Greetings
Welcome to what some of us call Bananaland. Let me introduce myself to you – they call me the Reaper and I’d like it if you kept the Grim out of the equation seeing as I don’t want to be on a first-name basis with you. I’ve been summoned by the stench of a decaying land and can only but see a very bright future in my line of business in the next couple of years. Beyond that, I can’t yet tell. It all depends on whether these Greek mortals manage to survive long enough to please my morbid appetite.
Yes indeed, Greece has managed to ruin itself, and the extent of this ruin has not yet hit deep enough. The process is slowly sinking in and seeping into every living entity like the canker Shakespeare once spoke of. It’s quite interesting to observe, I assure you.
What really makes me wonder is how many of you overseas denizens of the world actually realize what is going on here. How many of you have seen on TV or read in the papers anything pertaining to the situation here in the past six months? How many of you realize that half of what is being read out by dolled-up news anchors and printed on possibly recycled paper no one ever knows if it’s truly been recycled, is absolute hogwash?
Well, I’ve come to remedy this. I live in Greece. I keep my eyes and ears open to what your average layman is having to cope with these days and I’m pleased to say that life here is the pits. And, to be sure, if you’ve got the pits, the pendulum isn’t too far above that carotid, ever-swishing down closer to its succulent destination.
This column aims to give overseas readers and idea of what goes on in people’s minds here, not only in terms of the political or economic state of affairs, but about anything Greeks find worthy of discussion. At times it’ll make you chuckle, at times it should make you think about what others are trying to stuff down your throats. This column aims to catch that dying pulse of freedom in a land that once had much to offer, in a land where laughter would erupt at every corner. This column aims to capture moments and thoughts that pervade the collective consciousness of the Greeks and set it down in writing, regardless whether you agree with the opinions noted, because I’m taking pictures and when you take pictures you don’t agree or disagree with them. In short, this column hopes to leave some sort of chronicle of the impending tornado behind – preferably a chronicle of liberation rather than one of slow death.
The Reaper
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