look at me! i'm hitler!

One of the finer facts about Europe is that you can only imagine how much shit has gone down on any single square inch of terrain. This continent has been through more twists, turns, turmoils, tragedies, and travesties than any other on the planet, and it has always been this way. The place is just soaked in the past and you can smell it in the streets. None of this Wal-Mart-today, Costco-tomorrow bullshit. There is grit in everything you look at. From the bullet holes in the walls to the older women that line the streets selling tulips.

Above, I can be seen standing at the front steps of the Reichstag building in Berlin. For those of you who have no idea what this means, either Wikipedia it yourselves or listen to me when I tell you that this was something hauntingly auspicious, if only for the sake of history itself.


The Reichstag, although bearing witness to some of the most horrible evil that ever walked the planet, has been transformed into something quite extraordinary. It's a beehive.


Aside from all the haunting monuments that crowd the city, Berlin was actually rad (and I use "rad" sparingly). Everything that my true love said about the city was true. It really was quite spectacular, and it takes a lot for me to say something like that.

From a fairly young age, I've been incredibly fortunate to see many of the globes finest cities. Everything from exchanges in Paris to vacations in Cancun. From back alley sleeping in Sydney to stirring shit in Barcelona. I've been such a lucky shit to be even close to these places, and Berlin has been no exception.

It's clean, very easy to follow, and German isn't all that hard to learn. The architecture is top-shelf-baroque-modern and the girls are beautiful. The people are very friendly and all know enough English to make you feel accommodated.




One of the more anticipated destinations in this city was the Berlin Wall. Again, something that you should investigate if you are unsure as to what this means. The Wall was one of the the darkest chapters in Germany's history, only second to the Holocaust and the reign of Adolf Hitler himself. This was something I'd wanted to see since I was young, right up there with the Coliseum - but I'll get to that one day when I'm good and ready.

To even touch this wall was as important to me as the pyramids of Giza or the Great Wall of China.
Now, before I close this entry I should mention two things.

First, when resting after a long run through the streets of Berlin late at night, I stopped for a breather. I sat upon the highest step of a famous concert hall (which I will recall at a later date) in one of the cities oldest squares. It was here that I experienced a moment of pure pleasure.
Now, I should mention that this doesn't happen to me very often.

I've garnered many moments of satisfaction throughout my days, but a moment of uninterrupted, inexplicable pleasure is something that happens only once in a black moon. I'm not talking about finding five bucks on the ground or a cheap lay. I'm talking about soaking in a moment without any effort. The kind of moment that just makes you sit back and realize how good you've got it. A young man was reciting a lengthy Chopin piece on the violin to a crowd of none in the town square. I sat behind a statue, unnoticed, until I applauded on my return to my room. These moments are rare to everyone, and I don't blame you. We've been bought off so incredibly badly by toys that we sometimes forget what a palpable sensation even feels like.

Secondly, I've been getting drunk. We'll have nights with an "all you can drink" option. Me, being me, have taken full advantage of this. Beer, wine, schnapps, you name it. It's all been up for grabs.

When my aunt gets drunk she pets strange dogs. When I drink I take abstract long-exposure aisle photographs.