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Monthly Archives: April 2014

The following part of this blog entry is pure fiction. No relation to existing people or events is implied.

Καρδιά μου καημένη (short story)

by drs. Efthimia Dilpizoglou (c) 2014 all rights reserved

You can see the back of the head of the blogger right there at the very front. You’re glad you don’t have to see the front because she’s even uglier than you are. Her hair has the same colour as your own. Female nerds like this one should be put up against the wall and shot, they are an offense to the senses. Your life would be so much easier if you never had to look at people like this. If you had an axe you would’ve smashed her head to pieces, if you had a gun you would’ve blasted her ugliness away, if you had a bow and arrow you would be LARPing you’re William Burroughs. You swallow back your spit to calm yourself down. Lubing your throat so that το Γρύλισμα can slide down into your chest and have fun inside you. Το Γρύλισμα emerges from your chest Alien-style with your still beating heart in it’s fangs and jumps over the heads of the people ahead of you towards the front row where the blogger is sitting. Το Γρύλισμα stands before her, looking up at her like a puppy dog and says: “I think you are awesome. It was about time someone wrote something like that. Damn straight! Not many people hold on to their principles the way you do. I wish I had flowers but I think you will appreciate what I got you instead.”. The blogger doesn’t even look up because she is always writing. Το Γρύλισμα tosses your beating heart onto her lap. The blogger jumps up and screams, everyone is staring at her now. Not that anyone else wants to look at her but a person shouting like that is hard to ignore. Your bleeding heart falls onto the floor, no one notices, they only see a blogger up on her chair with a huge bloodstain on her shirt losing it. There’s the inevitable person in the back hissing “Shhhhh!” like it’s a GawdDamned library. The blogger runs out the room, screaming as she flies down the stairs. A fair skinned young girl like the ones that always appear in your dreams, less so in your movies, picks your heart up from the floor and with the skill of a pro basketball player passes it to you, straight into the gaping hole in your chest. You want το Γρύλισμα to toss this girl onto your lap. The girl asks, “Τι μαλακίες είναι αυτές επιτέλους; Σου αρέσει να παίρνεις βραβεία για τις μαλακίες σου;” You stare at her in disbelief. “Τι σημασία έχει να μου δίνουν βραβεία για τις μαλακίες μου όταν δεν μου επιτρέπεται να μαλακίζομαι στις ταινίες μου; Δεν μου επιτρέπουν καν πια να κυκλοφορώ γυμνός στο ίδιο μου το διαμέρισμα. Βραβεύομαι για να λογοκρίνομαι και να καταπιέζομαι;”

“Σιγά την λογοκρισία! Σιγά την καταπίεση!”. Hanging from a lamp on the ceiling το Γρύλισμα brings down the house, landing on your face with it’s gargantuan Jabba sized ass, flattening you before you even notice what’s happening. “ΑΥΤΟ ειναι καταπίεση, stupid! Σου αρέσει απ’τον κώλο;”


The Boy – Δεν
free mp3 download:

το Γρύλισμα appears courtesy of ΜΟΥΣΙΚΟ ΚΙΝΗΜΑ: (ΜΑΥΡΕΣ) ΤΡΙΧΕΣ.



Hey there lurker, I see you won a prize…

Ο The Boy (Αλέξανδρος Βούλγαρης, γιός του Παντελή) κέρδισε το βραβείο μουσικής για τους «Αισθηματίες» του Νίκου Τριανταφυλλίδη


Congradulations *snort* How reassuring to learn that the Greek Film
Academy supports cinematic pedophilia apologists and advocates just because their surname happens to be “Voulgaris” which is considered a family film-brand in Greece. Kinda like the Arquettes are considered a family “mafia” in Hollywood; maybe someone will be coding such a Wikipedia entry about the Voulgarises in the near future? Oh, and would you molest my children too in your movies, Greek Film Academy judges, since you think it is acceptable for a film-maker to be advocating exactly that despite the widespread ban on the sexual exploitation of children in movies?

Greek oikogeniocracy at work in full swing

Mark my words: no regular Greek film-maker, actor or OST composer in
any category whatsoever would ever win a single prize at the Greek Film
Academy awards if they ever came out in support of pedophilia and
children performing sex scenes with adults, let alone anyone urging his
followers on Facebook to download de facto criminal child pornography
such as Maladolescenza by deceiving them it’s supposedly “a soft porn
teen movie”. What you are witnessing here is not someone being awarded
because they really deserve it. What they deserve is to be shunned by
the whole industry for advocating what amounts to naked exploitation and abuse. You are witnessing the rotten Greek system of oikogeniocracy at work, families of influence and power conspiring with fellow travelers to cover up who Alexander Voulgaris really is and what he really stands for by showering him with prizes.

Does anyone still doubt my claims that the Voulgarises are untouchable
in Greece because they are “the equivalent of left-wing royalty”? I am
not exaggerating folks, it entirely true and this just goes to show. As
for his dad winning prizes for Little England, I paid to see that movie
and loved it just as I loved all the other movies by his dad. At least
someone got awarded by the Academy who really deserves it.

drs. Efthimia Dilpizoglou


I have no opinion on David Cronenberg’s career or his state of mind or anything else besides the handful of Cronenberg movies I have seen. Based on what I’ve seen, which like I said is less than a handful, I would say that his work is uneven and arouses no interest in me to seek out more. I don’t know whether Cronenberg is a “philosopher-director”, neither do I care to find out. His work leaves me completely indifferent as to his state of mind.

The only movies by Cronenberg I know well enough to have an opinion on are The Fly (tried to watch it once, only managed to watch half of it and I never tried to watch it again), eXistenZ which I’ve seen several times and can happily and readily watch all over again, and Crash which was his breakthrough movie in the Netherlands and is just an unbearable unwatchable creepfest with the creepiest actors, literally the only thing I like about Crash is that atmospheric instrumental guitar music over the simple but perfect opening credits which is a sequence of headlights in the dark of the night. Something is very wrong with your movie when everything else can be deleted but the opening credits. I had resisted watching Crash for years, but I finally forced myself to watch the Crash DVD that has been lying around in my house for years over several nights because the hype and myth around it did make me curious and I relented. I can’t believe I did that, Crash, to myself. What a waste of time.

I have a question for all you Crash fetishists: If Jacob’s Ladder, which came out in 1990, is considered a post-modern movie (a movie about someone dying being stuck between the state of being living and the state of being dead seeking release), what does that make Crash (a movie about people dying being stuck between the state of being living and the state of being dead seeking release) which came out in 1996? Late-by-6-years-post-modernism? Post-post-modernism? Oh, now we’re REALLY getting philosophical, aren’t we?! Does uncle Cronenberg the philosopher-director have the answer?! Or does he want you to “think for yourself”, and “to be an active participating viewer” (all the pomo cliches), since he knows you can’t be arsed to sit down and read the book (which is depoliticized in the movie, it was a book meant to ridicule American car-culture, by extension to decry American industrial consumer culture) because none of you read books anymore and even tend to forget that a film is at its heart a screenplay, a text you have to read to really understand all the visual candy dangled before you? I gave the seemingly unlikely example of Jacob’s Ladder up there because I do not feel like Cronenberg’s doing anything fundamentally different with Crash. These two seemingly different movies are really about the same thing: being stuck between states, which by 1990 was already a pomo staple. The only difference between them is that Jacob’s Ladder is about release in the metaphysical sense, and Crash is strictly objectivist/atheist with no metaphysical elements whatsoever, release being just a technical-medical matter of crashing your face straight into the windshield. Where is the advanced philosophy in that?

I tried to watch Cronenberg’s 2002 Spider one summer ago but it was such a sleep inducing bore, I couldn’t make it past the 5th chapter, I don’t even have the Spider DVD anymore. If I may venture an opinion on Cronenberg mental state, it was as if all the creepfests he’s been making over the years have completely dulled his senses, so he went and made Spider in a state of numbness. So watch out boys and girls in film-school, too much creepy will do that to ya!

drs. Efthimia Dilpizoglou



I cannot believe my eyes! The pedophile-friendly Royal Kingdom of the Netherlands, a notorious safe haven for the most despicable pedos you can imagine, has just this week proceeded to ban an entire pedophilia advocacy organization:

The pro-paedophilia organisation Martijn should be banned, the Dutch supreme court ruled on Friday, marking the end of a legal battle which began in 2011.

The court’s decision is in line with recommendations made by the advocate general in March. He said the organisation should be banned because the protection of children should weigh more heavily than freedom of expression.

The Martijn Foundation campaigns for the legalisation of sexual contact between adults and children and has been the subject of a convoluted legal battle for years.

because the protection of children should weigh more heavily than freedom of expression“, this is something Voulgaris and his followers still have to figure out, as does the Greek government that is openly funding Voulgaris while he continues to spew his pedophilia apologetics and advocacy on Facebook.

Speaking of which, oh yes, wave at the lurking cameraboy’s camera over there boys and girls because he is still there, right there… See what he’s doing? He’s taking pictures of you, boys and girls, bathing innocently and unaware in the water.

She said: He sets the bar so high, gets you to root for him, yet he aims so low, lower than freak-basement low.
He said: Για μένα η πιο φυσιολογική,αληθινή,ανθρώπινη,θαρραλέα και πολιτική ταινία είναι το Freaks του Todd Browning.

She said: I openly dare him to have the screenplay for “Νήμα” translated into English and sent to an American talent agency, I am sure it will come back with the reader’s signature under the words “fuck you”.
He said: Δικιά μου πρόταση είναι να γυρίσουμε πίσω αυτές τις ταμπέλες με ενα μεγάλο αντε γαμήσου πάνω.

So you’re still lurking… *hand staple forehead*

It’s that I’m under a restraining order otherwise I would show you where I got that phrase from, about you getting back your screenplay from an American talent agency with the reader’s “fuck you” over his signature. It’s not mine, I steal left and right from others just like you do with my blog entries. The guy I stole it from is right here as we speak, yes, you are not alone, he is lurking here too just like you do, I wish you two guys could meet eachother and lurk together, maybe becoming lurking buddies gezellig samentjes cyberstalking the cyberstalker. Tune in over 3 months when I can post the source-article, since you claim you’re a “screenwriter first” you will like reading it, and hopefully learn a few things before you dare call yourself a “screenwriter first” again.

Άρρωστες είναι οι ταινίες που πάσχουν απο κάποια ασθένεια. Αυτές είναι οι ταινίες του Michael Bay (απο κάποιο σύνδρομο που επηρέαζει την λειτουργία του μυαλού),κάποιες απο τις ταινίες του Spielberg (ψυχολογικό πρόβλημα ενος ανθρώπου που θα ήθελε να είναι πιο σοβαρός απ’οτι είναι),ολες οι ταινίες του Σμαραγδή (απο κοινή Old school τρέλα).

What, no Peter Jackson bashing?! Yes, everybody who considers themselves a serious film geek bitchez about Michael Bay but they still go and watch and cheer on Platinum Dunes movies whenever those come out. Guess who’s behind that company bucko. Did you like the Friday the 13th reboot? The Texas Chainsaw Massacre reboot? That’s right, Bay produced them together with his Platinum Dunes buddies. Did you know Bay’s Platinum Dunes buddies own the rights to your beloved Hitchcock’s The Birds? You might find Bay lurking where you didn’t imagine him, kinda like you do at my blog.

Και τότε τι είναι φυσιολογικό; Και τι είναι αληθινό;

What’s real? DOCS ARE! I got this in the mail just today via Artforum:

Once the barriers of what constitutes documentary have been breached, the application of the “documentary” tag becomes increasingly discretionary. After all: The machine cannot lie! To paraphrase Animal Farm, all movies are nonfiction, but some movies are more nonfiction than others. Even the burden of photographic proof isn’t a requirement at “Art of the Real.”

And if you had a clue about Kubrick you would know what a documentarian and an archivist he was. He was a photographer before he became a film-maker. His debut Killer’s Kiss was based on a documentary he had prepped for his employer in NY about a boxer. Has it ever occured to you that Kubrick was such a great film-maker because unlike you he was not sheltering himself from reality but was immersed in the documentary image of the real as the foundation of his artistry? (I always compare this to the way a good traditional painter has to practice with life models to learn how to make the human body work for them in their own paintings.) But you already knew all that didn’t you, εγκυκλοπαιδική πουτανιτσα του Stanley?!

Oh, and another thing since you are lurking, when I say Heaven’s Gate, I am talking about the CULT, not the movie:

You say you dig Throbbing Gristle, have you ever heard this mr Transgression?

That’s Genesis P’Orridge’s Psychic TV playing the tape of cult-leader Jim Jones’ cult-members drinking the kool aid saying “Thank you dad”. That’s the kinds of references those of us have who are into documentaries and firmly embedded in reality. Got it now? When I was translating the Sunbed Coffins song, this is how I imagined the people sunbathing themselves to death in your sci-fi, as being part of a religious cult.

Όταν ο Cronenberg είναι “sic and twisted”,

And for goodness’sake LEARN ENGLISH, it’s SICK and twisted, CK, fucking Calvin Klein!

I never said Cronenberg is sick and twisted. This is my full quote from my expossay on you:

Alexander Voulgaris not only diminishes the coming-out of a female rape-victim by erasing the victim altogether from the equation, thus implicitly defending Woody Allen’s supposed “right” to rape his own child as a father, in Voulgaris’ truly sick and warped unreasoning the right of a father to rape his own daughter somehow extends to the artistic “right” of a film-maker – inevitably a male one – to rape children with his camera by having children perform sexual scenes with or without adults before the camera.

Sick and twisted is your unreasoning claiming that Woody Allen gets a free pass to rape his daughter because he just so happens to make such cool films that you like. THAT is what’s sick and twisted.

Άρρωστοι είναι αυτοί που οτιδήποτε πραγματικά αληθινό δεν μπορούν να το αντέξουν.

Yes, there is that, and then there is the old wisdom which says: nothing drives a psychopath more crazy than someone calling him out for what he really is, a crazy psychopath. I went to court to defend this age-old wisdom. Maybe you get so riled up about someone referring to your unthinking and unreasoning regarding pedophilia as sick and twisted because you have enough of a mental faculty left to recognize it for what it is, indeed and undeniably profoundly sick and twisted?

The day you have the dick and balls to make a movie yourself that is so φυσιολογική, αληθινή, ανθρώπινη, θαρραλέα και πολιτική that you get to spend a few days in jail and a few years in the courts and are financially ruined as a result of expressing your deeply held beliefs and most inner thoughts in film, the day you are really willing to pay the price for persuing your supposed natural right to freedom of conscience and freedom expression for all it’s worth, that is the day I will stop calling you a poseur and wannabe. Are you willing to spend a few nights in jail for your rocknroll? Are you ready to be raped by the fascists in the public square for all to see? Do you have the matches ready when the exact same type of people who went after Galileo Galilei force you to set light the funeral pile with all your life’s work? Are you willing to live in the gutter for speaking my mind? Will you continue to do so after they’ve dragged your through the streets and let you know they are still not done with you? I have very high standards when it comes to transgressive poseurs like you claiming “artistic liberation”. I can tell you as a person who has been chained down, bound and gagged by fascists, you don’t know what the fuck you are talking about when the word liberation comes out of your mouth.

drs. Efthimia Dilpizoglou

The Six DOGS venue in Athens plays a central role in enabling the pedophilia apologetics of Alexander Voulgaris by hiring him to book lots of bands for a recurring multi-day music festival, presenting a veritable banquet of what the alternative music scene in Athens has to offer. I am sure a lot of the bands in Athens will appreciate the opportunity to perform, what with performance-spaces in Greece shutting down at an alarming rate. But this is also how you get everyone in the hipster cult to collude with your pedophilia advocacy: you book dozens and dozens of bands to play all at once, effectively making yourself into the one-stop-shop for anyone wanting to be in on the Athenian hipster cult, and thus everyone goes hush about your pedophilia advocacy because who would dare argue with or about someone who is the spider in the middle of the web, who knows and courts every band in Athens and can get them booked because he does the booking?

The following part of this blog entry is pure fiction, and no relation to existing people or events is implied.

πυτζάμα πάρτι @ E. Benaki Blvd

by drs. Efthimia Dilpizoglou (c) 2014 all rights reserved

You’re a government funded film maker, and that means you are definitely in it for the money[1]. So what happens is that you as a government funded artist invite all these other bands and their audiences to your house earning yourself the reputation of being this benefactor Svengali of the Greek alt music scene. People come out of the woodwork in droves to attend your living room festival because everyone knows that you’ve received government funding, and nothing attracts a crowd in depression-era Greece like the weak flicker of the government bling being poured over you in appreciation like a golden shower amidst the darkness of austerity budget cuts. So many bands and their audiences show up uninvited demanding you let them in, regretably you have to hire a bouncer for the first time in your life, having a very hard time finding one who isn’t a moonlighting Golden Dawner. While the festival commences you go around the party picking out all the hipster chicks you’d like to shoot S&M porno movies with. The most gamioles of them all, you slip them your businesscard with a wink and a smile. You can hear το Γρύλισμα, you’ve been hearing it all night, you whisper back: “I wish I could audition them right here, right now, that would be so neat, I know you would like that, I don’t even know the name of the band onstage right now but the soundtrack is perfect. I need to download this song from Bandcamp later.”. Το Γρύλισμα is eating chunks of your brain, anyone standing next to you can hear the smacking-sounds. All the while you’re hoping that the festival will degenerate into a giant orgy spilling out into the streets, which never happens because everyone still remembers the last riot police raid and everyone fears the riot police who are Golden Dawn members. Even more than the GawdDamned riot police they fear having to face their parents who have to put up with them still living at home and would happily see them tossed into a cell to get rid of them for a while. Το Γρύλισμα pulls out the drinking straw from an empty glass and is now sucking whatever is left of your brains out of your ears, people nearby turn over annoyed and give you angry stares because the slurping sounds are drowning out the band. You are giggling nervously at no one in particular imaginging what you must look like with a drinking straw sticking out of your ear, but a girl across the living room thinks you’re flirting with her and smiles, beaming proudly. You hadn’t noticed her before so you go over and hand her your businesscard. Another girl you handed your businesscard to earlier comes over and, like everyone else who takes the liberty of doing so lately, inquires about your dick. “Dick? What dick?!”. Το Γρύλισμα σου κατάπιε το dick ολόκληρo πριν από πολύ καιρό, long before anyone seemed to care. Once you sang,  “Spelling my name. I a-m s-a-d. I have a small cock.”, and no one knew how self-pitying that little white lie was. Small? Try none at all. Try living the rest of your life with the one who castrated you demanding every moment of your waking and sleeping hours. No one knew that the Boy was a eunuch and that his endless stream of porn on Facebook was but a lamentation for what was long lost. You patiently explain to this girl that you are not an actor, you are a screenwriter who just happens to shoot his own scripts because no one else will do it, but for the sake of her safety she will be working with an experienced sadist. You tell her you will be directing her yourself, but she is already disappointed and hands you back the businesscard. “99 monkeys on this island, that’s one less”, you tell yourself and shrug indifferently. “I am a professional pornographer competing on the free market for S&M movies, I sell an image and a fantasy, I am not renting space in my ass, I am definitely not dropping trou to show everyone Frank’s little carp. Only a pathetic amateur screws their own actresses, remember that if you wanna work in this industry. Who the fuck am I, Shine Louise Houston who casted half her lesbian harem in her Pink&White productions? Εχουμε και επίπεδο.”. Το Γρύλισμα thought your trout was fishbait that one fateful night you made the fatal mistake of dropping your pants when you should’ve kept them on, but you have never told anyone, not even your psychologist. You stick your hand in your pocket. Instead of feeling the tip of your dick you feel your Smartphone which you keep on you in case a girl gets really drunk and a group of your hipster friends take her upstairs and have their way with her like in that Annabel Chong movie you were studying earlier in the day, you know which one, το Γρύλισμα certainly knows which one, the one where she’s anally taken by a team of football players in the locker-room, one of them penetrating her at an angle that has surely irreparably destroyed her sphincter. (“Πώς στο διάολο τα ξέρεις αυτά;!”, “Don’t you know I am a hardcore anti-porn feminist with a civil stalking conviction? To say I am keeping track of the enemy is an understatement.”). You look at your Smartphone and see the following message: “Invite/RSVP-only Pedo πυτζάμα πάρτι @ Alex’s crib on E. Benaki Blvd follow the line stretching around the block lulz XD PS. A.C.A.B.!!!”. You feel so good, you feel like 90 000 bucks tonight. Everybody hollatcha BoyBoy, are we having fun or what people? Ας πεθάνουμε όλοι μαζί. Περισσότερα παιδιά θα σωθουν ετσι από βέβαιο βιασμό. Over the music you hear the wailing sirens getting louder. For a moment your phantom αρχίδια σφίγγουν. Το Γρύλισμα shrinks into a soaking wet sock in the back of your head where your brain is missing. If there was an orgy going on at your house the next scene might have been more like something out of Fritz the Cat, but since there isn’t you brace yourself for the raid.


[1] Appropriated from “Portrait of the artist as a worker” by Dieter Lesage. Unfortunately only his latest version of the text, “Portrait of the artist as a researcher” is available online:

το Γρύλισμα appears courtesy of ΜΟΥΣΙΚΟ ΚΙΝΗΜΑ: (ΜΑΥΡΕΣ) ΤΡΙΧΕΣ.

Another silly game of “she says, he says”…

She says: The mother coos appreciatively at the dog licking her face unaware of what the dog has just lapped up and is now smearing all over her mouth.
He says: Μια στις τόσες το μικρόφωνο πιάνει και τον σκύλο της που της γλύφει το πρόσωπο ζητώντας τα κρακεράκια του.

She says: I couldn’t stop crying for hours, I literally cried myself to sleep. The next morning I kept on crying (why? The guy is a total jerk who certainly doesn’t deserve any sincere emotional investment on my part, so why was I crying so hard?).
He says: Εγω παίζω κλάμα.

She says: nightmares, anorexia and acute suicidal tendencies
He says: Suicidal Tendencies – “Institutionalized”. το βιντεο και το τραγουδι των suicidal tendencies είναι οσο καλό κάτι μπορει να ειναι.

She says: he just thinks Eyes Wide Shut is uber-creepy and uber-hawt
He says: υπερεπος. είναι μια ουμπεραλλόκοτη κωμωδία

She says: the “nuclear detonation ballet” ending the film, the annihilation of human kind and the perverse banality of the act
He says: ένα εστιατόριο που βρίσκεται δίπλα σε ενα πυρηνικό εργοστάσιο την τελευταία μέρα πριν την καταστροφή.

She says: Is he deliberately maintaining a link to France through the individuals I have dubbed “the French connection” just in case he ends up like Polanski and likewise needs to seek refuge in a pedo-friendly country?
He says: Το French Connection ειναι η πρώτη ταινία που μας συστήνει έναν ήρωα καθίκι και διεφθαρμένο με τον τρόπο του.Που δείχνει ενα τελείως αμοραλιστικό αστικό τοπίο με αυτό τον τρόπο.

She says: Because in order to do so, you have to sincerely care about people other than yourself, sincerely care about what drives them and have sincere empathy for their predicament
He says: Ολοι οι ηθοποιοί έφτιαξαν μόνοι τους χαρακτήρες που υποδύονται.

She says: so let’s allow the invisible hand of the blogosphere work its magic on this here catastrophuck.
He says: δεν βγήκε ποτέ στα σινεμά ύστερα απο μια καταστροφική δοκιμαστική προβολή.

She says: The story told in the first song was intriguing enough to force me to listen to the obnoxious lyrics again
He says: πολύ λιγότεροι ξέρουν τους στίχους του

She says: Apparently all it takes to get government funding nowadays is to make a movie so unwatchable that no one bothers to see it, distribute it or program it.
He says: ήταν όσο κακός σκηνοθέτης πρέπει να είναι κάποιος για να κάνει αυτές τις ταινίες. Ελάχιστες τεχνικές γνώσεις,μπόλικη ανωριμότητα, πολύ πάθος και επι της ουσίας γνώση του ροκ εν ρολ.

She says: people like Sofia Georgovassili who is herself a pedophilia-apologist being flippant about Woody Allen sexually abusing a 7 year old child.
He says: Ζήτω τα κορίτσια του χιούμορ.

She says: all of these government-backed renting hipster nihilists being the tip of the spear that will drive out “social garbage” undesirables from inner city Athens.
He says: των παιδιών/που γεννηθήκαν και θα γεννιούνται/κάτω από τον αστερισμό των σκουπιδιών

She says: you know who else has been “dropping bombs on the Netherlands”
He says: να βομβαρδίζει η φοιτήτρια/μέσα στο μυαλό της/τον καπιταλισμό της

She says: get film-permits and rent property all over Exarchia, everything from apartments, to studios, to yards, to roads, rent equipment, rent people, rent children, just make sure you rent, rent and rent some more, and bring in estate specialists willing to manage it all. Your friendly Facebook real estate agent always does know such a place, and that is the beginning of a courtship between the culture industry and the real estate business that makes the conservative Greek government salivate.
He says: και κτίρια σε εκπτώσεις

She says: But the nightmares didn’t stop
He says: μικρή είχα δει / σε όνειρο εφιαλτικό

She says: the manical younger self, which nevertheless is always there in the back, screaming the same melody that the contained adult voice calmly conveys to the listener. I would say that anyone who is this indifferent to the reception of his work and anyone who is working so hard at fine-tuning his reclusiveness is literally and figuratively beyond the reach of my critique. He is happy in his world.
He says: πως ζούσα μ’ ένα άλλο παιδί / σε γυάλινο διαστημικό κλουβί

She says: Dit is de manier waarop je mij laat weten dat jij mijn stuk over jou hebt gevonden en gelezen. Ik heb je toch gezegd dat ik niet met je wil discuzeuren over mijn stuk? Ook niet op deze manier. Dit is niet om te lachen.
He says: … (Nothing because he doesn’t understand what that means.)
For those of you who don’t understand what the above sequence of quotations is about: The Boy has apparently discovered and read my expossay, and is now busy appropriating my words and distinct turns of phrase from the expossay and incorporating these into his own blog entries. I don’t know why he is doing this, I can only guess at what he is hinting by doing so, and I really don’t know how I feel about this. People have done this to me before, and it is generally because they want to address my arguments without acknowledging me directly as the source of those arguments, which of course is cowardice and disrespect towards another author. It’s like someone is arguing with me without actually really arguing with me (because I said I don’t want to argue), which is pathetic. I certainly never sent him the link to the expossay courting a reply – why on earth would send him the link to my critique since he says he doesn’t read criticism? – so I wonder how where he got it from. Is he Googling himself all day long to see what people write about him on the net? And there I was thinking he never reads criticism… well, well, yet more proof of what a liar this guy is. Voulgaris is only play-acting at being a nonchalant “I don’t give a fuck about my reputation” cult-hero hipster, when in reality he cares deeply about his public image and is keeping track of his media exposure on the net, even tracking down obscure blogs like mine. I will declare right now that I wrote my essay assuming he was telling the truth when he said he doesn’t read criticism, lest I self-censor, but since he is lurking at my blog I might as well be straight and direct. (The Youtube account which hosted all my music videos has magically disappeared from the net afew days ago,  so is this a declaration of war?)

Last week I discovered an interview with Voulgaris from last summer where he complains about his film career not being where he wants it to be, specifically complaining that his career is not self-sustaining:

Α. Βούλγαρης: «Το πρόβλημα με μένα είναι ότι, σε αντίθεση με την Αθηνά [= Αθηνά Ραχήλ Τσαγγάρη, the Greek-American maker of the art-house (IMNSHO s)hit «Attenberg»] , δεν έχω ακόμα ξεκαθαρίσει ότι το σινεμά είναι η ζωή μου. Γι’ αυτό και κινούμαι με ένα μείγμα δημιουργικότητας, αλλά και φόβου απέναντι σε κάτι μεγαλύτερο. Δηλαδή, δεν θα έμπαινα στη διαδικασία να κάνω μια πολύ ακριβή ταινία, χωρίς να ξέρω αν θα έχω χρήματα. Το “Higuita” από τη μια μεριά χαίρομαι που το έκανα μόνος μου και από την άλλη στενοχωριέμαι που δεν έχω καταφέρει, όπως η Αθηνά, να δημιουργήσω μια πιο υγιή κατάσταση στήριξης».


What you are reading here is an implicit admission on Voulgaris’ part, and that admission is: I want to make big movies that sell. Um, need I point out that advocating cinematic pedophilia does not sell when it comes to big movies? If you need any proof for this claim, look at what happened when Platinum Dunes decided to make Freddy Krueger into a pedophile for the Nightmare on Elmstreet reboot: the old Freddy Krueger fans were enraged that their favourite bad guy was made into a pedophile, rightly predicting that new audiences would never get interested in and certainly never get invested in the new Freddy Krueger the way audiences did when they first encountered him in the 1980s. I would say that lack of interest was at least partially because the new Freddy is a pedophile and audiences would much rather identify with a grotesque nightmare-bourne flaming monster serially-killing teenagers seemingly for no reason rather than with a back-from-the-grave child rapist with 3rd degree burn scars from having been lynched by the parents of the children he was molesting. The “free market” solution to pedophiles is to hunt them down and lynch them. That’s what audiences identify with, and that’s why Hard Candy was a surprise hit and the Elmstreet reboot tanked.

So Voulgaris mistakes my self-preserving sarcasm for humour… and I will say again that this kind of emotional autism on his part is exactly why he can’t write script with a plot: he doesn’t get people the same way he cannot get into a character. Yes, I use saracsm in my writing, mainly to protect myself, no, I am not joking when I do. Or does he think that the anorexia, the nausea, the suicidal tendencies, the bouts of weeping, the nightmares were all just a joke as well? The sexual exploitation of children is no laughing matter. The fact that Darryl Farrow waited all these decades before coming out with her abuse story only goes to show how extremely disturbing, degrading and psychologically scarring the experience was. The world I live in is so fascist that I am the only person stating that I don’t think there is anything amusing about Woody Allen raping his daughter at the age of 7 and I don’t give a fuck about Woody Allen’s films the moment he is exposed as a childrapist.

Voulgaris is implicitly responding to my criticism about his sci-fi movie Higuita tanking and him nevertheless receiving more government funding than he has ever received before by posting various examples of movies that were shelved upon release following negative audience and critical reception, and were only dug up and re-appreciated years later. (OK, so the guy is suffering from a really bad case of Van Gogh Syndrome, whatevah.) I don’t wanna hear any excuses about some punk movie director who was so lazy and/or exploitative, they came up with the supposedly novel solution of having the actors themselves develop their own characters, only to cover up the fact that the director was so punk rock he couldn’t develop a character to drive the story onwards. Any time a director hands over the task of character-development to their actors for them to figure out on their own you know you are dealing with an amateur film-maker who doesn’t understand the verb “interpret” in the noun “interpreter”. Seriously, boys and girls in film-school, do your remember the last time you saw a movie where the actors were co-authors, which is a euphemistic term for such bumbling incompetence, and the result was remotely watchable?

Sure, you can sit there playing “Join the Professionals” by The Looters from the Fabulous Stains movie all day long, mocking me for taking you at your word, but when you do interviews where you admit the likes of: “στενοχωριέμαι που δεν έχω καταφέρει να δημιουργήσω μια πιο υγιή κατάσταση στήριξης”. <– what you are admitting here is your own failure to be, yes, a professional film-maker by your own standards. When you come out and you say you wanna make Hollywood teen-flicks in English instead of Greek, you are saying: I wanna be a professional. When you come out and you say you wanna work with big Hollywood comedic actors, that’s you saying you want to work with professional actors, and you know the only way to do so is by being a pro yourself. When you declare Kubrick and Cronenberg to be your teachers, and you claim to be talking to them in your head every day much rather than communicating with the people around you, you are admitting that your aspirations are pro-level aspirations, not punk-level aspirations. So spare me the excuses already. You sit there praising criminal child porn saying you too want to make movies of children being raped with cameras. Would you really rather be doing that instead of doing what you truly want to do? I have seen what Voulgaris is capable of when I set out to analyze Ηλιοθεραπεία (am I saying here that I care? No, I no longer care, keep reading) and he destroyed that effort by making the main character into a pedophile and by coming out as a pedophilia apologist, which means I don’t even want to finish my analysis and I even quit listening to his music. He sets the bar so high, gets you to root for him, yet he aims so low, lower than freak-basement low. The pedophilia apologetics is one thing, this backpeddling from his true ambitions is I believe directly related to the pedophilia apologetics as a defensive posture: every time he is held accountable for what he really wants – and as I said in the essay, he has big plans for himself that (unlike other film-makers who have to struggle) are facilitated by the Greek government funding him simply because of his privileged familial situation – he self-sabotages by pulling out the pedo-pervert persona to hide behind, disavowing everything he aspired to before. A coward’s dirty little trick. “Disgusting” is the term my friend who has seen Voulgaris’ movie used to describe it, and indeed that is the only appropriate term for such an individual, as for all the people cheering him on and being hush about his pedophilia apologetics.