Montag, 21. Oktober 2013



And then, just from thinking about it, weak me, I couldn't help to pass a giggle, so in fact I didn't say anything, I just giggled, and the door opens and as he walks by me and into a huge room full of half-built sofas Bono touched me with this look that I can only describe as benevolent, as if he actually was forgiving me for being nervous in his presence, as if he was saying, "It's ok my child, it's ok to be nervous, after all, I am The Bono", and he goes out first, followed by the girl, who looks at me with a funny smile while twisting the corners of her mouth downwards and moving her plucked eyebrows up and down like Groucho Marx, and then the fat guy, who blinks at me and presents me an accomplice smirk, like saying, "Yup, all in a New York minute! (now you can go and die!)" and the door closes and opens again one floor up and I'm out into the Colombian upholstery shop and, oh boy, am I excited, and I say, "Hola señoras" (because it's an all-woman shop full of Colombian and Mexican ladies in their mid-fifties) "You wont believe whom I've just met in the elevator!", and they all look very interested, because, who knows, maybe it was Vicente Fernández!, but nope, what I say it's: "Bono!", and they all look really puzzled. "Bono Vox!", I say, and they start looking at each other, twelve or fifteen of them ladies, looking disconcerted, as if my riddle was something they were supposed to know about but just don't (which is Ex-Act-Ly what's happening): "Bono Vox from You-Too!"... "El Bono de Ooo-Dos!!!". Nothing, there's no reaction but some sideways head shaking. They just don't have a single clue about who the Bono is Vox, have never heard of the band, and that's all.
Another time I saw Willem Dafoe buying a pint of celery juice on Houston; another time I saw Iggy Pop paying for a package of noodle and a box of tea at a Chinese super- market on Canal, and pretty much that and an apartment lease with a ten year-old price tag on it is all I've got for spending all these many millennium years of nonsense in that shithole town that never dreams.

Montag, 7. Oktober 2013



And then it happened, when I suddenly remembered, from all the Bono scheißstock we involuntarily keep in our heads and from the myriad of bad jokes my friends and I had made about it, none but the South Park episode where a perfect rendering of Bono –looking like a carbon copy of how he does at that very moment– temporarily impedes Randy Marsh (another unimportant character, like Bono) to remain holder of the world record for the largest bowel movement (which means, yes, he has dropped the biggest crap-pile in the history of the fever to keep records on world records) and demand the title back to him after interrupting the official awarding ceremony –held by the American govern- ment on the lawns of the white house– and coprophilias/ phobias apart maybe the funniest part comes when Bono's own pirate TV signal appears onto the two huge screens showing the ceremony over the heads of a cheering crowd and he says, "Hello, I'm Bono" and the mere sound of his name seems to be attached, and followed, by a mini video edit –really just a couple of seconds long– of apparently all of those Bono images we've had to see over and over for the burnzillionth time and over, as the fly, the cowboy, the space guy, the upside-down dude, along the Pope, Greenpeace, Gorbachev, Bishop Tutu, Winnie Mandela, Mother Theresa, George Bush, Lula Da Silva, The Queen, Sting –you name it!– and always behind the glasses (for he says "he's allergic to flashes”, he-he, "he's got very sensitive eyes") in pink, yellow, baby-blue et cetera, and, because I remember in the end of the show it turns out Bono had set the record in 1960, his year of birth, and through an outlandish South Parkish twist we learn Bono is actually a turd (I like much better the word kakkewurstli) which has being raised as a boy, being that the ultimate reason why through all his life, in spite of his reach of fame and the performing of all his humanitarian campaigns, he's been able to remain looking "like such a piece of shit" (!) and I thought of telling him –as the elevator started breaking for his exit on the sixth– "You were great in South Park!"