When I asked this morning the legal, previously released bootleg recording of Igor Stravinsky's rumoring Le Sacre Du Printemps from 1957 in Paris, led by Pierre Monteux played on my record player, I couldn't have a clue what would happen in a short time. Meanwhile, I was amazed at the heaviness of the piece, written for ballet, but above all the beauty of the performance and therefore took for granted the incessant crackling of the worn-out, second-hand bought long player. The piece, as I know by now, caused a huge riot in Paris at the premiere on 29 May 1913, in which Pierre Monteux was forced to leave the concert hall via the bathroom window, as he feared to be lynched. While most of the fuss in the room and later on was probably caused by the geography of Nijinski who, not mistakenly seems to me, with the music, wilder and rougher with his pounding ballet dancers in peasant costumes, was ever seen before by any Parisian, including the present Maurice Ravel who for Dirty Jew When he indicated that he couldn't hear the music properly because of all the tumult. So much for fine fleur of then Paris.
After putting on side two of the beautiful lp, I decided to continue listening via the headphones on the balcony, where the light began to become, and to see the nature of the courtyard, before the almost daily concert of circular saws that has been tyrannizing the garden for 24 years would begin. However, within minutes there would be a completely different ritual of spring. The sacrifice, here a slaughter, that took place, was it in the garden of the neighbors throwing a pigeon egg found at that time under my wicker chair on the balcony. A few years ago I allowed those same two responsible pigeons in a mood of misplaced goodness as a gesture of unconditional love developed by Buddhist sympathies, which resulted in me not being able to spend three beautiful spring and summer months on my balcony, while outside the corona. After that I was good enough to remove all pigeon poop, which unfortunately caused me a permanent problem with my lungs, while I was one of the few who was not infected with virus, which in my view was a desperate action of nature. An attempt by Mother Nature to call attention to and to make us aware of the naturecide we humans are so skilled in. It is the sacrifice or rather the slaughter of flora and fauna.
So not this time, and over the last few days I've been driving the two mutts off my balcony, but I also have to take some rest and sleep, even if it's only a few hours and that gave them the chance to drop their brood in the artificial grass under my chair. Say for yourself, there are already more than enough pigeons, if not too much even in a big city like that in which I try to spend my days. And the latter is not a sinner, rather an act of great suffering, worthy of redemption, given the developments here in the last ten or fifteen years. Our beloved and now saved civilian father from that time, it seemed a good plan to populate the old city districts with rich pariahs to help the naturally cultureless poor to keep the city economically running. The result is that my housing association, since its delivery in 1932, has sold a lot of money to money and property-driven types, who had to buy small houses with a rent of less than 500 euros, after a few years even half a million euros each. Good entrepreneurship, perhaps? Unfortunately that same housing association was placed under financial supervision last year ways financial malpractice. It won't help them that almost all balconies in the big housing block, after a renovation several years ago by an overpriced crooked contractor company since February
So not this time, and over the last few days I've been driving the two mutts off my balcony, but I also have to take some rest and sleep, even if it's only a few hours and that gave them the chance to drop their brood in the artificial grass under my chair. Say for yourself, there are already more than enough pigeons, if not too much even in a big city like that in which I try to spend my days. And the latter is not a sinner, rather an act of great suffering, worthy of redemption, given the developments here in the last ten or fifteen years. Our beloved and now saved civilian father from that time, it seemed a good plan to populate the old city districts with rich pariahs to help the naturally cultureless poor to keep the city economically running. The result is that my housing association, since its delivery in 1932, has sold a lot of money to money and property-driven types, who had to buy small houses with a rent of less than 500 euros, after a few years even half a million euros each. Good entrepreneurship, perhaps? Unfortunately that same housing association was placed under financial supervision last year ways financial malpractice. It won't help them that almost all balconies in the big housing block, after a renovation several years ago by an overpriced crooked contractor company since February When is the city council finally going to do some sensible things, such as develop a real vision to increase, at least, my living pleasure? Due to the narrowing of a parallel street near here, my, again and wrongly paved street is now the exit road from the city where all those rich stinkers with their far too big noisy car trailers use day and night. It is now impossible to listen to music under a volume of 30 decibels. When I walked home this week through the neighborhood I suddenly saw on a beaten proletarian mailbox a yellow sticker with the text _
