A golem can consist of fruity earth or toxic shit
'Dog Tales' series, 4th episode (1st episode - 2nd episode - 3rd episode)
By Fashionoffice's publisher Karin Sawetz
Marc Cabana appears in my dream like this strange creature once born nearby Vienna, in Prague. 'Golem' is the name of this creature and entered the colloquial language as expression for a dumb person.
fig.: The image shows me at the orangery at Schloss Hof in Austria nearby the border to Slovakia.
I ask him: "Are you a golem?"
Marc Cabana: "I don't know the word 'golem'."
"Aren't you Viennese?"
Marc Cabana: "I'm Viennese, but I've rarely contact with people whose families have Viennese or Austrian roots."
"A golem is a creature by a magician (in the original story by a religious man) and acts as an extension of the creator; a sort of double or willingness servant. Expressed with IT-language: it can be a positively acting bot or it can be a sort of malware on a zombie-computer - both can be programmed and even when the job is dirty, the hands of the programmer keep clean."
Marc Cabana's visual appearance changes; the fruity, earthy surface of his body begins to die like in a stop motion animation - hacked into single images - and transforms with softly moving pictures from decomposition to liquid shit which firms and becomes earth again.
Marc Cabana: "So it's not the golem who is good or evil?"
"No, such as in your case. You're only the vessel of the hidden activities of others. You're the one who has others' dirt on his hands when you act evil. And it isn't repulsive for you because you're made of the same material - dirt! Yes, really. I must say this now: you're actually a piece of shit. Take a look at you!! Disgusting!"
Marc Cabana stands there and a roll of shit grows out of the middle of his body.
I'm pointing at the developing shit-roll. "Don't you see. You're constantly producing more of you. Aren't you ashamed?"
MC: "I only do my job."
"This argument doesn't clean up your programmed evil character - at least not the shit-roll which has just fallen down here to the pedestrians' road - and you haven't even recognized it! Unbelievable! I'm happy that I'm only dreaming!"
MC: "And I'm happy that I've not too much to do with Viennese like you in reality." Marc Cabana looks at me with eyes which he rolls meaningful half under his lids. He spits on the sidewalk.
"Do you enjoy your appearance in my dreams?"
MC (smiles): "Yes."
"Do you know that our behaviour is built upon experiences. Do you know that even your spit on the pavement leaves a trace in my memory about me and you, about our relation? Are you aware that one impression after the other is building our consciousness and our senses are sharpened by them?"
MC (laughing): "Yes, I count on this mechanism."
"This is what I wanted to hear from you. I assumed this attitude before; that's the reason why I included you into my dreams where I'm the ruler. Reality happens in comparison to dreams rather linear. Sometimes dreams come true. Do you remember the last 'Dog Tales' story?"
MC (thoughtful): "Did it play in Venice? I like the name you gave me: Marc after Piazza San Marco and Cabana inspired by the pavilions at the Giardini. Actually, it had a lot to do with my real life. I don't feel integrated into this society here in Austria such as many of the people I'm working with."
"Is this the reason why you're trying to set vandalism acts against Austrians in the framework of the law?"
MC: "Probably."
"I will end the 'Dog Tales'-series with this short dream conversation. Now we both know the material you're made of - perhaps we'll meet again in my dreams but I can live without you. I'm sure in this point we're d'accord, aren't we!"
I begin to laugh over my whole face. My heart beats lightly, full of joy and instantly my soul feels so warm as if a heavenly sun shines on my chest.
"We have here in Austria in some months again a government election. I will keep an eye on you and the other golems in our administration."
By Fashionoffice's publisher Karin Sawetz
Marc Cabana appears in my dream like this strange creature once born nearby Vienna, in Prague. 'Golem' is the name of this creature and entered the colloquial language as expression for a dumb person.
fig.: The image shows me at the orangery at Schloss Hof in Austria nearby the border to Slovakia.
Marc Cabana: "I don't know the word 'golem'."
"Aren't you Viennese?"
Marc Cabana: "I'm Viennese, but I've rarely contact with people whose families have Viennese or Austrian roots."
"A golem is a creature by a magician (in the original story by a religious man) and acts as an extension of the creator; a sort of double or willingness servant. Expressed with IT-language: it can be a positively acting bot or it can be a sort of malware on a zombie-computer - both can be programmed and even when the job is dirty, the hands of the programmer keep clean."
Marc Cabana's visual appearance changes; the fruity, earthy surface of his body begins to die like in a stop motion animation - hacked into single images - and transforms with softly moving pictures from decomposition to liquid shit which firms and becomes earth again.
Marc Cabana: "So it's not the golem who is good or evil?"
"No, such as in your case. You're only the vessel of the hidden activities of others. You're the one who has others' dirt on his hands when you act evil. And it isn't repulsive for you because you're made of the same material - dirt! Yes, really. I must say this now: you're actually a piece of shit. Take a look at you!! Disgusting!"
Marc Cabana stands there and a roll of shit grows out of the middle of his body.
I'm pointing at the developing shit-roll. "Don't you see. You're constantly producing more of you. Aren't you ashamed?"
MC: "I only do my job."
"This argument doesn't clean up your programmed evil character - at least not the shit-roll which has just fallen down here to the pedestrians' road - and you haven't even recognized it! Unbelievable! I'm happy that I'm only dreaming!"
MC: "And I'm happy that I've not too much to do with Viennese like you in reality." Marc Cabana looks at me with eyes which he rolls meaningful half under his lids. He spits on the sidewalk.
"Do you enjoy your appearance in my dreams?"
MC (smiles): "Yes."
"Do you know that our behaviour is built upon experiences. Do you know that even your spit on the pavement leaves a trace in my memory about me and you, about our relation? Are you aware that one impression after the other is building our consciousness and our senses are sharpened by them?"
MC (laughing): "Yes, I count on this mechanism."
"This is what I wanted to hear from you. I assumed this attitude before; that's the reason why I included you into my dreams where I'm the ruler. Reality happens in comparison to dreams rather linear. Sometimes dreams come true. Do you remember the last 'Dog Tales' story?"
MC (thoughtful): "Did it play in Venice? I like the name you gave me: Marc after Piazza San Marco and Cabana inspired by the pavilions at the Giardini. Actually, it had a lot to do with my real life. I don't feel integrated into this society here in Austria such as many of the people I'm working with."
"Is this the reason why you're trying to set vandalism acts against Austrians in the framework of the law?"
MC: "Probably."
"I will end the 'Dog Tales'-series with this short dream conversation. Now we both know the material you're made of - perhaps we'll meet again in my dreams but I can live without you. I'm sure in this point we're d'accord, aren't we!"
I begin to laugh over my whole face. My heart beats lightly, full of joy and instantly my soul feels so warm as if a heavenly sun shines on my chest.
"We have here in Austria in some months again a government election. I will keep an eye on you and the other golems in our administration."
