Joker vs. Batman


Which one is bad? Which one is good?
A man who laughs? Or a rich man who knows martial arts?
Firstly, laugh not bad act. Colourful clothes, childish but sensitive. His painted face may look horrible, but also may not. Irresponsible parents and not a crime of the child. If his dad cut his cheeks, he is innocent. Asylum doesn’t where bad people visited. The mad clown robbed the bank, but later? The clown distributed the money to charity. He is kinda like Robin Hood. His genius comes from madness. His jokes aren’t funny? Ok, I agree. Sometimes his jokes can be disturbing. But if life is a short joke, you turn to be a mad.
That sounds like nihilism.

Let’s get to know the so-called hero. The one and only son of a rich family. Living in a mansion. Good study. Wearing beautiful clothes. But one day a thief killed his parents. Why did the thief steal? He needed money. What people have money more than they need? The rich ones. Go ahead and take a cup of tea. He learned martial arts. On top of the mountain. He wears a mask, a black costume. Fighting against the criminals. Ok, somebody punishes the criminals. Does a rich man effects the lives of poor people?
We don’t play the thief-police.
Both can’t choose how they were raised.

Joker vs. Batman

Democratic Raccoon


All the leaves are brown and the sky is grey. Sounds of the leaves, trees and songs of the swallows… Sometimes a wind comes, silence awaits when it goes. It’s not an ordinary autumn day. Like the ones showed in movies and tv shows or written by a poet. Real autumns are as fucking boring as politicians. I have a friend who is a politician. He wanted to see me again because his leadership ego finished. He welcomed me near the dirty river. Crocodiles and frogs left the river years ago. They moved to city canalizations to live a better life. Although all of these, he’s chosen by all animals. But nowadays nobody behave him like a president.
I am talking about my old friend. Raccoon Ricky.
He gave everything up to wear a tie. Because the animals immigrated to cities. There are just old animals in the jungle. Years ago he defeated the Kingdom of Lion. Lion was a bad president. Everyday he was sitting and some animals sacrified for him. He was managing the Jungle with nature laws. Coyotes were helping him. But one day a rebel was started. Raccoons, crocodiles, bee colonies, bears, flamingos, tigers, monkeys…
They wanted to make changes. Renewed hope brings changes, but they didn’t realise… The changes came but now Ricky doesn’t want to be a president anymore. Now he wants to be free.
First rule of a raccoon.
– Everybody should believe the excellence of justice
But after a gazelle was killed by a lion everything changed and almost all animals left the Jungle. Lion was hungry and couldn’t find any food. After this happening, the family of the gazelle have gone to law. Killer lion paid the cost of being free. Money talks. Money brings justice. The animals aren’t rebelling anymore. They don’t pay the tax. They don’t need any services of the Jungle.

Ricky says “I didn’t want to be like a mafia organization”. Now they live as they wish. No government, no money, no justice. One day a rabbit lawyer told me what justice is.
“If you build the biggest courthouse of the world, it doesn’t mean the government has the best justice. A book filled with millions of rules by some educated animal doesn’t mean that the best laws of the world are in this book.”
Ricky is sad because he wanted to work as a president everyday. He is sad because he wanted to dance as he wished, without official wearing. He is sad because he wanted to play like little raccoons. He is sad because he wanted to live the lovely feelings of all creatures.
The jungle doesn’t need a president. The bees share with pleasure their own honey with the bears in the caves. Bears pick up flowers near the rivers to give to the bees. No problem, no fight. They’re in peace.
Some of the animals just live between home and work. They work and get some money. They think about this question. Working for what? They decide to serve for whom and what.
Life isn’t fair and some creatures make it more unfair. Democracy or justice are never a friend of equality. Who created democracy? Somebody needed to get more and more…
The unlucky raccoon is the sacrifice of democracy. He lost his own freedom.
Politicians can’t be free.

Democratic Raccoon

Stairway to Heaven


I’ve taken my place on my bed. Suddenly door of room opened and a young guy entered. He was shining just like sun. We’ve started to chat like friends. He’s talking with my brother, I was washing my hands and looking to the mirror in toilets. After 8 hours sleeping and 5 hours wandering in the city I had needed to feel relax. I made my hair and back to room. Because there were a few sexy Polish chick. I was sure there were another girls too. Which boy doesn’t want to seduce a beautiful Polish girl? Only gays may be…
I entered the room and met another guy. My brother’s talking with them. First guy from Ireland and second guy from Brazil. St. Patrick and Sao Paulo. Some meeting and talking about football and they had gone. I was chilling on bed and asked to my brother.

I: Can we find the Jesus in Krakow?
B: Fuck off. I need to rest.
I: But we met Saints.
B: You don’t believe in God. What the fuck Saints?
I: You’ll go to hell.
B: Go to market, I am hungry.
B: Don’t forget to buy Pilsner! (He shouted)
I: Oookeeey

I was in street and beside of hostels door. I heard loud voice on my back “STRIP CLUB!! TWENTY GIRLS! CHAMPAGNE!”
I didn’t look even. Because I remembered those Saints. They had wings and bright faces.
I back to room and brought sandwiches and beers to my brother. We’re eating. Suddenly, door opened and St. Patrick shouted “omg! I visited worse Strip club until now”. He was telling his strip club adventure like a comedian. I was thinking “what a Saint! God must allow his sins.” And he said “Hey fellas are you going to come to pub crawl tonight?” I was surprised and accepted. How could I reject this kind offer? He is a saint! I can go to heaven if I’d live like him!
In the evening, I and my bro went to the market. We’re searching good beers. Poland must have good beers but we couldn’t find which beer we want to drink. A fog and a light. Sao Paulo came to market. Nobody understood that he came. Just I and my bro would have see him. He recommended a blue beer. He said “Other beers awful, you should try this. I missed to drink Brazilian drinks” he bought own beer and gone.
We started to drink on front of hostel. People were coming. I saw a guy with Native American eyes. He was talking with my bro. All party members were walking to the tram. I was talking about girls with St. Patrick. My bro called me and I met that Native Indian eyed guy. He will have been our best friend in Krakow but we didn’t know this yet. We’ve met just for 10 minutes. His name is James. Looks like cool as James Dean. He has a vodka bottle on his hand and dancing always. All night he drank this bottle and danced. Tram came and we got on. Music, drinks, girls… Everything was awesome. Like a heaven.
St. Patrick was wandering between people and meeting always to new people. I was drinking fourth bottle of beers and I felt my head like a stone but I was feeling brave that’s why I started to dance and talk with a brunette Polish girl. Katarina. Kasia. Katzaryna. I didn’t know her name. But it starts Ka… I put my hand on her shoulder and met with my bro but she didn’t like me. Finally tram was stopped. Pee break. Oh I can’t tell how much I felt good with fresh air. Smoke of cigarettes makes me awful but it works sometimes. When I piss, I sing “rambla pa ti rambla pa ja es a la rumba de barcelona” or Gypsy Kings songs. I tried to piss between trees but there were two girls who speaks in Spanish. I shouted “hey Espantoso girls I am shying because of you are very close to me! Go please!” and we started to talk. I don’t remember what they asked to me but I was speaking good Andalucian accent and I understood that they’re from Catalonia. Probably they liked me. I was pissing and talking with them unwittingly. I finished the pee break and when little girl walk to the train, I said “high five!” and she shouted “noooo! you touched it!” I convinced her “noooo! I pissed without touch”. Girls believe me quickly because I seem very innocent. Although how I seem, I swear I didn’t touch it. She laughed and told something to other girl. They asked my name and we met. I don’t remember the name of little one but I remember other pierced lips girl. Paula. Till’ we arrive to first bar, she was mine. I stolen her by a German guy. It was stupidly theft. That German guy has a friend and he was shouting Turkish swear words. I heard those words and went to him. By the way, his name is Felix.

F: Son of bitchess! Fuck your ass! Fuck your mom! (he was saying these in Turkish like a German metal vocalist)
I: What’s your name bro? Ahsooo all what you said. Your pronounce awful, you should be more kind when swearing just you need true mimes.
F: I’m from Köln. I’ve maaany Tuuuukish freeeend. (he was really drunk…)
I: Ok meun freund. Keep calm and say not “orospu çocuku” you should say “orrrospu çocuğu” ok?
F: Orrospu çocuuu!
I: Strong r man! Strong r!!
F: Orrrrrrospu çocuuuuuu! Do you know German swear words?
I: Arschloch!
F: Strooong man! Arrrsschhloch!
I: Arrrsschloooch!
F: Let’s drink to all assholes
I: Let’s drink to all son of bitches.
I&F: Salut!
I: Who is that guy? (I am asking that boy who wants to fuck Paula)
F: My friend. Hey …. german german german….. he is my new friend.
I: Sieg hell bro! (Left handed Nazi style)
F: Mein freund, you shouldn’t talk like that we’re in Krakow. People can fuck us.
I: Über alle Deutcchland! I am not German. This is your problem.
and Paula heard our silly chat. I guess he was bored of that German guy.
I: Hola Paula. Que la que?
P: Hola cutie ….spanish spanish spanish….
I: I don’t know Spanish, I need a teacher.
P: But I am not teacher.
I: Bueno, what are you? (nobody know Cem Yılmaz at tram)
P: I am actress.
I: Heeey that’s wonderful. I need an actress.
P: Yeah, and you?
I: I am independent director. Short moviemaker. But I can be Julio Iglesias tonight.
P: ….spanish words…. (I guess, she thought that I am so romantic <3)
I:  Blablablabla (damn! I really said blabla…) Would you like to play on my movies? We can be famous just like Tarantino and Uma Thurman. (I am so romantic cuz’ thinking this —  3<)
P: Blablabla (damn! she liked it) Ohh do you like Tarantino? My favorite director is Pasolini!
I: Sodom!
P: Gomorra! (she’s taken my bottle)
I: Blablabla (I really didn’t know what I’m gonna say)
P: I liked you!
I: Gracias! wait I’m gonna take a bottle.
and I back to her with two bottles.
P: I missed you.
I: Honey, I’m glad to hear that. Why don’t you sit on my knees? You’ll be my actor.
P: If you want to fuck tonight, you should tap your bottle like that. (she showed a drink move)
I’ve done the same move…
Until now she is the third Paula from Spain who I’ve met. Without cause, I have met three girl from Spain and all of them Paula. Coincidence….
I wanted to take a cigarette and she gave it. I learned that she will be an actress. I have a diploma about cinema. Can’t I be a short movie maker? Of course, I can be just for one night. We talked about Passolini, my favorite actress’, her favorite directors and movies. I haven’t directed any movie except at university but I was her favorite director at this night.St. Patrick was wrestling with a boy and jumping like a rabbit in tram. He jumped and joined to chat with a girl “Hey bro are you having fun? Who is this angel?”  and supernatural something happened. We’re at nightclub. But I didn’t see Paula. But almost all hostel was at there. Then, I found two Ukrainian girls through St. Patrick. We chatted at outside almost a hour about Jack London, philosophy, why they are in Poland, war in Ukraine, my Ukrainian friends. In the end, I was thirsty and  wanted to go back to the club for drink something. I kissed them and say “We’ll never meet again probably, have perfect life and live it!” and I left them.
In the club, St. Patrick was playing drinking games with other boys and girls. He was slapping our chests… I joined them but I was bored quickly. Again I went to outside. I found James, Luke, Etienne and my bro. I taught them what “alone man” means in Turkish. They learned very quickly that easy word. “Sap” in Krakow streets 4-5 guys we’re saying “Sap! Viva Sap! We’re sap!”
We’ve lost each other. My bro and James were with me. We walked to hostel for sleeping. My bro’s gone to sleep. James had flu. His throat was terrible because of cigarette although he didn’t smoke. I was reading my book. Kerouac. Good choice for travel. I finished the book. I don’t remember what about we talked. Time was passed 5:00 AM. Sun was shining.
I’ve gone to bed. Sao Paulo and my bro were sleeping like a drunk. I slept.
At 7:30 I opened my eyes. St. Patrick was messaging on phone. He said “good morning” and showed his chest. Purple and finger marks… I said “oh man go get some sleep”.
He’s lost his wings. In the room, thousand of white furs on the floor.
But we had been in heaven…
Stairway to Heaven