Saçma
Bir sabah olsa binbir umutla
Güneş bile açsa.............................açmaz , saçma
Bir gece olsa, samanyolu hatta
Yıldız bile kaysa....................kaymaz saçma
O son sözü duymak bile fazla inan
İyi niyet değil, şefkat değil, nerden bu dil
Kendine iyi bak deme , denmez saçma
Kendime bakarım elbet sen hiç korkma
Kendine kalıyor insan eninde sonunda
Sen bize iyi bak tanrım, sevdalı kullarına
Herşeyi alma, bir küçük eşya
Bırak bana yeter......................
Yetmez , saçma
Dön gel uzatma, hayat bu unutma
Zaman bile dursa.................durmaz, saçma
O son sözü doğru sanıp kanmam inan
İyi niyet değil, gerçek değil, kimden bu dil
Mete Özgencil
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Stars
I'm exhausted after a month of much work, much stress, the same old dilemma... But I knew. Check this out:
You are a flexible, mutable sign, so when the chips are down, you roll with the punches better than most signs, but that doesn't mean it's been easy. In the coming two years, your entire life will look different, with new friends, associates, and possibly a new position, home, or partner - or the whole kit and caboodle. It will be exciting, but change demands a great deal of adjustment, and that's been the hard part.
This month, the eclipses in Pisces and Virgo are back. They always come in pairs, two weeks apart, in the form of a full moon and new moon. The first will be a full moon lunar eclipse, on August 28 in Pisces. Next month, a solar new moon eclipse in Virgo will arrive on September 11.
...
As you get closer to the full moon lunar eclipse, August 28, however, life will turn a bit turbulent. If your birthday falls on or within five days of August 28, you will more likely be touched by events, either immediately or within the coming six months. However, it's possible you already felt the effects of this eclipse if you received sudden news about a relationship last month, near July 28, plus or minus five days.
Yes I do read Susan Miller's monthly horoscopes at the beginning of each month. They are so comprehensive. I believe in astrology. I categorize people according to their signs. I feel like there must be some truth in it, if not, how would it come about, how would it survive until today? There's something meaningful in ancient knowledge, tradition.
I think the future exists now, just like the past and the moment. In our religion classes our teacher Kemal Bey told us that God knows our destiny. I tried to reconcile that with free will, and I decided we do have free will, but God knows what we will choose anyway. The story is already there, we are just not there yet.
Just like the past is attached to the moment with strings, the future is, too. You might say, of course it is, now shapes the future. But it's not only 'now' that pulls the strings. Sometimes the future pulls the strings too. And then there's a sign, an impatient spark, short circuit. A sign to someone who can read it, or someone who thinks they can.
Maybe I'm making too much of it, as I usually do :)
I wish I had a sign, a small sign of where I'll be happy. Then I'd know where I'll end up at the end of the month.
I'm exhausted after a month of much work, much stress, the same old dilemma... But I knew. Check this out:
You are a flexible, mutable sign, so when the chips are down, you roll with the punches better than most signs, but that doesn't mean it's been easy. In the coming two years, your entire life will look different, with new friends, associates, and possibly a new position, home, or partner - or the whole kit and caboodle. It will be exciting, but change demands a great deal of adjustment, and that's been the hard part.
This month, the eclipses in Pisces and Virgo are back. They always come in pairs, two weeks apart, in the form of a full moon and new moon. The first will be a full moon lunar eclipse, on August 28 in Pisces. Next month, a solar new moon eclipse in Virgo will arrive on September 11.
...
As you get closer to the full moon lunar eclipse, August 28, however, life will turn a bit turbulent. If your birthday falls on or within five days of August 28, you will more likely be touched by events, either immediately or within the coming six months. However, it's possible you already felt the effects of this eclipse if you received sudden news about a relationship last month, near July 28, plus or minus five days.
Yes I do read Susan Miller's monthly horoscopes at the beginning of each month. They are so comprehensive. I believe in astrology. I categorize people according to their signs. I feel like there must be some truth in it, if not, how would it come about, how would it survive until today? There's something meaningful in ancient knowledge, tradition.
I think the future exists now, just like the past and the moment. In our religion classes our teacher Kemal Bey told us that God knows our destiny. I tried to reconcile that with free will, and I decided we do have free will, but God knows what we will choose anyway. The story is already there, we are just not there yet.
Just like the past is attached to the moment with strings, the future is, too. You might say, of course it is, now shapes the future. But it's not only 'now' that pulls the strings. Sometimes the future pulls the strings too. And then there's a sign, an impatient spark, short circuit. A sign to someone who can read it, or someone who thinks they can.
Maybe I'm making too much of it, as I usually do :)
I wish I had a sign, a small sign of where I'll be happy. Then I'd know where I'll end up at the end of the month.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
disclaimer:: this entry includes nothing exciting at all... another diary entry from my daily life. something I promised I would never do at the beginning.
My trip home...
Today as I was about to pack my laptop I realized I don't have my laptop case. I looked for it in the room but couldn't find it. Then I remembered that I left it in the common room on Saturday and didn't realize I left it there until I needed it this morning. Something like this happened last year - I dropped my bracelet in a restaurant and the owner gave it to me the next week before I even realized I had dropped it. The problem is not the laptop case per se, but a rush of panic set in when I remembered the possibility that my passport and Ipod might be in it. I only use it when I travel, and I don't really unpack it until the next time I travel. Luckily I had taken everything out before I went down to the common room, so it's only the laptop case with some business cards that went missing! It reminded me of the little curses people dropped in the hot springs in Bath. I wish I could write one for my laptop case!
Then I made the mistake of taking the bus to Victoria! The bus literally went through the whole city and took a good 50 minutes. (Although Bond Street was quite pleasant.) You hate all the people that don't have a plane to catch. Everytime somebody hits stop you sink deeper into despair. I noticed it's usually elderly people who take the bus in the middle of the day.
I was in Victoria at 1 for my flight at 2:15. To cut the long story short, I got to Gatwick at 1:45 and barely made it thanks to the 10 min delay and helpful BA people. (Wow I never thought I would compliment BA for something... but the flight today was so smooth, too... Maashallah :)
Now my journals are done (although I never saw them printed, hope everything worked out well) and now is the time for the dissertation... Finally... I don't think I'll be able to write much in the blog for the next ten days. August has been stressful so far, I usually felt like that dream I had a couple of nights ago, where I lose control of the car I'm driving... but now I'm really happy to be home.
My trip home...
Today as I was about to pack my laptop I realized I don't have my laptop case. I looked for it in the room but couldn't find it. Then I remembered that I left it in the common room on Saturday and didn't realize I left it there until I needed it this morning. Something like this happened last year - I dropped my bracelet in a restaurant and the owner gave it to me the next week before I even realized I had dropped it. The problem is not the laptop case per se, but a rush of panic set in when I remembered the possibility that my passport and Ipod might be in it. I only use it when I travel, and I don't really unpack it until the next time I travel. Luckily I had taken everything out before I went down to the common room, so it's only the laptop case with some business cards that went missing! It reminded me of the little curses people dropped in the hot springs in Bath. I wish I could write one for my laptop case!
Then I made the mistake of taking the bus to Victoria! The bus literally went through the whole city and took a good 50 minutes. (Although Bond Street was quite pleasant.) You hate all the people that don't have a plane to catch. Everytime somebody hits stop you sink deeper into despair. I noticed it's usually elderly people who take the bus in the middle of the day.
I was in Victoria at 1 for my flight at 2:15. To cut the long story short, I got to Gatwick at 1:45 and barely made it thanks to the 10 min delay and helpful BA people. (Wow I never thought I would compliment BA for something... but the flight today was so smooth, too... Maashallah :)
Now my journals are done (although I never saw them printed, hope everything worked out well) and now is the time for the dissertation... Finally... I don't think I'll be able to write much in the blog for the next ten days. August has been stressful so far, I usually felt like that dream I had a couple of nights ago, where I lose control of the car I'm driving... but now I'm really happy to be home.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Hafıza
“Hafıza,” diye yazmıştı bir köşe yazısında Celal, “bir bahçedir.” sf. 11.
“Uykunun huzuruna gömülmüş Rüya’nın kapıları kapalı bahçesinin söğütleri, akasyaları, asmalı gülleri ve güneşi altında gezinmek isterdi şimdi. Orada karşılaşacağı suratlardan utançla korkarak: Sen de mi buradaydın, merhaba! Bilip bekledigi tatsız anılar kadar, beklemediği erkek gölgelerini de merak ve acıyla görerek: Afedersiniz kardeşim, siz karımla nerede rastlaşmış ya da tanışmıştınız?” sf. 11
“Hayalinde kendisini arayan Rüya’nın yerine kendini koymuştu ki, yokluğunun acılarını Rüya nasıl hissediyor daha iyi anlayabilsin!.. Çok sonra, çocukluğun sonsuzluğu kadar uzun süren bir bekleyişten sonra, Galip, sabırsızlıkla ve asıl kendisinin sabırsızlığa yenildiğini düşünmeden birden dolabın üstünden inip gözlerini soluk lambaların ışığına alıştırıp, bu sefer kendisi, apartmanda Rüya’yı aramaya başlamıştı.
...
Kaçırdığı hayat parçacığı neredeydi?
...
“Beyoğlu’nda bir muhallebiciye oturmuştum; sırf kalabalık içersinde olmak için; ama cumartesi akşamının o sonsuzluk saatini doldurmaya çalışan benim gibi biriyle gözgöze gelirim diye kimseye de bakmıyordum: Benim gibi olanlar, birbirlerini hemen tanır ve küçümserler çünkü.” sf. 138.
“Gözlerini kısıp uzaktaki bir noktaya bakarken başka bir yere gittiğini, başka bir şey düşündüğünü anlayınca seni endişeyle severdim. Aklının içindekilerin bildiğim kadarını ve daha çok da bilmediğim kadarını korkuyla korkuyla severdim, Allahım!” sf. 145.
“Kimselere gözükmeden gizlice gittiğim randevuevlerinde, orospular öylelerine daha iyi davranıyorlar diye, yakın geçmişte başımdan korkunç ve umutsuz bir aşk macerası geçmiş bir umutsuz gibi yaptığımı hatırladım.” sf. 181.
“Sessizlerin, anlatmayı bilmeyenlerin, kendini dinletemeyenlerin, önemli gözükmeyenlerin, dilsizlerin, o iyi cevabı hep olaydan sonra evde düşünenlerin, insanların hikayelerini merak etmediği o kişilerin yüzleri diğerlerinden daha anlamlı, daha dolu değil mi? Sanki anlatamadıkları hikayelerin harfleriyle kaynaşıyor bu yüzler, sanki sessizliğin, ezikliğin, hatta yenilginin işaretleri var onlarda.” sf. 263.
“Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni kahramansız bir dünyaya neden inandığıma. Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni o kahramanları uyduran zavallı yazarların neden kahraman olmadıklarına. Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni o dergilerde resimleri çıkanların bizden başka bir soydan olduğuna. Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni sıradan bir hayata razı olman gerektiğine. Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni, o sıradan hayatta benim de bir yerim olması gerektiğine.” sf. 326.
“Bunlar, eli sıkı, hesaplı kişilerdi; ne içerken dünyayı unutabilirlerdi, ne de sevişirken; her şeyi bir düzene sokma saplantıları onları başarısız bir dost ve basarısız bir aşık yapardı yalnızca.” sf. 383.
“Fotoğrafının çekildiğini bilmeyen on beş yaşındaki Rüya, yanında bir kase leblebi, üzerinde basmadan kolsuz bir elbise, açık pencereden üzerine güneş vuran bir gazeteye eğilmiş, yüzünde Galip’e her zaman dışarıda bırakıldığını korkuyla sezdiren bir ifadeyle, bir yandan saçlarını çekiştiriyor, bir yandan da silgisini ısırdığı kalemle bilmece çözüyor.” sf. 389.
“Şehzade Osman Celalettin Efendi, düşüncelerinin ve kendi iradesinin saflığını bozan anılarıyla boğuşmak için kasrındaki bütün koku kaynaklarını kurutmuş, tanıdığı bütün eşyaları ve elbiseleri yok etmiş, müzik denen uyuşturucu sanatla ve hiç çalmadığı beyaz piyanosuyla ilişkisini kesmiş ve kasrının bütün odalarını beyaza boyatmıştı.” sf. 411.
“’Şehzade Osman Celalettin Efendi, ona aşık olamayacağına inandığı için korkusuzca Leyla Hanım’a yüreğini açabilmişti...’ ... ‘Ama korkusuzca ona yüreğimi açabildiğim tek kadın olduğu için de hemen ona aşık oldum.
...
Leyla Hanım’ın ölümünden sonra, üzüldüğünü ve özgürleştiğini yazdırmıştı Şehzade.” sf. 415.
“Otelden çıkıp bindiği takside şoför bir hikaye anlatmaya başladı. İnsanın ancak hikaye anlatarak kendisi olabileceğini anladığı için Galip şoförün anlattıklarını hoşgörüyle dinliyordu.” sf. 420.
Kara Kitap
“Hafıza,” diye yazmıştı bir köşe yazısında Celal, “bir bahçedir.” sf. 11.
“Uykunun huzuruna gömülmüş Rüya’nın kapıları kapalı bahçesinin söğütleri, akasyaları, asmalı gülleri ve güneşi altında gezinmek isterdi şimdi. Orada karşılaşacağı suratlardan utançla korkarak: Sen de mi buradaydın, merhaba! Bilip bekledigi tatsız anılar kadar, beklemediği erkek gölgelerini de merak ve acıyla görerek: Afedersiniz kardeşim, siz karımla nerede rastlaşmış ya da tanışmıştınız?” sf. 11
“Hayalinde kendisini arayan Rüya’nın yerine kendini koymuştu ki, yokluğunun acılarını Rüya nasıl hissediyor daha iyi anlayabilsin!.. Çok sonra, çocukluğun sonsuzluğu kadar uzun süren bir bekleyişten sonra, Galip, sabırsızlıkla ve asıl kendisinin sabırsızlığa yenildiğini düşünmeden birden dolabın üstünden inip gözlerini soluk lambaların ışığına alıştırıp, bu sefer kendisi, apartmanda Rüya’yı aramaya başlamıştı.
...
Kaçırdığı hayat parçacığı neredeydi?
...
“Beyoğlu’nda bir muhallebiciye oturmuştum; sırf kalabalık içersinde olmak için; ama cumartesi akşamının o sonsuzluk saatini doldurmaya çalışan benim gibi biriyle gözgöze gelirim diye kimseye de bakmıyordum: Benim gibi olanlar, birbirlerini hemen tanır ve küçümserler çünkü.” sf. 138.
“Gözlerini kısıp uzaktaki bir noktaya bakarken başka bir yere gittiğini, başka bir şey düşündüğünü anlayınca seni endişeyle severdim. Aklının içindekilerin bildiğim kadarını ve daha çok da bilmediğim kadarını korkuyla korkuyla severdim, Allahım!” sf. 145.
“Kimselere gözükmeden gizlice gittiğim randevuevlerinde, orospular öylelerine daha iyi davranıyorlar diye, yakın geçmişte başımdan korkunç ve umutsuz bir aşk macerası geçmiş bir umutsuz gibi yaptığımı hatırladım.” sf. 181.
“Sessizlerin, anlatmayı bilmeyenlerin, kendini dinletemeyenlerin, önemli gözükmeyenlerin, dilsizlerin, o iyi cevabı hep olaydan sonra evde düşünenlerin, insanların hikayelerini merak etmediği o kişilerin yüzleri diğerlerinden daha anlamlı, daha dolu değil mi? Sanki anlatamadıkları hikayelerin harfleriyle kaynaşıyor bu yüzler, sanki sessizliğin, ezikliğin, hatta yenilginin işaretleri var onlarda.” sf. 263.
“Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni kahramansız bir dünyaya neden inandığıma. Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni o kahramanları uyduran zavallı yazarların neden kahraman olmadıklarına. Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni o dergilerde resimleri çıkanların bizden başka bir soydan olduğuna. Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni sıradan bir hayata razı olman gerektiğine. Hiçbir zaman inandıramadım seni, o sıradan hayatta benim de bir yerim olması gerektiğine.” sf. 326.
“Bunlar, eli sıkı, hesaplı kişilerdi; ne içerken dünyayı unutabilirlerdi, ne de sevişirken; her şeyi bir düzene sokma saplantıları onları başarısız bir dost ve basarısız bir aşık yapardı yalnızca.” sf. 383.
“Fotoğrafının çekildiğini bilmeyen on beş yaşındaki Rüya, yanında bir kase leblebi, üzerinde basmadan kolsuz bir elbise, açık pencereden üzerine güneş vuran bir gazeteye eğilmiş, yüzünde Galip’e her zaman dışarıda bırakıldığını korkuyla sezdiren bir ifadeyle, bir yandan saçlarını çekiştiriyor, bir yandan da silgisini ısırdığı kalemle bilmece çözüyor.” sf. 389.
“Şehzade Osman Celalettin Efendi, düşüncelerinin ve kendi iradesinin saflığını bozan anılarıyla boğuşmak için kasrındaki bütün koku kaynaklarını kurutmuş, tanıdığı bütün eşyaları ve elbiseleri yok etmiş, müzik denen uyuşturucu sanatla ve hiç çalmadığı beyaz piyanosuyla ilişkisini kesmiş ve kasrının bütün odalarını beyaza boyatmıştı.” sf. 411.
“’Şehzade Osman Celalettin Efendi, ona aşık olamayacağına inandığı için korkusuzca Leyla Hanım’a yüreğini açabilmişti...’ ... ‘Ama korkusuzca ona yüreğimi açabildiğim tek kadın olduğu için de hemen ona aşık oldum.
...
Leyla Hanım’ın ölümünden sonra, üzüldüğünü ve özgürleştiğini yazdırmıştı Şehzade.” sf. 415.
“Otelden çıkıp bindiği takside şoför bir hikaye anlatmaya başladı. İnsanın ancak hikaye anlatarak kendisi olabileceğini anladığı için Galip şoförün anlattıklarını hoşgörüyle dinliyordu.” sf. 420.
Kara Kitap
Saturday, August 11, 2007
wake-up call:
They pay you for your opinion
Something really weird happened. Because there was still 9 minutes to the train at Oxford Circus (and the air inside the station was unbearable) I walked up the stairs and back onto the street. I was still kind of tipsy from the few drinks I had. Then I walked several stops towards Tottenham Court Road, and got onto the bus. Two really sleazy-looking, glassy-eyed older guys sat next to me and started talking. When they found out that I went to the LSE, they started asking me the kind of questions about the world economy that often my parents ask, questions they already know the answers to, they are just quizzing you. It reminded me of an internship interview where I stunned my interviewer with my deep ignorance. I mumbled about the credit troubles and mortgage crisis, found out that they are in "property business" and they "trade for themselves." Just making small talk, I mentioned the high housing prices, and they asked me how long I think high prices were going to last. I said I had no idea. At that point they had made up their mind that I'm pretty darn stupid. They gave me this small horrible lecture about how higher interest rates curb inflation and how Mervyn King is about to raise the rates (fittingly the bus was just passing by Bank.) Bernanke, on the other hand, is apparently not so keen on raising them because he's worried about slowing growth in the US. Earlier, at about St. Paul's, they had asked me what I wanted to do and I said I wanted to be a journalist.
They told me that at any kind of job people will pay me for my opinion and I should have my own opinion. That made me question what the point of my $160,000+GBP 20,000=5 years-education was. I felt like I'm genuinely wasting away, defying the whole purpose of all that I've done so far. And I have this expectation that whatever I do, it should be more than enough. In fact, what I do is far below par. I'm really just a lucky spoiled girl who always had it too easy, and expects it to continue being like that. I don't understand that I should bring something worthwhile to the table, and people have no obligation to listen to me, care about me or respect me if I don't.
Only today I called up this venture capitalist who funds clean tech companies and he was so passionate and confident about his work. I don't want to be the person who calls up people all the time. I want to be someone people call up. And I need to have my own opinion and brains for that.
They pay you for your opinion
Something really weird happened. Because there was still 9 minutes to the train at Oxford Circus (and the air inside the station was unbearable) I walked up the stairs and back onto the street. I was still kind of tipsy from the few drinks I had. Then I walked several stops towards Tottenham Court Road, and got onto the bus. Two really sleazy-looking, glassy-eyed older guys sat next to me and started talking. When they found out that I went to the LSE, they started asking me the kind of questions about the world economy that often my parents ask, questions they already know the answers to, they are just quizzing you. It reminded me of an internship interview where I stunned my interviewer with my deep ignorance. I mumbled about the credit troubles and mortgage crisis, found out that they are in "property business" and they "trade for themselves." Just making small talk, I mentioned the high housing prices, and they asked me how long I think high prices were going to last. I said I had no idea. At that point they had made up their mind that I'm pretty darn stupid. They gave me this small horrible lecture about how higher interest rates curb inflation and how Mervyn King is about to raise the rates (fittingly the bus was just passing by Bank.) Bernanke, on the other hand, is apparently not so keen on raising them because he's worried about slowing growth in the US. Earlier, at about St. Paul's, they had asked me what I wanted to do and I said I wanted to be a journalist.
They told me that at any kind of job people will pay me for my opinion and I should have my own opinion. That made me question what the point of my $160,000+GBP 20,000=5 years-education was. I felt like I'm genuinely wasting away, defying the whole purpose of all that I've done so far. And I have this expectation that whatever I do, it should be more than enough. In fact, what I do is far below par. I'm really just a lucky spoiled girl who always had it too easy, and expects it to continue being like that. I don't understand that I should bring something worthwhile to the table, and people have no obligation to listen to me, care about me or respect me if I don't.
Only today I called up this venture capitalist who funds clean tech companies and he was so passionate and confident about his work. I don't want to be the person who calls up people all the time. I want to be someone people call up. And I need to have my own opinion and brains for that.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Céline: So often in my life I've been with people, and shared beautiful moments like traveling, or staying up all night and watching the sunrise, and I knew those were special moments. But something was always wrong. I wished I'd been with someone else. (They both laugh) I knew that what I was feeling, exactly what was so important to me, they didn't understand. But I'm happy to be with you. You couldn't possibly know why a night like this is so important to my life right now, but it is. This is a great morning.
Jesse: It is a great morning. Do you think we'd have others like this. (Céline smiles) What?
Céline: What about our rational, adult decision?
Jesse: Oh, yeah. Yeah. I know what you mean about wishing somebody wasn't there, though. It's just usually it's myself that I wish I could get away from. Seriously, think about this. I have never been anywhere that I haven't been. I've never had a kiss when I wasn't one of the kissers. You know, I've never, um, gone to the movies, when I wasn't there in the audience. I've never been out bowling, if I wasn't there, you know making some stupid joke. I think that's why so many people hate themselves. Seriously, it's just they are sick to death of being around themselves. Let's say that you and I were together all the time, then you'd start to hate a lot of my mannerisms. The way, uh, the way every time we would have people over, uh, I'd be insecure, and I'd get a little too drunk. Or, uh, the way I'd tell the same stupid pseudo-intellectual story again, and again. You see, I've heard all those stories. So of course I'm sick of myself. But being with you, uh, it had made me feel like I'm somebody else. You know the only other way to lose yourself like that is, um, you know, dancing, or alcohol, or drugs, and stuff like that.
Before Sunrise
***
I'm so bored of myself. I'm so bored of hearing myself talk about the same things and think about the same things. I'm bored of promising myself I won't be late to work and being late again. I'm bored of people joking about it. I'm bored of promising myself that I'll read that many pages and never read them. I'm really, really, really bored of my blog-writing self.
Jesse: It is a great morning. Do you think we'd have others like this. (Céline smiles) What?
Céline: What about our rational, adult decision?
Jesse: Oh, yeah. Yeah. I know what you mean about wishing somebody wasn't there, though. It's just usually it's myself that I wish I could get away from. Seriously, think about this. I have never been anywhere that I haven't been. I've never had a kiss when I wasn't one of the kissers. You know, I've never, um, gone to the movies, when I wasn't there in the audience. I've never been out bowling, if I wasn't there, you know making some stupid joke. I think that's why so many people hate themselves. Seriously, it's just they are sick to death of being around themselves. Let's say that you and I were together all the time, then you'd start to hate a lot of my mannerisms. The way, uh, the way every time we would have people over, uh, I'd be insecure, and I'd get a little too drunk. Or, uh, the way I'd tell the same stupid pseudo-intellectual story again, and again. You see, I've heard all those stories. So of course I'm sick of myself. But being with you, uh, it had made me feel like I'm somebody else. You know the only other way to lose yourself like that is, um, you know, dancing, or alcohol, or drugs, and stuff like that.
Before Sunrise
***
I'm so bored of myself. I'm so bored of hearing myself talk about the same things and think about the same things. I'm bored of promising myself I won't be late to work and being late again. I'm bored of people joking about it. I'm bored of promising myself that I'll read that many pages and never read them. I'm really, really, really bored of my blog-writing self.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
"Dear, damned, distracting town."
-Alexander Pope on London
Global Cities
It was only fitting to go to the Global Cities exhibition at Tate Modern after having talked about being ordinary in London. Crowds by Eva Koch captured exactly what I was trying to explain.
The exhibition was really inspiring. It gave a good glimpse into the life in far away cities, and showed that the problems are very similar across the board. (I thought it was a good glimpse because the videos of Istanbul really felt like home.) Cities guarantee exciting lives. Large numbers of people lead to multiplied possibilities: Possibilities for all kinds of jobs, different people, art events, festivals, clubs, restaurants, neighborhoods. The freedom brought by anonymity. Big cities continue to attract people like magnets.
But the diversity and size that makes cities so exciting is also what makes them overwhelming and dangerous. As new people from different socio-economic backgrounds come to the city, they struggle to survive. Some of them have no choice but to live in slums, creating circles of poverty around the city. Some of them are pushed inwards because the well-off want to live in their own segregated paradise in the suburbs. Public transportation and sewage systems are pushed to their limits, and there is no open space to get away from the hustle and bustle. As inequalities rise, some neighborhoods become no-go crime zones. Middle class tries to protect themselves by bullet-proof cars, picket fences and alarm systems. Surviving in the city is an occupation and challenge in itself, taking much energy. But it also seems like the best thing anyone can do with one's time in this world.
I see this as an example of how individual rational choice does not lead to socially optimal outcomes. The individual choices add up to something diverse and exciting, a spontaneity and variety that couldn't be planned by any central planner, but also to something ugly and overwhelming. The city as an organism may seem very exciting and inspiring. But each individual in it, while contributing to it and enjoying it, also suffers from being a teeny weeny particle in this mighty organism. A cell in the blood circulating through the streets. The organism doesn't really care about you, you have to go by its rules to survive. Each city comes with its own terms and conditions that limit its constituents' freedom. But again, it's the price we all pay for constant stimulation.
-Alexander Pope on London
Global Cities
It was only fitting to go to the Global Cities exhibition at Tate Modern after having talked about being ordinary in London. Crowds by Eva Koch captured exactly what I was trying to explain.
The exhibition was really inspiring. It gave a good glimpse into the life in far away cities, and showed that the problems are very similar across the board. (I thought it was a good glimpse because the videos of Istanbul really felt like home.) Cities guarantee exciting lives. Large numbers of people lead to multiplied possibilities: Possibilities for all kinds of jobs, different people, art events, festivals, clubs, restaurants, neighborhoods. The freedom brought by anonymity. Big cities continue to attract people like magnets.
But the diversity and size that makes cities so exciting is also what makes them overwhelming and dangerous. As new people from different socio-economic backgrounds come to the city, they struggle to survive. Some of them have no choice but to live in slums, creating circles of poverty around the city. Some of them are pushed inwards because the well-off want to live in their own segregated paradise in the suburbs. Public transportation and sewage systems are pushed to their limits, and there is no open space to get away from the hustle and bustle. As inequalities rise, some neighborhoods become no-go crime zones. Middle class tries to protect themselves by bullet-proof cars, picket fences and alarm systems. Surviving in the city is an occupation and challenge in itself, taking much energy. But it also seems like the best thing anyone can do with one's time in this world.
I see this as an example of how individual rational choice does not lead to socially optimal outcomes. The individual choices add up to something diverse and exciting, a spontaneity and variety that couldn't be planned by any central planner, but also to something ugly and overwhelming. The city as an organism may seem very exciting and inspiring. But each individual in it, while contributing to it and enjoying it, also suffers from being a teeny weeny particle in this mighty organism. A cell in the blood circulating through the streets. The organism doesn't really care about you, you have to go by its rules to survive. Each city comes with its own terms and conditions that limit its constituents' freedom. But again, it's the price we all pay for constant stimulation.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Weakness and Meanness
Why are we meanest to the people who clearly love us, who are the most vulnerable in front of us? Why are we impatient, tactless, thoughtless with the ones that care the most for us, do the most for us? I frown at my family like I can to no other. I say whatever to my closest friends. Because I know they will stay. I'm horrible to guys who make the mistake of liking me. Because I know I've already won them. There is nothing to be won anymore. They are not interesting anymore. There is no challenge.
I'm strong against someone because I don't care. Somebody else is strong against me because they don't care. They will just read what I write for them and they will find it cheesy, pathetic. I will read what the others write for me and I will find it cheesy, pathetic.
Even now, writing this, I know I'm being weak and uninteresting and unmysterious. But the unfairness in this actually breaks my heart, that's why I'm writing it. The only way to win the admiration of people is to stay independent of their influence, out of their reach. Loving someone is not enough reason to be loved back. Being strong and independent is what makes people admirable.
Why are we meanest to the people who clearly love us, who are the most vulnerable in front of us? Why are we impatient, tactless, thoughtless with the ones that care the most for us, do the most for us? I frown at my family like I can to no other. I say whatever to my closest friends. Because I know they will stay. I'm horrible to guys who make the mistake of liking me. Because I know I've already won them. There is nothing to be won anymore. They are not interesting anymore. There is no challenge.
I'm strong against someone because I don't care. Somebody else is strong against me because they don't care. They will just read what I write for them and they will find it cheesy, pathetic. I will read what the others write for me and I will find it cheesy, pathetic.
Even now, writing this, I know I'm being weak and uninteresting and unmysterious. But the unfairness in this actually breaks my heart, that's why I'm writing it. The only way to win the admiration of people is to stay independent of their influence, out of their reach. Loving someone is not enough reason to be loved back. Being strong and independent is what makes people admirable.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
My application essay to Georgetown and other places. I wrote it five years ago, and it still rings true. Here you go:
application essay
I run away from regrets. To run away from regrets, I must confront my fears and laziness and longing for security. That lag is what shapes my life and decisions.
I adore beauty. Beautiful songs, places, people, sights, smells, food, books. I'm trying to expand myself: To hear more of good music, read more of good books, meet more of good people. I travel to cities like Istanbul, Rome, Milan, London, Berlin, Bremen and Prague. According to me, all of these cities, including my hometown, Izmir, are like stages, which host many stories and people. All the actors and actresses leave their signs on the streets, bridges, buildings, leave their scent in the air. I read books as good as Jitterbug Perfume, 1984 and My Name Is Red. I like those unique books and their authors who look at the world from a different point of view than everyone else. I see movies as good as the Fight Club, the Matrix, American Beauty and Moulin Rouge. I am astonished by all the big and interesting inventions and discoveries made by determined people. I know people who are intelligent but who still remain down-to-earth. My parents are such people and I learn so much from them!
However, I’m never completely happy and peaceful. As I look at all the beautiful things, I get jealous. When I read a good sentence from a book, when I see a good illustration in a painting, when I hear a good song, my admiration and joy mixes with annoyance. How happy I would get if I was a beautiful person and if I created beautiful things!
I see myself a part of a big picture. I’m curious, I want to rise on my toes to see and understand more. Only when I understand more of this world, I will be able to create meaningful things. I know that I have to open eyes, observe and understand; I have to live, work, read, see, sacrifice and collect information. I know that I have to MAKE myself more beautiful to make the picture more beautiful. The easiest thing I can change and develop in this picture is myself.
My way of expressing myself has been writing up to now. It's like collecting a lot of things in you and reorganizing them in an original way. I want to produce a lot and affect a lot of people. I love to write essays on subjects I “understand”, and therefore have something to say about.
I’m sometimes bored of my every day life. Through all my responsibilities, I hardly see the beauty. I want amazing surprises to happen suddenly. Though, when opportunities do come, I can’t find the courage in myself to decide right away. I want to avoid risks.
Even right now, I’m running away from regrets. I’m working hard on an essay. I know I won’t be able to live a satisfactory life if I don’t try hard enough to reach my goals. I will have to bare regrets if I don’t live a full life. I know I have to take away so much from the world and give so much in return. I remember a saying by Lord Tennyson, a famous English poet, and repeat it to myself with a smile: So many worlds, so much to do; so little done, such things to be!
application essay
I run away from regrets. To run away from regrets, I must confront my fears and laziness and longing for security. That lag is what shapes my life and decisions.
I adore beauty. Beautiful songs, places, people, sights, smells, food, books. I'm trying to expand myself: To hear more of good music, read more of good books, meet more of good people. I travel to cities like Istanbul, Rome, Milan, London, Berlin, Bremen and Prague. According to me, all of these cities, including my hometown, Izmir, are like stages, which host many stories and people. All the actors and actresses leave their signs on the streets, bridges, buildings, leave their scent in the air. I read books as good as Jitterbug Perfume, 1984 and My Name Is Red. I like those unique books and their authors who look at the world from a different point of view than everyone else. I see movies as good as the Fight Club, the Matrix, American Beauty and Moulin Rouge. I am astonished by all the big and interesting inventions and discoveries made by determined people. I know people who are intelligent but who still remain down-to-earth. My parents are such people and I learn so much from them!
However, I’m never completely happy and peaceful. As I look at all the beautiful things, I get jealous. When I read a good sentence from a book, when I see a good illustration in a painting, when I hear a good song, my admiration and joy mixes with annoyance. How happy I would get if I was a beautiful person and if I created beautiful things!
I see myself a part of a big picture. I’m curious, I want to rise on my toes to see and understand more. Only when I understand more of this world, I will be able to create meaningful things. I know that I have to open eyes, observe and understand; I have to live, work, read, see, sacrifice and collect information. I know that I have to MAKE myself more beautiful to make the picture more beautiful. The easiest thing I can change and develop in this picture is myself.
My way of expressing myself has been writing up to now. It's like collecting a lot of things in you and reorganizing them in an original way. I want to produce a lot and affect a lot of people. I love to write essays on subjects I “understand”, and therefore have something to say about.
I’m sometimes bored of my every day life. Through all my responsibilities, I hardly see the beauty. I want amazing surprises to happen suddenly. Though, when opportunities do come, I can’t find the courage in myself to decide right away. I want to avoid risks.
Even right now, I’m running away from regrets. I’m working hard on an essay. I know I won’t be able to live a satisfactory life if I don’t try hard enough to reach my goals. I will have to bare regrets if I don’t live a full life. I know I have to take away so much from the world and give so much in return. I remember a saying by Lord Tennyson, a famous English poet, and repeat it to myself with a smile: So many worlds, so much to do; so little done, such things to be!
Friday, July 27, 2007
looking out of the bus window
you see a lot of people walking fast. fat people. good-looking people. well-dressed bankers. lawyers. people with thinning hair and receding hairlines. blonde frizzy hair, burnt from too much intervention. huge afros. red beautiful hair that moves as one mass. tired people. people walking fast, ignited with an unexplainable source of motivation. people waiting for the bus. crazy guy with horribly long rasta hair. two japanese men passed out from the gentle massage at the hair dresser. people talking on the phone with a smile on their faces. couples kissing. really handsome guys with perfect hair. middle aged fit women with a really rough mask on their faces, like they've been out in the cold for too long. old, tired men in trenchcoats with sleepy eyes. women in suits, tights and sneakers. small fat women. women checking themselves out on shop windows. sometimes I just pick one person and look at them hard. sometimes they have a smile for no apparent reason. interesting thing watching people when they are not interacting with anyone, when they are walking alone, submerged in their own thoughts and worries. some of them self-conscious with muscles on their faces twitching, some of them truly lost in thought. all these cells in the blood that circulates in the london streets. addicted to running. then, each of these cells has a life. each of them is in a bloated, all-so-important bubble of their own. imagine everyone having a life just like your own! so much information, so much memory and emotion, yet each of them a huge isolated bubble. they have hopes, disappointments, connections, people who care for them. and then they are just a cell in blood, so ordinary. no apparent reason to pay attention to them separately, because they are all like one another. london will spit them out soon.
how many people really pay attention to me? I think I'm so special, but noone seems to care. where do I stand on that big, invisible ladder that ranks people? we are immune to even the best now, because there are too many of them, so who should care about me when I'm clearly not the best? I hate it when people on the street look through me, turning their eyes quickly, not finding me interesting enough to really look at. I would always imagine passerby's admired me, but now I know they don't. but how many of them catch my attention anyway? we just pass by. nowadays I feel very ordinary, very unimportant. I hate that.
you see a lot of people walking fast. fat people. good-looking people. well-dressed bankers. lawyers. people with thinning hair and receding hairlines. blonde frizzy hair, burnt from too much intervention. huge afros. red beautiful hair that moves as one mass. tired people. people walking fast, ignited with an unexplainable source of motivation. people waiting for the bus. crazy guy with horribly long rasta hair. two japanese men passed out from the gentle massage at the hair dresser. people talking on the phone with a smile on their faces. couples kissing. really handsome guys with perfect hair. middle aged fit women with a really rough mask on their faces, like they've been out in the cold for too long. old, tired men in trenchcoats with sleepy eyes. women in suits, tights and sneakers. small fat women. women checking themselves out on shop windows. sometimes I just pick one person and look at them hard. sometimes they have a smile for no apparent reason. interesting thing watching people when they are not interacting with anyone, when they are walking alone, submerged in their own thoughts and worries. some of them self-conscious with muscles on their faces twitching, some of them truly lost in thought. all these cells in the blood that circulates in the london streets. addicted to running. then, each of these cells has a life. each of them is in a bloated, all-so-important bubble of their own. imagine everyone having a life just like your own! so much information, so much memory and emotion, yet each of them a huge isolated bubble. they have hopes, disappointments, connections, people who care for them. and then they are just a cell in blood, so ordinary. no apparent reason to pay attention to them separately, because they are all like one another. london will spit them out soon.
how many people really pay attention to me? I think I'm so special, but noone seems to care. where do I stand on that big, invisible ladder that ranks people? we are immune to even the best now, because there are too many of them, so who should care about me when I'm clearly not the best? I hate it when people on the street look through me, turning their eyes quickly, not finding me interesting enough to really look at. I would always imagine passerby's admired me, but now I know they don't. but how many of them catch my attention anyway? we just pass by. nowadays I feel very ordinary, very unimportant. I hate that.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Turkish Elections
The incumbent Justice and Development Party has won the parliamentary elections. This result was expected, and I don't get those that are so angry and disappointed at it. Here are vote and MP distributions in 2002 and today, as of now:
AKP - 2002: 34.43%, 365; 2007: 46.62%, 340
CHP - 2002: 19.41%, 177; 2007: 20.91%, 111
MHP - 2002: 8.35%, 0; 2007: 14.27%, 71
Independents - 2002: 0.96%, 8; 2007: 5.7%, 28.
If I were in Turkey today, I would have voted for AKP. It's not because I agree with the fellows at the Economist. Having spent some time in Turkey recently, I am well aware of the government's flaws, double standards and negligence, as well as the corruption allegations that seem well-founded. Despite some journalists' willingness to portray a different picture, much went wrong during their term, and we shouldn't forget. The murder of the Council of State judges, the murder of Hrant Dink, Article 301 and rising nationalism, the uneasy current account deficit, wide-spread unemployment among the youth, soaring crime rates, unbelievably atrocious crime stories, the EU disappointment, horrendous public transportation, the derailed fast train, worries over earthquakes, drought, erosion and forest fires that remain unaddressed, the deep divides in the society - and those are not only religious or ethnic divides, they are divides between rich and poor, educated and ignorant. They simply did not do enough. And they also did not lift the headscarf ban.
But let's take a look at AKP's rivals: CHP, one that does not formulate any policy except for stirring up fear and anger against religious fundamentalists, foreign investors, businessmen, European Union. They make up the "secular elite" alongside the military, and them branding themselves secular is not enough reason for anyone to vote for them. Their leader Deniz Baykal is famous for both his ambition that undermines the success of his own party and his incompetence.
I don't need to say much about the blind, irrational nationalism of MHP. Their increasing popularity is the only thing that truly disturbs me about this election. They are abusing the sentiment about the increasing clashes between the PKK and Turkish soldiers in the South East. Although the injustices done to Kurds by the Turkish state are clear, nothing can justify the violence inflicted by the PKK. Especially after reading Mutluluk by Zülfü Livaneli, I appreciate more and more the difficulty and meaning of what our soldiers are doing there, of course all we can do is imagine, there is no way to truly understand. It is so appalling and two-faced that the US and Iraqi Kurds are not trying in good faith to stop PKK. All the same, I find it very dangerous that growing numbers of people go for the hate-inflicting, "testosterone-driven" nationalism.
Finally, Mehmet Ağar's centre-right DP lost miserably, getting only 5.43% of the vote, despite its equivalent ANAP's failure to enter the election after a doomed merger between the parties. Ağar's alleged association with the "deep state" was a big liability, although the media seemed to forget the accusations and the trials. AKP gained much ground in centre-right to the expense of DP and ANAP. Centre right is the most favourable place to stand in Turkish political spectrum.
More people will be represented in this parliament than the last one, which is good. Running independent enabled Kurdish candidates in the eastern and south eastern provinces to get around the 10% threshold for political parties. They came first in Tunceli, Muş, Diyarbakır, Şırnak, Hakkari and Iğdır. AKP increased its votes but will have a healthier, smaller majority, forcing it to come up with a compromise candidate for President (unless they try to push through the referendum option immediately.)
A new party is desperately needed. A new party made up of liberal-minded, well-qualified, idealistic yet practical people. People who won't try to gain support by simply standing on one side or the other of the religious and ethnical divides, but instead work for better education and employment for all in good faith. People who understand the world economy and the importance of being open and competitive. A party that's not just the best option among the bad.
The incumbent Justice and Development Party has won the parliamentary elections. This result was expected, and I don't get those that are so angry and disappointed at it. Here are vote and MP distributions in 2002 and today, as of now:
AKP - 2002: 34.43%, 365; 2007: 46.62%, 340
CHP - 2002: 19.41%, 177; 2007: 20.91%, 111
MHP - 2002: 8.35%, 0; 2007: 14.27%, 71
Independents - 2002: 0.96%, 8; 2007: 5.7%, 28.
If I were in Turkey today, I would have voted for AKP. It's not because I agree with the fellows at the Economist. Having spent some time in Turkey recently, I am well aware of the government's flaws, double standards and negligence, as well as the corruption allegations that seem well-founded. Despite some journalists' willingness to portray a different picture, much went wrong during their term, and we shouldn't forget. The murder of the Council of State judges, the murder of Hrant Dink, Article 301 and rising nationalism, the uneasy current account deficit, wide-spread unemployment among the youth, soaring crime rates, unbelievably atrocious crime stories, the EU disappointment, horrendous public transportation, the derailed fast train, worries over earthquakes, drought, erosion and forest fires that remain unaddressed, the deep divides in the society - and those are not only religious or ethnic divides, they are divides between rich and poor, educated and ignorant. They simply did not do enough. And they also did not lift the headscarf ban.
But let's take a look at AKP's rivals: CHP, one that does not formulate any policy except for stirring up fear and anger against religious fundamentalists, foreign investors, businessmen, European Union. They make up the "secular elite" alongside the military, and them branding themselves secular is not enough reason for anyone to vote for them. Their leader Deniz Baykal is famous for both his ambition that undermines the success of his own party and his incompetence.
I don't need to say much about the blind, irrational nationalism of MHP. Their increasing popularity is the only thing that truly disturbs me about this election. They are abusing the sentiment about the increasing clashes between the PKK and Turkish soldiers in the South East. Although the injustices done to Kurds by the Turkish state are clear, nothing can justify the violence inflicted by the PKK. Especially after reading Mutluluk by Zülfü Livaneli, I appreciate more and more the difficulty and meaning of what our soldiers are doing there, of course all we can do is imagine, there is no way to truly understand. It is so appalling and two-faced that the US and Iraqi Kurds are not trying in good faith to stop PKK. All the same, I find it very dangerous that growing numbers of people go for the hate-inflicting, "testosterone-driven" nationalism.
Finally, Mehmet Ağar's centre-right DP lost miserably, getting only 5.43% of the vote, despite its equivalent ANAP's failure to enter the election after a doomed merger between the parties. Ağar's alleged association with the "deep state" was a big liability, although the media seemed to forget the accusations and the trials. AKP gained much ground in centre-right to the expense of DP and ANAP. Centre right is the most favourable place to stand in Turkish political spectrum.
More people will be represented in this parliament than the last one, which is good. Running independent enabled Kurdish candidates in the eastern and south eastern provinces to get around the 10% threshold for political parties. They came first in Tunceli, Muş, Diyarbakır, Şırnak, Hakkari and Iğdır. AKP increased its votes but will have a healthier, smaller majority, forcing it to come up with a compromise candidate for President (unless they try to push through the referendum option immediately.)
A new party is desperately needed. A new party made up of liberal-minded, well-qualified, idealistic yet practical people. People who won't try to gain support by simply standing on one side or the other of the religious and ethnical divides, but instead work for better education and employment for all in good faith. People who understand the world economy and the importance of being open and competitive. A party that's not just the best option among the bad.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Daria
When you tried to kiss me
I only bit your tongue
When you tried to get me together
I only came undone
When you tried to tell me
The one for me was you
I was in your mattress
Back in 1982
Daria
I won't be soothed
Daria (yeah)
I won't be soothed over
Like smoothed over
Like milk silk a bedspread or a quilt
Icing on a cake
Or a serene translucent lake
Daria
Daria
Daria
I won't be soothed
I won't be soothed
When you tried to tell me
Of all the love you had
I was cleaning oil from beaches
Seeing only what was bad
When you tried to feed me
I only shut my mouth
Food got on your apron
And you told me to get out
Daria
I won't be soothed
Daria (yeah)
I won't be soothed over,
Like smoothed over,
Like milk, silk, a bedspread, or a quilt
Icing on a cake
Or a serene translucent lake
Daria
Daria
Daria
Daria
Daria
Daria
Daria
I won't be soothed
I won't be soothed
(Cake)
When you tried to kiss me
I only bit your tongue
When you tried to get me together
I only came undone
When you tried to tell me
The one for me was you
I was in your mattress
Back in 1982
Daria
I won't be soothed
Daria (yeah)
I won't be soothed over
Like smoothed over
Like milk silk a bedspread or a quilt
Icing on a cake
Or a serene translucent lake
Daria
Daria
Daria
I won't be soothed
I won't be soothed
When you tried to tell me
Of all the love you had
I was cleaning oil from beaches
Seeing only what was bad
When you tried to feed me
I only shut my mouth
Food got on your apron
And you told me to get out
Daria
I won't be soothed
Daria (yeah)
I won't be soothed over,
Like smoothed over,
Like milk, silk, a bedspread, or a quilt
Icing on a cake
Or a serene translucent lake
Daria
Daria
Daria
Daria
Daria
Daria
Daria
I won't be soothed
I won't be soothed
(Cake)
About being ordinary... and more
I haven't been writing since I came back to London, I miss sitting down and collecting my thoughts. I've been working, socializing and trying to work on my dissertation - very inefficiently and unsuccessfully. I want to use the Varieties of Capitalism approach to explain differences in corporate governance and countries' approaches to crossborder M&As - and maybe private equity? Disclosure? As you see I have no clue! And I don't know what I can add to the existing literature. I'm hoping to read more and more and hopefully I'll come up with a revelation.
Since I last wrote here, I finished On Beauty by Zadie Smith, went to the Cake concert in O2 arena, saw La Vie en Rose and Good Night and Good Luck, went to a really fun barbecue afternoon and a Forro place on Brick Lane. I downloaded lots of music on ITunes, all of Cake's albums (their music is so vibrant and cheerful and alive, with colorful and upbeat layers - and one layer is a recurring, hypnotic melody), Meteora by Linkin Park (I saw them on their Live Earth concert in Tokyo -on TV, but they were still amazing), and Işık Doğudan Yükselir by Sezen Aksu. Remember what I told in my previous post about music that connects directly to your heart and stirs something in you? After elementary school, I went to this road trip with my parents on the Black Sea coast. It was an amazing trip, I remember it really fondly, and this album played on tape the whole time. Davet is the sexiest song you can ever hear, and I was aware of this even when I was ten. The hazelnuts on the beach in Akçakoca, the dark shadows of the grapevines in Safranbolu, the dark green and the water lilies in Abant... I was reading Ayn Rand's the Fountainhead the whole time. From the book I remember the ice blue backless dress Dominique wears and the granite, and that's about it. So that was twelve years ago... Wow. Will those days ever come back? After years, last year in Spring Break I took a road trip in California, and that was amazing, too. I feel completely free when I'm going in the car. I feel cool and calm inside yet excited and expectant - happy, I guess.
There is so much to see and watch, so much to hear, so much history, so much variety, it blows my mind. As Orhan Pamuk wrote once, it is so tempting to stay at the point where you could do anything, actually committing to nothing. As a student I was always sure I'd do something big. I was learning something important and meaningful that would bring me somewhere. Once you actually start working, you sit on an office floor next to tens of other people, you make little money, and you ask yourself whether someone else could do what you're doing just as well as you do. And you wonder whether you should be doing something else. Or whether this leads to something bigger. I think the trick is to be able to content with what you are doing, and try to do your best at it, while always, always keeping your initial dreams at the back of your head. It's important to be content and calm, because it enables you to do something rather than continuously and restlessly searching. But now and then I should remember the initial dream and ask (again calmly) whether my job is leading me there on the greater scheme of things. Because habit makes people numb, and daily rituals and schedules are too comfortable to change, especially when you get efficient and good at something. So it's important to stop and ask every once in a while - is this really what I want to do?
I haven't been writing since I came back to London, I miss sitting down and collecting my thoughts. I've been working, socializing and trying to work on my dissertation - very inefficiently and unsuccessfully. I want to use the Varieties of Capitalism approach to explain differences in corporate governance and countries' approaches to crossborder M&As - and maybe private equity? Disclosure? As you see I have no clue! And I don't know what I can add to the existing literature. I'm hoping to read more and more and hopefully I'll come up with a revelation.
Since I last wrote here, I finished On Beauty by Zadie Smith, went to the Cake concert in O2 arena, saw La Vie en Rose and Good Night and Good Luck, went to a really fun barbecue afternoon and a Forro place on Brick Lane. I downloaded lots of music on ITunes, all of Cake's albums (their music is so vibrant and cheerful and alive, with colorful and upbeat layers - and one layer is a recurring, hypnotic melody), Meteora by Linkin Park (I saw them on their Live Earth concert in Tokyo -on TV, but they were still amazing), and Işık Doğudan Yükselir by Sezen Aksu. Remember what I told in my previous post about music that connects directly to your heart and stirs something in you? After elementary school, I went to this road trip with my parents on the Black Sea coast. It was an amazing trip, I remember it really fondly, and this album played on tape the whole time. Davet is the sexiest song you can ever hear, and I was aware of this even when I was ten. The hazelnuts on the beach in Akçakoca, the dark shadows of the grapevines in Safranbolu, the dark green and the water lilies in Abant... I was reading Ayn Rand's the Fountainhead the whole time. From the book I remember the ice blue backless dress Dominique wears and the granite, and that's about it. So that was twelve years ago... Wow. Will those days ever come back? After years, last year in Spring Break I took a road trip in California, and that was amazing, too. I feel completely free when I'm going in the car. I feel cool and calm inside yet excited and expectant - happy, I guess.
There is so much to see and watch, so much to hear, so much history, so much variety, it blows my mind. As Orhan Pamuk wrote once, it is so tempting to stay at the point where you could do anything, actually committing to nothing. As a student I was always sure I'd do something big. I was learning something important and meaningful that would bring me somewhere. Once you actually start working, you sit on an office floor next to tens of other people, you make little money, and you ask yourself whether someone else could do what you're doing just as well as you do. And you wonder whether you should be doing something else. Or whether this leads to something bigger. I think the trick is to be able to content with what you are doing, and try to do your best at it, while always, always keeping your initial dreams at the back of your head. It's important to be content and calm, because it enables you to do something rather than continuously and restlessly searching. But now and then I should remember the initial dream and ask (again calmly) whether my job is leading me there on the greater scheme of things. Because habit makes people numb, and daily rituals and schedules are too comfortable to change, especially when you get efficient and good at something. So it's important to stop and ask every once in a while - is this really what I want to do?
Friday, July 06, 2007
Political Quiz
I used to call myself a liberal when it comes to personal freedoms and a conservative when it comes to economic freedoms. I found out this position is called a libertarian, but I also realized I'm in fact NOT one.
In most cases I believe in individual responsibility, and I'm against policies that don't give people (and companies) enough incentives to work and improve their life standards (or efficiency). But there are important exceptions where people don't have enough information, where they don't make rational decisions even when they do have the information, and their choices may have important externalities on the society. Nick Barr's class on Economics of Social Policy made me recognize these cases and converted me from an American-educated free market advocate into a centrist, if not a liberal. Sometimes private insurance leaves large groups in the society uninsured, as in the case of health insurance. Similarly, if student loans were left to markets alone, many students would not be able to receive them. Discretionary subsidies to businesses cannot be justified, but businesses may need government encouragement to increase their R&D spending.
In matters of personal freedoms too, I believe in individual responsibility and choice as long as they don't interfere with or harm others' lives. Based on this basic principle, I would argue for gay rights, but I would be against free possession and use of drugs. High demand for drugs will push poor groups in the society to become suppliers. A system that punishes poor suppliers while protecting rich demanders makes no sense to me. I'm also against free possession of guns.
I took this quiz and found out that my views make me a centrist leaning left.
I used to call myself a liberal when it comes to personal freedoms and a conservative when it comes to economic freedoms. I found out this position is called a libertarian, but I also realized I'm in fact NOT one.
In most cases I believe in individual responsibility, and I'm against policies that don't give people (and companies) enough incentives to work and improve their life standards (or efficiency). But there are important exceptions where people don't have enough information, where they don't make rational decisions even when they do have the information, and their choices may have important externalities on the society. Nick Barr's class on Economics of Social Policy made me recognize these cases and converted me from an American-educated free market advocate into a centrist, if not a liberal. Sometimes private insurance leaves large groups in the society uninsured, as in the case of health insurance. Similarly, if student loans were left to markets alone, many students would not be able to receive them. Discretionary subsidies to businesses cannot be justified, but businesses may need government encouragement to increase their R&D spending.
In matters of personal freedoms too, I believe in individual responsibility and choice as long as they don't interfere with or harm others' lives. Based on this basic principle, I would argue for gay rights, but I would be against free possession and use of drugs. High demand for drugs will push poor groups in the society to become suppliers. A system that punishes poor suppliers while protecting rich demanders makes no sense to me. I'm also against free possession of guns.
I took this quiz and found out that my views make me a centrist leaning left.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Back to Black
I don't really have much knowledge on music, I'm like a clean white board, very easy to influence. I try to keep an open mind, try new things and catch up. Sometimes I'm doing something else, and someone's (or my own) ITunes library is on, and a song I've never heard before grabs my attention because it's so good. Some songs need a second chance and take listening to a few times before they grow on you. Some songs I only like, some songs I love. I listen to them over and over and over until they grow old. Then they re-appear unexpectedly after a while, in shuffle or on the radio.
What touches me most is Turkish music played with traditional instruments, like kanun, ud, and ney and clarinet. Hearing a good piece can make me really homesick in a few moments and I'll want to move back for good as soon as possible. They pull invisible strings attached directly to my heart. Then sometimes a real American song will come along in someone else's library, like John Mayer or Jack Johnson or Dave Matthews, and I will miss the uncomplicated, blunt and noisy American spirit. Or a German song that used to play in clubs all the time when we were in Munich.
I think there is something wrong if you're showing a conscious effort to understand and like a piece of music. I don't want to see music as an intellectual endeavour. I don't really like discussing about music, because I don't know much about it and I don't put much thought into it, I don't really have strong opinions. I just feel if a song doesn't grab me, it's not good for me now. It's the same thing with literature. Maybe I should be in a different state of mind to like a song or book, and I'm not there yet. Maybe I will come across it at a better time and it will hit me then.
What I love nowadays is Amy Winehouse. I had been listening to a lot of Nina Simone and Sade during exams time. Nina Simone has an attitude, she's independent. But it's not because she's so sensible and rational, she admits to being in love with someone that doesn't make sense, and she doesn't mind fighting for him. In "Do What You Gotta Do," she says:
Man I can understand how it might be
Kinda hard to love a girl like me
I don't blame you much for wanting to be free
I just wanted you to know
I've loved you better that your own kin did
From the very start
It's my own fault
What happens to my heart
You see I've always known you'd go
Now I know it'll make you feel sad
And make you feel so bad
They say you don't treat me like you should
They got ways to make you feels no good
I guess they got no way to know
I've had my eyes wide open from the start
And man you never lied to me
The part of you that they'll never see
Is the part you've shown to me
So you just do what you gotta do
My wild sweet love
Though it may mean that I'll never kiss
Those sweet lips again
Pay that no mind
Find that dappled dream of yours
Come on back and see me when you can
Sade is a bit more mellow, calm and fragile:
You think I'd leave your side baby
You know me better than that
You think I'd leave you down when you're down on your knees
I wouldn't do that
Amy is strong and weak and hurt and blunt and sincere all at once. Her music is soulful and sexy, her voice is amazing. She doesn't care in In My Bed:
you'll never get my mind right
like two ships passing in the night
in the night, in the night
want the same thing where we lay
otherwise mine's a different way
a different way from where I'm going
oh, it's you again listen this isn't a reunion
so sorry if i turn my head
yours is a familliar face
but that don't make your place safe
in my bed my bed my bed
She's in love in Back to Black:
You went back to what you know
So far removed from all that we went through
And I tread a troubled track
My odds are stacked
I'll go back to black
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to.....
I go back to us
I love you much
It's not enough
You love blow and I love puff
And life is like a pipe
And I'm a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside
We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to...
black.
I don't really have much knowledge on music, I'm like a clean white board, very easy to influence. I try to keep an open mind, try new things and catch up. Sometimes I'm doing something else, and someone's (or my own) ITunes library is on, and a song I've never heard before grabs my attention because it's so good. Some songs need a second chance and take listening to a few times before they grow on you. Some songs I only like, some songs I love. I listen to them over and over and over until they grow old. Then they re-appear unexpectedly after a while, in shuffle or on the radio.
What touches me most is Turkish music played with traditional instruments, like kanun, ud, and ney and clarinet. Hearing a good piece can make me really homesick in a few moments and I'll want to move back for good as soon as possible. They pull invisible strings attached directly to my heart. Then sometimes a real American song will come along in someone else's library, like John Mayer or Jack Johnson or Dave Matthews, and I will miss the uncomplicated, blunt and noisy American spirit. Or a German song that used to play in clubs all the time when we were in Munich.
I think there is something wrong if you're showing a conscious effort to understand and like a piece of music. I don't want to see music as an intellectual endeavour. I don't really like discussing about music, because I don't know much about it and I don't put much thought into it, I don't really have strong opinions. I just feel if a song doesn't grab me, it's not good for me now. It's the same thing with literature. Maybe I should be in a different state of mind to like a song or book, and I'm not there yet. Maybe I will come across it at a better time and it will hit me then.
What I love nowadays is Amy Winehouse. I had been listening to a lot of Nina Simone and Sade during exams time. Nina Simone has an attitude, she's independent. But it's not because she's so sensible and rational, she admits to being in love with someone that doesn't make sense, and she doesn't mind fighting for him. In "Do What You Gotta Do," she says:
Man I can understand how it might be
Kinda hard to love a girl like me
I don't blame you much for wanting to be free
I just wanted you to know
I've loved you better that your own kin did
From the very start
It's my own fault
What happens to my heart
You see I've always known you'd go
Now I know it'll make you feel sad
And make you feel so bad
They say you don't treat me like you should
They got ways to make you feels no good
I guess they got no way to know
I've had my eyes wide open from the start
And man you never lied to me
The part of you that they'll never see
Is the part you've shown to me
So you just do what you gotta do
My wild sweet love
Though it may mean that I'll never kiss
Those sweet lips again
Pay that no mind
Find that dappled dream of yours
Come on back and see me when you can
Sade is a bit more mellow, calm and fragile:
You think I'd leave your side baby
You know me better than that
You think I'd leave you down when you're down on your knees
I wouldn't do that
Amy is strong and weak and hurt and blunt and sincere all at once. Her music is soulful and sexy, her voice is amazing. She doesn't care in In My Bed:
you'll never get my mind right
like two ships passing in the night
in the night, in the night
want the same thing where we lay
otherwise mine's a different way
a different way from where I'm going
oh, it's you again listen this isn't a reunion
so sorry if i turn my head
yours is a familliar face
but that don't make your place safe
in my bed my bed my bed
She's in love in Back to Black:
You went back to what you know
So far removed from all that we went through
And I tread a troubled track
My odds are stacked
I'll go back to black
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to.....
I go back to us
I love you much
It's not enough
You love blow and I love puff
And life is like a pipe
And I'm a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside
We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to...
black.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
The Welcome Lightness of Losing
I'm writing this by the pool but in fact I started working a couple of weeks ago. My first real, paid job. Soon after I realized they expected me to show up on time and really, efficiently work for seven hours (unlike previous internships), the rush hour in London was overwhelming and just plain horrible, I wouldn't be best friends with my co-workers, and office life was monotonous. I hope to feel better (or think less) when I get a better hang of things. On top of all this, London proved to be unexpectedly cold and rainy in the summer, and they put a car full of explosives in the neighborhood I work. I'm just hoping that the odds that the same area is targeted for a second time are pretty low, unless the city is in war!
The day before my first day of work, I heard back from the FT about the internship prize I had applied for a couple of months ago. Working for the FT is my dream (although I barely read it unless I have to for work or school!) I do want to travel to developing countries and talk to people and help their plight (or uncover a plot) by writing just, honest, direct stories. That is as meaningful as it gets, something that will set me apart from everyone else in all those offices across the world. I imagined myself in cargo trousers - that special young fearless idealist journalist woman. Somebody finally discovered my huuuuuge potential.
Too much happiness makes you a little unstable and annoying, but I tried to keep my balance. I saw myself too good for my job (not exactly the best attitude to start a job when you clearly have a lot to learn!) but I did my best to keep my vanity to myself. I took pride in my modesty and tried to work hard.
Now, to keep the long story short, as there's nothing exciting about the post-interview wait and playing the interview scene over and over in your head, weighing your pros and cons, I didn't get the internship. That shouldn't come as a surprise because I haven't done anything that I aspire to do yet. I just feel much more clear-headed and balanced now. I'm excited about my life and projects again. Steve Jobs likes to tell how getting fired from the board of Apple turned out to be a good thing for him. Starting fresh is great because it is humbling. You realize your real value, and you are ready to learn and work hard to increase it.
I'm writing this by the pool but in fact I started working a couple of weeks ago. My first real, paid job. Soon after I realized they expected me to show up on time and really, efficiently work for seven hours (unlike previous internships), the rush hour in London was overwhelming and just plain horrible, I wouldn't be best friends with my co-workers, and office life was monotonous. I hope to feel better (or think less) when I get a better hang of things. On top of all this, London proved to be unexpectedly cold and rainy in the summer, and they put a car full of explosives in the neighborhood I work. I'm just hoping that the odds that the same area is targeted for a second time are pretty low, unless the city is in war!
The day before my first day of work, I heard back from the FT about the internship prize I had applied for a couple of months ago. Working for the FT is my dream (although I barely read it unless I have to for work or school!) I do want to travel to developing countries and talk to people and help their plight (or uncover a plot) by writing just, honest, direct stories. That is as meaningful as it gets, something that will set me apart from everyone else in all those offices across the world. I imagined myself in cargo trousers - that special young fearless idealist journalist woman. Somebody finally discovered my huuuuuge potential.
Too much happiness makes you a little unstable and annoying, but I tried to keep my balance. I saw myself too good for my job (not exactly the best attitude to start a job when you clearly have a lot to learn!) but I did my best to keep my vanity to myself. I took pride in my modesty and tried to work hard.
Now, to keep the long story short, as there's nothing exciting about the post-interview wait and playing the interview scene over and over in your head, weighing your pros and cons, I didn't get the internship. That shouldn't come as a surprise because I haven't done anything that I aspire to do yet. I just feel much more clear-headed and balanced now. I'm excited about my life and projects again. Steve Jobs likes to tell how getting fired from the board of Apple turned out to be a good thing for him. Starting fresh is great because it is humbling. You realize your real value, and you are ready to learn and work hard to increase it.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Meaning (2)
I had a history teacher in middle school who would rub his thumb to his index finger and say it with an all-knowing grin on his face - "it's all about the money." He prided himself for being so enlightened despite being a history teacher - you know you can get bogged down in so many beside-the-point details when you teach history. You might get carried away talking about battles and castles and tents and rivalries and power and the eccentric traits of the leader and revenge and honour and pride and love. My history teacher had a thing for horses and Turks' horsemenship, for example. But he didn't let any of it blur his sight and blind his judgement. He knew that the reason for all wars was money.
That's nothing original. Why do the Westerners intervene in Iraq of all places? Are we supposed to believe they are so idealistic? It's the same story all over again - the elites mobilize the masses for purely economic reasons, personal ambitions and grudges. They use idealistic motives, heroic stories and well-substantiated fear to add some meaning to the story. Otherwise, how could young people be convinced to put their lives at stake?
As more people die, the fog of irrationality and myth thickens, it becomes all the more difficult to admit to mistakes. How can one explain - were all those lives lost and taken simply because of poor judgment, poor foresight? Was it just senseless war?
Then the variables shift, your foreign presence tips the balances and it is no longer reasonable to go out of a place you weren't supposed to go into in the first place. The stalemate becomes the new status quo. People who invested their lives in it cannot bring themselves to accept anything short of victory. You can't close down a factory that continues to run losses, because the sunk costs are already too large. The wrestler who loses always wants another round.
As time goes by, the war takes on a meaning of itself, one that is independent of the initial motives and goals. The lives and time lost give it a new meaning. That is when it becomes so difficult to give up and walk away.
I had a history teacher in middle school who would rub his thumb to his index finger and say it with an all-knowing grin on his face - "it's all about the money." He prided himself for being so enlightened despite being a history teacher - you know you can get bogged down in so many beside-the-point details when you teach history. You might get carried away talking about battles and castles and tents and rivalries and power and the eccentric traits of the leader and revenge and honour and pride and love. My history teacher had a thing for horses and Turks' horsemenship, for example. But he didn't let any of it blur his sight and blind his judgement. He knew that the reason for all wars was money.
That's nothing original. Why do the Westerners intervene in Iraq of all places? Are we supposed to believe they are so idealistic? It's the same story all over again - the elites mobilize the masses for purely economic reasons, personal ambitions and grudges. They use idealistic motives, heroic stories and well-substantiated fear to add some meaning to the story. Otherwise, how could young people be convinced to put their lives at stake?
As more people die, the fog of irrationality and myth thickens, it becomes all the more difficult to admit to mistakes. How can one explain - were all those lives lost and taken simply because of poor judgment, poor foresight? Was it just senseless war?
Then the variables shift, your foreign presence tips the balances and it is no longer reasonable to go out of a place you weren't supposed to go into in the first place. The stalemate becomes the new status quo. People who invested their lives in it cannot bring themselves to accept anything short of victory. You can't close down a factory that continues to run losses, because the sunk costs are already too large. The wrestler who loses always wants another round.
As time goes by, the war takes on a meaning of itself, one that is independent of the initial motives and goals. The lives and time lost give it a new meaning. That is when it becomes so difficult to give up and walk away.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
the best song ever:
Love Will Come Through
If I told you a secret
You won't tell a soul
Will you hold it and keep it alive
Cause it's burning a hole
And I can't get to sleep
And I can't live alone in this lie
So look up
Take it away
Don't look da-da-da- down the mountain
If the world isn't turning
Your heart won't return
Anyone, anything, anyhow
So take me don't leave me
Take me don't leave me
Baby, love will come through it's just waiting for you
Well I stand at the crossroads
Of highroads and lowroads
And I got a feeling it's right
If it's real what I'm feeling
There's no makebelieving
The sound of the wings of the flight
of a dove
Take it away
Don't look da-da-da down the mountain
If the world isn't turning
Your heart won't return
anyone anything anyhow...
So take me don't leave me
Take me don't leave me
Baby, love will come through it's just waiting for you
So look up
Take it away
Don't look da-da-da- down
If the world isn't turning
Your heart won't return anyone anything anyhow...
So take me don't leave me
Take me don't leave me
Baby, love will come through it's just waiting for you
Love will come through
Love will come through
Love will come through
(Travis)
Love Will Come Through
If I told you a secret
You won't tell a soul
Will you hold it and keep it alive
Cause it's burning a hole
And I can't get to sleep
And I can't live alone in this lie
So look up
Take it away
Don't look da-da-da- down the mountain
If the world isn't turning
Your heart won't return
Anyone, anything, anyhow
So take me don't leave me
Take me don't leave me
Baby, love will come through it's just waiting for you
Well I stand at the crossroads
Of highroads and lowroads
And I got a feeling it's right
If it's real what I'm feeling
There's no makebelieving
The sound of the wings of the flight
of a dove
Take it away
Don't look da-da-da down the mountain
If the world isn't turning
Your heart won't return
anyone anything anyhow...
So take me don't leave me
Take me don't leave me
Baby, love will come through it's just waiting for you
So look up
Take it away
Don't look da-da-da- down
If the world isn't turning
Your heart won't return anyone anything anyhow...
So take me don't leave me
Take me don't leave me
Baby, love will come through it's just waiting for you
Love will come through
Love will come through
Love will come through
(Travis)
Monday, June 18, 2007
“...İstanbul’un kargacık burgacık sokaklarından, Berlin’deki gibi ıhlamurlu, Paris’teki gibi yıldız biçiminde ve Petersburg’daki gibi köprülü bulvarlar açabilmek için, bütün ömrünce akşamları emekli paşalarımızın Batılılar gibi tasmalarla gezdireceği köpeklerini sıçtırabilecekleri modern kaldırımlar düşledikten sonra, hayallerinin hiçbirini gerçekleştiremeden ölüp mezarı kaybolan hayalperestlerin... mankenlerini gördüler.... ‘Kahve Manzaraları’ arasında, başları omuzlarının arasında kaybolan işsizleri, dama ya da tavla oynarken yaşadıkları yüzyılı ve kendi kimliklerini mutlulukla unutabilen talihlileri, ellerinde çay bardaklarını tutarken ve ucuz sigaraları içerken kaybettikleri varoluş nedenlerini hatırlamaya çalışır gibi sonsuzdaki bir noktaya bakan, kendi iç düşüncelerine çekilen ya da oraya da çekilemedikleri için oyun kağıtlarını, zarları ya da birbirlerini hırpalayan vatandaşları gördüler...
...Çıplak ampullerin ışığı altındaki mankenler, kimi zaman Galip’e, unutulmuş bir otobüs durağında hiçbir zaman gelmeyecek bir otobüsü beklerken üzerleri yüzyılların toz ve çamuruyla kaplanan sabırlı vatandaşları, kimi zaman, İstanbul sokaklarında yürürken duyduğu bir yanılsamayı, bütün mutsuzların birbirleriyle kardeş olduğu duygusunu hatırlatıyordu.” Orhan Pamuk, Kara Kitap, sf. 186, 187.
How We Are
...Çıplak ampullerin ışığı altındaki mankenler, kimi zaman Galip’e, unutulmuş bir otobüs durağında hiçbir zaman gelmeyecek bir otobüsü beklerken üzerleri yüzyılların toz ve çamuruyla kaplanan sabırlı vatandaşları, kimi zaman, İstanbul sokaklarında yürürken duyduğu bir yanılsamayı, bütün mutsuzların birbirleriyle kardeş olduğu duygusunu hatırlatıyordu.” Orhan Pamuk, Kara Kitap, sf. 186, 187.
How We Are
In the Black Book, Orhan Pamuk describes an underground city populated by mannequins. These are the mannequins of ordinary Turkish people in the middle of their ordinary, daily activities, like playing backgammon in a coffee house or waiting for a bus that will never come, demonstrating gestures and characteristics particular to Turks. There is always the melancholy, the sadness of being ordinary, backward, poor. There's nothing glamorous and light about being a Turk.
Actually one never knows how one really is, and one might think one is something else. But one is nevertheless how one is, and one always remains so. Only a careful outsider can understand how pitiable one really is.
Today I went to How We Are: Photographing Britain exhibition in Tate Britain. I realized how pitiable Britain is despite it being Britain. Industrial revolution, two wars, the decline of industry in the 70's and 80's, and everyone who lost out. There is much that is ordinary, tacky and ugly. Orphans, veterans, miners, marines, jobless, punks, black, young girls, party scenes, office scenes, emptied slums.
Most of the people whose photos I saw are long gone. But there are many more of them outside, struggling to find some peace and meaning in this not-so-special world. People in London are not happy.
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