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Cutting to the chase, a few weeks after Eugene the Gypsy’s Rio gigs with Gogol Bordello before moving on for the rest of their South American tour, he suddenly invited me to join him for a few gigs in Moscow and Kiev, Ukraine, his hometown.

He’d been telling me about it for some time now, and now seemed like just the right time — especially since I already had a long hankering to visit that part of the world. I also wanted to check out a lady who had been talking about trying to translate one of my books into Russian there. So I decided to finally take Eugene up on his offer.

After two weeks of near-psychedelic beurocratic red tape hassles with the Russian Consulate here in Rio over visa requirements, which can best be described as insane, like all beurocratic rituals, I finally got my Russian Visa, and later the same day, left the golden sands of Copacabana for a 24 hour plane trip to Moscow.

To sum it up in a few words, I’d have to say, Moscow sucked, and Kiev was a gas. Here’s a few scraps and details from that brief, dreamlike trip, along with the odd rant for your reading entertainment…..

Moscow. Tuesday 1 December

Nobody washes their cars in Moscow. But they are still much smarter and far more resourceful than people in most other places. Every car, you see, is basically an unofficial taxi cab here.

Since most people are broke in Russia – like most other places living under the boot-heels of the Global Bankster cartel — all you need to do is walk to the curb and put your hand out. Generally the first unwashed car that passes will stop and gladly drive you wherever you want to go. Anything to make a few quick ruples, when not peddling their Babushka’s old undies in the Metro.

Why are people in other parts of the world so stupid and unimaginitave to not embrace such simple, innovative little concepts as these for making ends meet in tough times?

The more I see of Russia, the more I feel as if I could fit right in here. Brutal Capitalism in the wake of Soviet repression. Hmmm. Lawless times calling for lawless measures.

Just did a very strange interview on Russian TV. In Spanish!! I felt just like Che Guevarra. For a minute. Until the stupid questions began falling on my weary, jet-lagged ears like Cherinobyl acid rain!

The whole surreal experience has got me thinking though.

The more I live with the ”public” aspect of this writing gig, the more I am reminded of the sad fact that most people are like fucking vampires… Especially if might have something to say or do which may affect them in a larger sense than just going to the supermarket or wanking yer log at the bank.

First there was Aaron, the wannabe documentary film director who went on an ego-driven one way trip to hell, disappearing into thin air with hundreds of hours of footage he’d shot with me, including extensive in-depth interviews of me and some of my closest friends like Joe Coleman and Jim Jarmusch. May that creepy little bastard rot it hell!

But that was just a preview of things to come, apparently. The sad truth is that they’re everywhere! Vampires abound on the dubious road to fame and glory, believe me! Either they wanna run ya down to their own mediocre level of existance, or they try to outright destroy you AND your work, mostly out of pure envy, spite or just plain meaness. Even the less malevolant ones still want to get their fangs into your neck and have a good little suck just for fun. Especially the “fans.” Don’t get me started…

No wonder people like some of my more famous brothers feel a need to build bullet-proof walls around their lives and festoon them with electrified barbed wire, elite sinper squads and roving packs of blood-thirsty Rottweilers!

Even from down here in the stinking, bloody trenches of “Underground” art, I would gladly do the same — but I’m on a budget. So I must resort to the poor man’s Security System: Rudeness. Sometimes it works out…

Communists

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