A depressing city. Everybody smokes. I overheard executives from phillip morris discuss the new round edged packaging of marlboro lights at the benihana restaurant situated in the howard johnson hotel. The bar at the ‘hojo’ is like a scene from a bad remake of the third man. A mancunian wideboy told me he was making 300 grand a year selling ringtones to the locals. He had to be in the country (in-country) just a few days a month to achieve this and oversee his company. I am at a loss to imagine what this would entail. The city is a huge building site. Somebody is making a lot of money. From what I could see very few of them were locals. The traffic was virtually gridlocked. It took hours to get anywhere. As late capitalism stutters towards endgame in the west, the further east we travel globalisation has injected capitalism with a frenzied energy, an overdeveloped sense of its own worth. I also learnt that the revolution of 1989 was no such thing, but an internal military coup dressed up to look like a peoples revolution, a situationalist event that shielded the real movers and shakers of the new romania from the liberal/fascist eyes and ears of the democratic west. I think the people making all the cash in town include these people. No doubt. Place is still a shithole whichever way you cut it.

I was there dirceting a TV commercial. As it says at the top of the page, will work for food.


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