“Defeated revolutions are buried in Paris.“
Nestor Makhno
A 30-40 second slow motion social media video. Behind the picture Dr. Alban is famous for playing the guitar No food(One) The piece has been edited. In the picture, a woman dances like a spoon under pink and purple lights, and her appearance resembles one of the Slavic countries on the Russian-Ukrainian line. The photo was shared by a Twitter user: “Look at this coquetry, this coquetry…” It was shared with the memo. After that, there was a wide range of men’s conversations under the relevant Twitter post: those who sympathized with the parents who sold the field and ate at the casino, those who asked for forgiveness from their mother and went to die in this woman’s path, those who would become dogs for this cause, those who They saw the KGB operation in the big picture, the Turks who didn’t even stop here, etc. The Kurdish conflict, and of course the dirty desires and fantasies derived from the stereotypes of Harasu women and Murad’s black men.
Then at a certain point, when women’s rights activists and lawyers took notice of the tweet, a low-intensity debate began. Lawyers said that the woman in the picture is a minor, and feminist activists said that what the tweeter called coquetry was in fact great anger and resentment towards the men who stole her passport, forced her to work there, and exploited her.
This discussion was followed by another wave of curiosity regarding the place where the photo was taken, the operators, and the identity and origin of the woman playing with the air spoon. At first, the place and its owner became well-known, and there was a buzz in the Twitter world that the owner of the pavilion was a well-known name for the Bishtepe gatherings. It later turned out that the woman playing the spoon is a Ukrainian woman who wrote in her autobiography that she was 17 years old (she immediately changed it to 19 years old). We are reminded of her photos on the bed full of scattered money from the Bulat family, and the words in this photo: ““I would rather cry in the limousine than on the tram.” A note came to the fore..
Aside from all this, the talk about this woman and her story, about which we know almost nothing, focuses on the woman’s look, especially her eyes and her posture. There are essentially two claims in the semiographic and iconic reading of the gaze, which persists under the centenary celebrations of the Republic: this woman is an innocent woman, abused, full of rage, and so on, this woman is a coquettish teacher.
It is similar to the fact that the magic in Mona Lisa’s gaze emerges from the ambiguity resulting from the inability to distinguish between emotions such as sadness, joy, and coquetry.
I would like to open a third reading against this reading of coquetry or hatred. First of all, there is anger in this woman’s eyes, and that’s what makes her flirtatious. In other words, the insurmountable distance that is physically there, that looks as if you could touch it if you extended your hand, but is covered by eyes. But there is not a single emotion on the woman’s face. There is something constantly going on in the woman’s mind, and what comes to her mind keeps falling on the woman’s face. But despite everything, I think the sum of all these facial expressions, looks and expressions is joy. This is a fun woman. At least he’s in a good mood now. He’s aware of what he’s doing, he’s in control of the environment, he may be a little drunk, but his mind is clear. He knows what he’s up against, but those against him don’t realize what they’re up against. This is why women are so cheerful, they will hunt down those who come to hunt them and use their garbage as bait.
This woman is fun, aware of what she is doing, and has a clear mind. She was no longer the daughter of a family that had to live in Kiev, Odessa or Kharkov, where she was said to have been born, by bribing state officials and increasing the salary of a disabled person in Chernobyl in order to get an extra 5 cents from the reactor. Social Service.(2); Nor is he a citizen of a country that has been bombed and reduced to rubble in a pissing contest between Ukrainian fascists and Putin’s tyranny. He left his home, as well as his country. Now in Angara, there is a group of girls saying “lang o’lum, Babys, annuyün mi” etc., wearing shorts, ballerina tights and loafers.
Of all the joyful things here, very few of them are about money, dancing, or fun. What pleases women is that men have no other way than to shake themselves in this device. This woman is ecstatic because these bastards think they are the most vigilant, strongest, most powerful and richest men in the world. However, there is a Komodo dragon in front of them. The taxi meter is running, and perhaps the shadows falling on the woman’s face are the movements of a mechanical meter. These bastards are now truly Angara children and are as lucky as a rabbit caught in the headlights in front of this woman.
Women know this, and in the small spaces of dominance in the wings, this knowledge makes women the subject of great power. Starting from here, women set the rules of the game here, determine the distance, and at the end of this game, the men have their shoes in their hands and their tongues out, and all that remains of them is a bowl of life’s soup. Bastkar or Aissat.
If we continue from here, this is the issue that is difficult for us to understand or is strange to us. In a casino/pavilion setting, people often spend more than money, their lives and bodies. Life can be life itself, or it can be a field, it can be wedding gold in the house, it can be money, it can be the capital of a business that is running normally, or it can be the body of a bully who has nothing but to put on the table when… It’s time. In other words, life is the most precious thing that Ali Shariati Ismail calls. But what turns all of this into currency and puts it into circulation to be spent is the body of the hostess. In other words, within that mechanism, the hostess is an alchemist with the ability to transform men’s bodies and lives into capital, rather than her own body into capital. What happens here, unlike in a brothel, brothel, tenement or waitress, is that a woman can have the power to spend a man. Women have some mechanisms for playing with men. In other words, if the casino is a state (and the state means revolution and luck), then the woman is the person who runs the mint.
In an article I previously wrote for The Wall, I tried to express the carnivalesque relationship between alcohol consumption and masculinity through French etymology as follows:
today pub When Ismail Müştek Mayakon translated Émile Zola’s realistic novel, Known as , in the 1930s, the title of the book was not translated into Turkish. com. asomoar It was left as is. Halit Ziya Öşaklıgil explains the situation as follows in his short introduction to the book:
“Asumwar: From the infinitive form Asumar, which means excessive beating, killing by hitting on the head, shocking with many empty words, and Mustak means the mace that hits on the heads of animals to kill them. It is also used metaphorically for lower-class places that sell bad types of alcohol. It is also a type of cocktail – “Since it meant the place of death, the author used this name for the bar, which is the main subject of the book. The translator did so. She did not try to look up the Turkish version of this word, she took it literally and it worked very well.”
Clubs, bars and casinos (a kind of murder place) where excessive beatings, killings by hitting on the head, mace used to kill animals, being shocked with empty words and drinks of poor quality (alcoholic drinks)… I think in the world there is no other word to explain this murderous carnival that floats around. The Baroque has such rich and vibrant signs and connotations, both semiotic and etymological.
While doing fieldwork in rural casinos, one metaphor that flight attendants like to use often in relation to casinos is A man gets his head cut off in a slaughterhouse This means that the stupid customer’s account will be inflated with various tricks and crushed as much as possible. One of the most important topics in masculinity studies today is the unnecessary suffering that men experience as a result of their constant struggle against themselves and each other, as well as what they inflict on women. Pinar Celik explains this succinctly: To be a man in large groups He says and adds Masculinity oppresses men more than others. We also encounter a similar theme in the writings of Serpil Sancar and Nadir Mater on masculinity.
Because provincial men spend and waste in a carnivalesque manner while playing the role of the rich, the lover, the prostitute, and the bully, in fragments that promise the reassurance of modernity. Casino equipment depends on this.
***
So, of course, this Ukrainian woman is full of anger towards men. He is full of rage, not only against the people of the Angara, but also against the people of Chernobyl, against a social service system that measures disability inch by inch and turns people into garbage, and everything else. His flirtatious looks are his sharp knife.
It’s okay even if those looks aren’t there. It has happened and is happening, but this process becomes more painful for men.
But the cheerful Ukrainian woman is no longer the little girl waiting for her mother as she tries to get help from the Social Services Service, nor is she the teenager caught in the crossfire of Ukrainian fascists and Putin’s tyranny. The Angara has a facial expression sharper than the teeth of a Komodo dragon, the nights will be bloody, and the Angara people will be beheaded. A woman who plays with an air spoon will cry at least for a while in the limousine, not on the tram, and more on that later. Because, as Pushkin said, the woman who played the spoon was brought here by Caucasian feudal lords and killed by making it look like a duel.He did not come on his own, nor on the back of a noble horse“(3).
Notes:
(One) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4uPDfuC3Jck
(2) Adriana Petrina’s work, Exposed Lives, explains in great detail how the BioCitizenship Initiative deals with post-Chernobyl Ukraine.
(3) Song Diary The melody of Pushkin’s poem “The Unknown Country” is as follows: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2HRZpytAmB4