Kristof schrijft over cultuur in en rond Gent. Vooral over muziek maar ook politiek, hedendaagse kunst, film, techniek, theater en literatuur komen soms aan bod.
Kristof is working as a freelance C++ Mac developer in Belgium, using his one man company.
Deze blog is gemaakt met TextMate, YAML en wat eigen PHP-scriptjes. De titel van deze blog is ontleend aan een een nummer van The Evil Superstars.
Wie me persoonlijk wil mailen kan terecht op kristof at dit domein.
© Kristof Van Landschoot 2004-2010
Walking down Eddy Street... A black guy is shitting in public, it looks like a bad case of diarrhea to me, but I don't dare or don't want to look any closer. A black guy is buying drugs from a black woman. I can see the merchandise changing owner, but I wouldn't be able to say whether it was crack or heroin or coke or something else. A black guy, or is it a black woman, is sleeping on the street, his or her feet uncovered by the sheets, his or her belongings in a supermarket trolley. Further up, on Eddy Street, a black guy is harassing a latino woman, but she isn't screaming hard enough, so she is not getting raped, she can't be getting raped, or at least I can't get involved.
I am coming down from the developer conference at the Moscone Center in the Financial district. Like a business man, having accidentally booked the wrong hotel, on the wrong side of the city. I keep my face down, I concentrate on looking straight, I walk firmly. How do you blend in if you are a welthy white guy in a poor black neighborhood and you are carrying a laptop case? I will drop of my bag in my hotel room, just around the corner down on Eddy Street, and I will walk further up, to Fillmore street. A night shop is crowded with young black loud girls, fighting over who saw the black guy first, but it doesn't seem to be an argument of the violent kind. Black kids are playing basketball. A black guy is passing in a pimped up car, if he would rise the volume level one unit his car would fall apart. A guy is dancing to a McDonalds commercial from a radio station, his eyes unfocused like he's from another planet. "All cracked up" is the expression they use around here, I think.
Walking down on Eddy street, and I can't help but thinking: this is where Massive Attack must have recorded the "Unfinished Sympathy" video clip. I'm all stuffed with food they served me at the WWDC, there was more than 4000 developers could eat. I am walking down this street because it leads to Fillmore Street, and that's where I want to see this band I like. Reaching the venue, a black guy sells me a ticket, illegally. I bargain and get a ticket for only 7$ above the official price. After all, it is sold out and this is probably the closest to making an honest living this guy is ever going to get. I pay and get inside, go to ATM and get some extra cash. The Editors are playing a beautiful set, the crowd is loving it, and afterwards I buy the CD.
Walking back down Eddy Street, there's only some vomit on the sidewalk to help me remember: I am on the lucky side of society. I can afford the WWDC, I can afford a concert at The Fillmore. I can afford walking down Eddy Street, in the middle of the night.
The legendary fillmore club (wikipedia gives a bitter history overview) where the editors played