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Fans
What is a fan? In Swedish, fan
is the devil. In Rohingya, fan
is a betel leaf. And in English? Is it a cooling device that through
quick movements of the wrist creates an airflow to prevent
perspiration, or is it the smallest individual component of a crowd
of followers - usually perspiring? Although anyone who has ever used
public transport will indubitably prefer the first, real fans (aka
the shouting, sweating adherents of herd behaviour) occur much more
frequently. The etymology is unclear. Although generally assumed to
derive from fanatic,
some dictionaries insist that the term was a corruption of fancy,
a term in boxing. It does not really matter - we will be capturing
the essence of a phenomenon here, we have no interest in splitting
hairs.
Let us take a minute to reminisce that sad day in February 1996 - it was the 13th - that our life lost its meaning once and for all. (No, it was not the day your first crush forgot to give you a Valentine's card and broke your thirteen-year-old heart. That was twenty-four hours later.) February 13th, 1996 was the day that - forgive me, I still find it hard to talk about it, let alone type out the letters... It was the day that
TAKE THAT SPLIT UP! THEY SPLIT UP!!! Just like that. First Robbie and now this! Oh my God, what AM I gonna do now???
Sorry about that. I warned you.
Anyway, since you are reading this, I take it that you, unlike many
others who chose to end their sad and sorrowful teenage existence,
are still alive. I am sorry I have to put it this bluntly, but you're
not a real fan. You're a fucking fake. A fake, man. Had you really,
really loved the boys as much as I did, you'd've been dead by
now. Yup. You'd've taken that lift, went straight up to the
fifteenth floor and jumped - right into Gary's arms. Or onto the
gravel in the driveway. Or whatever. But it's too late now. Your
cowardice got the better of you, and now it's too late to cop out.
(Aside to the lads: Oh come on, now. Don't tell me you weren't into Take That. Everyone was into Take That. Admit it already. Okay then, let us just assume you're telling the truth and Howie's dreadlocks really didn't do much for you; cause, if that's the case, there's only one more option: you're one of them beer-guzzling, football-watching, flag-waving blokes. Please forgive me the snide remark, but: Dynamo Dresden are not exactly playing the Premier League, are they? So why are you still alive?)
Still reading? Alright then. Mando Diao are just a bunch of whiny kids with guitars. Just because Amy Winehouse and Pete Doherty do drugs doesn't mean they've got talent. DaVinci wasn't half as brilliant as everyone says - seriously, the guy wrote backwards! The Beatles weren't so great either. I've got a lot more respect for Yoko Ono, to be frank. At least she's still alive - though unfortunately this is also true for Paul McCartney. And hell yeah, Das Parfum by Patrick Süskind is certainly not one of the most intriguing books I've ever read. Then again, I also think Shakespeare is a bit of a drag. Drag like boring, not like cross-dressing, if you get my gist. And the other stuff, like Derrida, Irigaray or Freud? Don't even get me started, Freudian slip my peachy arse.
Still here? Great. Then I've got news for you. Either, you're a
completely disengaged, brain-dead zombie, or you've secretly and
unknowingly developed a teensy-weensy bit of a fancy for With
Rhyme or Reason - our bestest ever, by the way. Don't
worry, it's quite normal for gullible people such as yourself to
obsess about one thing or the other. That's okay and only natural,
especially at your age.
Here's what you will do: You'll get yourself and your friends down to die bühne on Thursday, November 29th where you will get yourselves a drink to then patiently wait for the authors to arrive and read out their pieces on Fans (i.e. you). You may clap, shriek, have a hysterical crying fit or even fling around your underwear. Just no fainting, please.
Thank you.
die bühne opens at 19:30. The reading will be begin around 20:15.
For your relief, deep thought and delightful verse will be interspersed with uplifting music and alcoholic beverages. Admission is 1,00 Euro, the booze costs extra.
With Rhyme or Reason - Fans
How to be a fan
How to stop being a fan
