ein leichtes Leben, eine leichte Liebe, ein leichter Tod — das war nichts für mich.“ -
Hermann Hesse in Steppenwolf

Continued from: Part 2 — The Desecration

The Superficiality Society

The tension between the true inner self and the untrue exterior is reaching its apex. To avoid tension, one remains on the surface (“pragmatism”) and ignores the depth. Paradoxically, people without a capacity or willingness to engage in deeper self-reflection will congregate (mostly unconsciously) to celebrate and maintain the going concern of the system, even indignantly rejecting criticism aimed at the latter, mainly to avoid the effort and terror of facing depth.


An anomalistic book review of László Kővári’s Critical Thinking?

„Ein leichtes Leben, eine leichte Liebe, ein leichter Tod — das war nichts für mich.“ -
Hermann Hesse in Steppenwolf

Continued from: Part 1 — The Machine

The Desecration

People are gasping for the authentic and refreshing air of real life on the fringes of mere existence. As Byung Chul-Han, the South Korean-born German philosopher, wrote in his book Müdigkeitsgesellschaft Burnoutgesellschaft Hoch-Zeit: sacred time (which lies completely outside of the domain of work) is absorbed by profane time (time dedicated to work). …

An anomalistic book review of László Kővári’s Critical Thinking?

„Ein leichtes Leben, eine leichte Liebe, ein leichter Tod — das war nichts für mich.“ -
Hermann Hesse in Steppenwolf

Silence of the Shareholders

A young and ambitious Italian manager (1) was once invited by the owners of the American parent company for an overseas laudation: not only had he reached the best financial results of the entire group, but also obtained the largest market share deemed possible. However, stunning results often breed more expectations. In fact, the shareholders asked him to raise profits by an additional ten percent — by cutting jobs. …

Culture Without Authenticity is Propaganda

Words are empty unless what you say is authentic and meaningful. In business, people are caught n the shitstorm of high-flying buzzwords. We know them too well: integrity, innovation, diversity, transparency, teamwork, et cetera. Managers are too often satisfied with an empty shell, a well-decorated facade of a dilapidated building. Leaders aren’t. Walking the talk is damn hard.

You can’t create authenticity by pretending to be authentic, and even less by codifying this pretension. It is an oxymoron. Today tons of management literature (ever since Dale Carnegie) preach the artificial alteration of our behavior and words, instead of setting up…

Tiger got to hunt, bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder ‘why, why, why?’
Tiger got to sleep, bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand.” — Kurt Vonnegut

The disappearance of the Why

The question of the Why has been bothering me relentlessly for almost a year now. I have been continuously bumping into an almost complete spiritual and emotional void in my environment, both personally and professionally.

People — and I am no exception— tend to have no immediate clue about why they do what they do. Even if they do have some sort of an answer…

Clark works for Global Investment Management Co. in Geneva. He is a good employee: he always wears a dark tie and a white shirt.

Clark meticulosuly shines his shoes every morning at 7:30 AM.

A substitute for prayer.

He has neither vices nor whims, apart from his occasional fantasy, in which he is Clark Kent and bursts out from the office window during lunch break, wearing Superman’s costume. Tonight Clark will have a work dinner with his boss, with his boss’ boss and with his boss’ boss’ boss. …

The sighs of the wind on Lower Merton Rise
Trickled through the leaves as life,
As slowly as your sweet scent, fades away
Turning blossoming into decay

Pink-bellied clouds ran in the dark sky
October wind was blowing in July
I walked with the dog, and heard a sound
Of minutes trickling away all around

We ran in the grass, drizzle played on my face
The world suddenly seemed possible to embrace
But however fast I ran, I still heard that sound:
Of minutes trickling away all around

Darkness arrived, the clouds all turned black
The trees behind us blocked the way back
We sat down in the grass, her paw in my hand
We stayed there in silence, waiting for the end.

Zsolt Mohaxi

Irreparable flâneur. Citizen of Mitteleuropa. His motto is “habere non haberi”. Writes at his current level of ignorance. Egyre gyakrabban magyarul is.

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