The things you own end up owning you.

They’re selling postcards of the Hanging: A Thought on the Turkish Media.29.3.08

They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town

The circus never left the town in case of the Turkish Republic. They always sold postcards of the hangings, they applauded the generals, they cheered for the fundamentalists, they acknowledged the wisdom of cowards hiding behind the man with the blue eyes. They are the spin-doctors of the Turkish society. Like the Ottoman intellectuals, they love the West but never give afford to understand it thoroughly. Orientalism is nailed in their hads, became a modus operandi of their perceptions. They never tried to understand the European Union, they could not even manage to be organic intellectuals of the Round Tables. They sell postcards of the hangings, and they write stories beneath those, they love their nation above all.

They have also their orientalisms, they also have their genetic code of racism mostly. The British holigans deserved to be ripped by the dis-located youth. The circus unfortunately never left the scene in Turkey. They slowly made the country a mega-circus, in which the clowns are kings. The clowns gives money and makes people cry in the prime-time. They earn money from tears, they sadistically exploit their own people. The clowns in this circus laugh to make u laugh, but never forget to take your purse from your pocket. Our clowns sell postcards of the hanging, the hanging of the Turkish democracy, which never managed to be a mature adult, which always had a knock on the head everytime she tried to talk. and memorised those postcards of the hanging thought by bloody clowns….

The lyrics are from the desolation road of bob dylan….

photo from:


March 28, 2008 - Posted by | Bob Dylan, Turkish daily, Turkish Politics

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