Andy Warhol was obsessed with celebrity culture and the world's attempt for their 15 minutes of fame. Little did he know where this obsession would actually go.

To the sky, along with your 6 year old apparently.

The BBC recently put out an article about the reality TV parents (they had a lot of experience in it) who "sent up" their little boy in a balloon, (but not really) just for the media attention.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8323936.stm

The desperation seems pathetic and awkward, but the self in the eyes of the other is stronger than ever. Facebook. Twitter. Linked in. All of these networking sights are tickling our self obsessions by "Making us famous to 15 people," according to David Weinberger, American Technologist and professional speaker. Mr. Weinberger, I have 1,196 friends on Facebook. I think your statement is false.

Talk about self-obsession.

Regardless, I am not as interested in the self-obsession as I am the media coverage itself, why people convene around things like STAR or PEOPLE, or even Entertainment Tonight or Inside Edition. Self-obsession is only fueled by the fact that people are willing to indulge that person (or couple). Most people say, "Well those people who watch those shows have no lives or nothing special about themselves." I disagree. The people who watch these shows watch them, in my opinion not just to be "In the loop" of "current events" but also because they find something analogous to those absurdities in their own lives. The fear of having a child carried away by a hot air balloon makes the housewife look nervously for her toddler as he is actually eating glue (while mommy figures out who Brad Pitt is fucking). The reality TV shows like Big Brother makes the college roommates reflect on their own drama, after they have just walked in on their boyfriend with another suitemate.

These shows about stars or novelties just remind us of ourselves. We see that people can get famous for the most absurd of reasons, perhaps because we can see ourselves in them.... and maybe the hope remains... we too can be on TV.

Theater and Migros: One More Day of Stalling

Okay, one more day of procrastination in recapping Ivy EME Istanbul edition, I promise. 

Today I had a taste of some student Theater at Istanbul University. One of my co-workers offered to take us to a production his friends were putting up. Naturally, you didn't have to tell me twice. Yes, I'm a natural skeptic, but I usually don't say no. 

So we go to one of the oldest parts of Istanbul, Edgar is about to pee himself with excitement about the comparative literature department's history at IU. The production was called, "Encounter With the Same Kind," a student written and directed production out of the British Literature Majors. The premise: Mrs. Dalloway (who I am in real life, remember?) is throwing a party for Alice in Wonderland, Eve, the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, Ophelia, Elizabeth Bennet, and Antoinette Bertha. 

Now, I will not remark on the acting, the staging, or any of the technical theatrical elements--this is not what this play was about... (even though my co-worker called it "experimental" and decided to buy roses for Mary Magdalene... awww). No. I was more interested in the fact that I was in Istanbul, watching a play in English, put on by Turkish students, in semi-understandable English, by English majors, with obvious sexual innuendo, exaggerated sexual metaphors, Christian symbolism, and a Mary Magdalene with orange hair who gets together with Mrs. Dalloway at the end. They definitely took the symbolism in the text a little too literally, which I took as a reflection of how literature is taught to them in a systematic and rehearsed manner--pardon the pun. The all girls nature reminded me of a poor, but sincere attempt at "Top Girls." 

I was waiting for Ophelia to drown herself but voila, the play was over. I took some time to walk around and notice that Istanbul University has an affinity for Brecht. There were about 4 different plays they have done about, by, or a la Brecht. Where is the Turkish Theatrical tradition? 

So after our theater jaunt, I ran into a bus to Sisli, where I got off at a Migros (yes, I thought it was Swiss, but apparently Koc owned it too). There, I dropped a fair amount on Special K, milk, cheese, and Halva, along with face cream and lotion to last the rest of the summer---I have not had any of these for about 3 weeks and missed them so much. In the process, I found "GUSTA" beer. So speaking of Theater and "Conversations With My Father," *ahem* this was a very theatrical day. 

Interjection: My Intellectual Sexy Time

Pardon the sketch title, but I honestly cannot describe my academic and pseudo-spiritual euphoria right now. 

In lieu of discussing the summit today, I am going to jump ahead to the future of my narrative, i.e. the past: today. 

After a lovely day at Toplum, working and making some entrepreneurial connections and chatting with the founder (as well as preparing for the Gala on Wednesday... C-List celebrities and paparazzi much!), I did some Taksim exploring with Edgar, my lovely co-worker. 

Now there are some things you need to know about my current life and mental state. 

1) I am working with Edgar, who is a lot like me, yet nothing like me. While we are both, shall we say... bold? he is more direct while my style is more sublimated. We both do what we want though and say what we feel. Thank god. Edgar, while being a Salvadorian powerhouse, is also the kind of intellectual and literary expert who could kick your ass in anything. MUNTY much? As a result, our conversations are charged with---well, not intellectual masturbation--but some sort of sincere academic intensity, always with the Hyperbole lock ON. 

2) I am reading a lot of Buber, I-Thou, Utopia kind of things (Campanella too). Not to mention writings on Political theology, World Bank summaries on Education, Turkish and Ottoman history, and... of course... the Qu'ran. 

3) I drink about 12 cups of tea a day. 

Naturally, my mental state is biting, sharp, intellectual to the extreme, and informed--a sort of A-Game I haven't felt since maybe my Donne essay in High school. So, you can only imagine what I felt when walking through Taksim, the heart of the city, and then I find an old antique book store. 

At Denizler Kitabevi, the Pearl of the Pera (www.denizlerkitabevi.com) They sell maps, pins, rare books, and they had a kickass old version of Madame Bovary in the original French (Edgar liked it more--I detest Madame Bovary). 

And guess what I find? Just imagine my two favorite things in a single book. 

Modern Egyptian Drama ed. Farouk Abdel Wahab. 

Yes my friends, everything I love in one. The introduction was so fabulous that I read the entire thing while holding my 15 pound laptop bag. The owner eventually said, "I'm going to have to charge you more if you like that so much." In response, I said, "Well, I hate this book and want nothing to do with it." "Okay, for that, I give you discount." 

We became friends. Turns out he taught himself Ottoman Turkish at the age of 45. His best friend is head of Harvard's Middle Eastern Studies Department. This guy is connected and intelligent. He gave me his business card (as many Turkish people do---I LOVE business cards) and he invited to show me some of the old maps they have (along with cigars and tea). Honestly, this place is a diamond in the rough.

At that moment, I wanted to just stay in Turkey for part of my life, studying Ottoman Turkish, Persian Drama, and Islam, sit on a balcony and watch people go by as I drink 15 teas and 5 turkish coffees a day with some baklava, write about what I see and think and then go to Cairo and do it there. 

So what do I do after my academic, spiritual, life encounter? I walk down narrow streets of amazing stringed instruments, run into an arts fair (with rich hipsters galore), share some wine Edgar bought and muse on my future as a leading expert in Utopian philosophy/history, Arab Drama and Islam.  

I love Istanbul.