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The Bedroom Fetish - Un petit dialogue by Ramojus Gineika -You said you have something to tell me… -Oh yes, I do. A puffed-up beauty cried yesterday that her nail broke and her manicurist is off duty on Sunday evenings. Her heart-breaking weep sounded throughout the street where she lived. And someone, just passing by, thought: “if all this tragedy is now for one nail…” -Yet, this nail was not so middle-class, you know. She paid a fortune for the woman she admired the most in her life to have two Swarovski’s on this nail, which sparkled from any source of light like no-one ever seen it before. Indeed, it helped her in various ways just showing this middle finger of her right hand, which in fact was the one with crystals. She even considered doubling the effect by simply adding a few crystals to the middle finger of her left hand. Now it was all ruined. For some moments she even thought of falling into a Great Depression, which, as she has heard, happened in the US. “Might there be a greater disaster?” she thought to herself, still weeping… -Still weeping? Come on, it was not all that bad, was it? -Oh yes, it was. There always was a dream of her to meet a prince on a white horse to take her to France, preferably to a villa a-la-Versailles on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. That is why she also liked her skin to be as brown as milk chocolate – not too little, but also not too much… -So she was an interesting person after all? -Oh yes, she was… Before that day. That day changed everything in her life and she realized something she longed to realize for so long. But you have to know something more about her beforehand. So she waited for this prince and had never, never stepped out of her small town. There were farm-lands all around, so she thought: “ok, there are farm-lands, so whenever I will go out of this township, I could be called a farmer” and then she shook her head in disbelief that someone could ever call her a farmer… It was unbearable only to think about it, not even mention in words. And so she lived, till one day she met her… -Who? -Her manicurist! A small woman in her fifties, who once lived in a big city and was still full of these dull stories big cities are proud of making. Let’s call her Eva, just to have a simple name. So Eva was the one who brought emptiness to already not so meaningful beauty. They were the ones to chat overnights in Eva’s salon, discussing things, from new lipsticks to new bed linen, freshly presented in Paris. Though it hardly could be called a dialogue – it was only a straight monologue, where our beauty just sat in disbelief of all those great things happening somewhere outside her kingdom of seventy nine houses, a church and a school. -The irony here is that the day she broke her nail was the last day of her manicurist. Sadly, our beauty only called her after Eva was already in morgue. Did she blame herself for calling too late? No, she blamed herself for being unaware of this piece of cloth, which suddenly took half of her polished-to-perfection nail. And she wept for being unable to show the crystals in the gathering of the whole township – the last journey of Eva… -Wait a second: so there is nothing she realized on that day? -Oh yes, there is! Always, always before crying be sure to have a make-over cleaner! 2007 Je Joue INSIDER|7
Music: by Eglë the New Type of Addiction Shower is not the first thing in the morning. Guess what! It is turning on the music. Some says - close your eyes and listen. Yeah sure, it is magic, but don't ever try that. The rules of this game are to open your eyes widely, take your walkman and experience the existence. You are turned on once you press the button “play”: it drives you crazy, makes you mad. Chill! It eases up. Just don't turn it down. Talk the lyrics, Live out what others are singing. They play with words; you are free to play with meanings. Hear the beauty, and the gloom. Some says we live in the synthetic world. Synthesizers all around and DJs mixing fancy minimal electro sounds. This is not natural, but do not take it as a junk. Take it easy. Try to feel the value. Don't mess around, be self-sufficient and understand what it's all about. It is about inventors of the music: Marilyn Monroe (I wanna loved by you – just you! Boop-boop-a-doop!), Mozart and Bach, the Doors. the girl from Ipanema. Vinnie the Pooh (kuda idiom my spitaciok…) You can invent it once more. Or you can consume it. Hear the passions of people; Watch jazzy pianist's fingers; Breathe in the sound of saxophone. This consumption is made of tunes, harmonies and beats. Paf paf pa boom! And it is no how related with consumer price indexes, not at all. You say – tickets, records, entrances and labels. I say – no. Music is never sold, it is free and priceless. Never mind if it's polished and sophisticated or flowing and ingenuous. It is African beats, Latino bossanova, American hip-hop, Russian pop, European classical and world-wide rock. And what if “you no longer hear the music of the gods around you”? Well… They say – in the long run we all are dead. But for now - harmonize your life and make the groove. And what if… If all this does not help – establish another record studio, build new concert hall and then make a lot of money. I mean, a LOT OF money. Sell it all out! 8|INSIDER Je Joue 2007 The Bathroom History of Nudity by Sofija Jurceva Anthropologists logically presume that humans originally lived naked, without clothing, as their natural state. They postulate the adaptation of animal skins and vegetation into coverings to protect the wearer from cold, heat and rain, or alternatively, covering may have been invented first for other purposes, such as magic, decoration, cult, or prestige, and later found to be practical as well. But what is the story like behind it? According to one legend, a runner at the Ancient Olympic Games named Orsippos of Megara discarded his loincloth and won his race. Another legend says that the loincloth accidentally fell off a runner at the Olympics, who tripped on it, struck his head, and died. So for reasons of either improved athletic performance or safety, from this date forward Olympic athletes competed naked. Other sources, however says that the beauty of body was among the admired aspects of culture, just as philosophy and art. That was the reason why athletes had to oil their body during the competitions. Suspectedly, that was also the reason why women were not allowed neither to participate neither to be spectators. In the 1st century AD refusing to wear clothes was considered a sign of insanity. It was nevertheless usual for workers such as field hands and fishermen to work unclothed. 1868 is the approximate date of the introduction of the swimsuit. Most swimming, if not all, was done naked up to this point because wearing clothing of any sort was extremely cumbersome and thus dangerous to the swimmer. During the Victorian era, public nakedness was considered obscene. In addition to beaches being segregated by gender, bathing machines were also used to conceal the naked body. In the early 20th century, exposure of male nipples was considered indecent at some beaches. Actually, it wasn’t until the late 20’s when men were allowed to appear topless in public places. Spring has definitely arrived to our oblivious of snow Riga. Some people were pretty suspicious of the first tickly sunbeams. Apparently those who weren’t have been annoying their course mates by coughing and sneezing throughout the whole April. At last the “springiest” month of the year is here to chase away Baltic chilliness, melt some icy hearts and spice up the everlasting question “how undressed is just enough?” The issue, however, is not fashion but contemporary art of attracting and undressing. Short skirts, uncovered shoulders, see-through shirts, revealing dresses, tight trousers. Apparently the society’s attitude towards partial nudity has changed greatly during the last century. He was sitting with his legs crossed. Wearing tight trousers and short red socks revealed his ankles. Back in Victorian times there was nothing more seducing for a man, than to catch a glimpse of women’s ankles. Are we going back to basics? Are we changing the gender roles? Should I lose my mind by the sight of those hairy legs?
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Page 8 and 9: Opinion article Let the Good Times
Page 10 and 11: Gossips They say that there were so
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Page 17: How holly is The Bedroom by Eglë O

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