SF in Budapest - History & Culture

iPod Update

nospam@example.com (SF) — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 00:12:00 -0700

Nicole asked if I could please add more Hungarian music to my iPod. OK Nicole I am happy to say that my iPod Shuffle with the inscription has been revised and I have a new top 10 with Hungarian music on it.

It's not ALL Hungarian... but it's an improvement!

CURRENT BUDAPEST RANKING

1. Yonderboi Padabam
2. Tiny Masters of Today Skeletons
3. Deastro The Shaded Forests
4. The Whip Frustration
5. Gelka Burlesk
6. B. Fleischmann 24.12
7. Anima Sound System Csillagtalan
8. Yonderboi Milonga Del Mar
9. Žagar Longing For Solitude
2. Yonderboi Tameless

I Dreamed That Obama Came to Hungary

nospam@example.com (SF) — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 07:09:50 -0700

The G20 Summit is happening this week. All the leaders of the big economic powers are in the EU for a big pow wow.

Last night when I went to bed I wondered if President Obama would come to visit Magyarország. I fell into a deep sleep and had visions...

I saw Obama in the morning in Buda, he had breakfast at Nagyi Palacsintazoja Pancake Háza. Kept asking for maple syrup.

Back in Pest, Obama's driver stopped the motorcade at the Katapult Kávézó and double parked so the President could jump out and buy a 16 oz. Latte. The guy behind the counter told him they were out of coffee but he could make him a powdered cocoa for 500ft. As Obama turned to leave, someone at a table by the door tried to sell him some extacy.

While Obama was getting a tour of the Parliament building, Fidesz leader Viktor Orbán passed him in the hallway but pretended he didn't see him.

Then up to Hösök Tére, where the USA delegation had lunch at Paprika Vendéglő after laying a wreath at the 1956 Memorial. The waitresses pushed together two big tables but there still wasn't room for Hillary, so they had to seat her in the non-smoking section by herself. Another waitress grabbed the lapel of Hillary's silk blazer between her thumb and forefinger, saying Ooooooh, de draga! right before she was tackled by 6 Secret Service agents.

Obama at the Szechenyi Baths, sitting in the water and playing chess with a retired lathe operator. Trying to get out of a jam after an ill-advised Nf3 / Nxe5 combination.

Then up to Eger where he and his press secretary toured the wineries. The Prez got a little sloshed after the third one because he didn't spit anything out during tastings.

In the evening, Obama gave a speech at Astoria with these big floodlights on flatbed trucks and a really cool podium with a banner that said SZERETLEK MAGYARORSZÁG! He somehow spoke fluent Hungarian. On the sidelines, about 12 or 13 Magyar Garda members sucked 1-liter cans of Soproni and blew police whistles.

All in all, quite a dream. Obama does really need to come to Hungary.

Káposztaleves

nospam@example.com (SF) — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 01:42:00 -0700

Káposztaleves - also known as Korhelyleves or "Hangover Soup" for it's restorative qualities after a night out in the kocsmak - is one of the world's greatest recipes. Sour cabbage soup with lots of paprika and 3 kinds of meat, topped off with a dollop of sour cream. IGEN!!!

To properly make this you need to buy fresh sour cabbage and the brine that it comes in from a local market that sells the two ingredients separately. Purchasing "sauerkraut" like this means the cabbage is a bit crisper, more like pickled cabbage, which holds it's texture better when you stew it in a soup. And buying brine as needed for your recipes, instead of having to rely on however much may be in the can of kraut you are using, is important too.

In spite of these ideal requirements, I have a recipe for this yummy soup that can actually be made outside of Hungary.

Káposztaleves

1 Tbsp Oil
5dg Smoked Pork or Bacon
50dg Ground Pork
1 diced Red Onion
2 Tbsps Tomato Paste
1 tsp Marjoram
1 tbsp Paprika
1tsp White Pepper

1 liter Chicken Stock
50dg Sauerkraut
2 cups sauerkraut brine/liquid
2 cloves Garlic
15dg Házikolbász (Hungarian "Home Sausage"; can substitute Sopressata or Salami)
Salt to taste

Brown bacon in heavy-bottomed pot. Add onion and cook till clear. Add ground pork and brown slightly. Add paprika, white pepper, marjoram and tomato paste and set aside.

Add chicken stock, sauerkraut, 1/2 the sauerkraut liquid, garlic and hálikolbász. Simmer for about 40 minutes.

Add, to taste, extra sauerkraut liquid, salt and parsley. Serve with sour cream and black pepper.

You can substitute ground turkey for the ground pork and a well-browned turkey kielbasa - chopped into small cubes - to cut down on the fat content. But that wouldn't be very Hungarian, now would it?

Hungarian Stamps

nospam@example.com (SF) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 00:13:00 -0800

Walking through the V district recently I stumbled upon a stamp shop with a galaxy of stamps from different eras of Magyar Posta history. I spent many minutes on the sidewalk in -6c temps spacing out on the inventory that they had mounted in the front windows.

I loved this one, so I had to buy it. It's a commemorative double 5 forint stamp block (back in 1975 when 5 forints meant something) marking 30-years of Hungarian progress and renewal.

National Museum: The History of Hungary, Pt. 4

nospam@example.com (SF) — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 00:48:00 -0800

The Hungarian National Museum's promenades and alcoves get more confusing as you approach their exhibits of the previous century, dizzying but a little hard to get a historical handle on.

The turn of the 20th century brought a cultural and commercial rennaissance to Hungary. Budapest in particular became so beautiful that despite the many blows it received to its grandeur from war damage and economic strife, many years later SF would go there and start an amazingly pretentious website extolling its virtues and awesomeness.

Then WWI, which pulled Hungary in on the side of their evil siamese twin, Austria, and they found themselves in a war against the French, British, Russians, Japanese, Australians, Indians and, eventually, the Americans. And anyone in the world still neutral said: good luck with that.

The aftermath of WWI brough the destruction of the Austro-Hungarian empire and the Trianon treaty which stripped Hungary of over half its land mass, doling out generous chunks of magyar territory to Slovakia, Romania, Slovenia and Yugoslavia. A new communist proletariat movement stirred the indignity of Trianon into a frothy red nationalist tide, which they body surfed into power under Leninist agitator Béla Kun. With the support of the army, they took control of the country and had the Donald Trumps of their day hiding under beds, wetting their pants in fear.

That didn't last long though. Around 1920 the old royalists and capitalist bigwigs dug up Regent Admiral Horthy, put him atop yet another mythic white Hungarian horse, and set him on the road to Budapest like some kind of embalmed Gary Cooper on his way to a rigged gunfight. Horthy put down the red rebellion with savage terror and genocide, and, with the revolution crushed, Horthy's post WWI Hungary became a sort of theme park for fascists of all stripes.

Ultimately the Hungarian leadership decided to ally themselves with Nazi Germany - a classically Hungarian bonehead move that ensured the land and its people would get the living shit kicked out of it by a totalitarian regime not just once but twice in the years to come, being occupied first by Nazi Germany and then the Soviet Red Army in the space of just 12 months.

Once the Soviets were there in 1945, they kicked off their shoes and stayed awhile. They set up a puppet government under Matyas Rákosi, who implemented Stalin-style terror tactics to stay in power. By the mid 1950s, the Hungarian people had enough of his monkeyshines and they rioted for free elections. Again they got their ass kicked, hard, by a half dozen of Nikita Khrushchev's armored divisions. Rebel Prime Minister Imre Nagy got himself hung, a Judas incarnate named János Kádar took power and held it for 40 years, and everyone lived uneasily ever after - studying advanced Russian in schools, memorizing lyrics to Peterskaya Road and marching under posters of Leonid Brezhnev in May Day parades down the Dósza György Út.

But then the Berlin Wall came down and Hungarian Army soldiers started snipping away the barbed wire at the Austrian border. Despite the opportunity for freedom of movement, most people decided to stay put and see what would happen in the new post-socialist era.

After a few different governments, the people voted in old Hungarian Socialist party apparatchnik Ferenc Gyurcsany as their leader, and people keep voting for him because even though they think he's a weenie they know that if they vote in the right-wing opposition party Fidesz, the country will be carved up like a Christmas goose and served to any corporate interest in the EU that has two Euro to rub together. And if this happens they feel they will be kissing their pensions goodbye and end up having to pay everything they have saved to get any level of health insurance. You know, the same pickle we're all in these days. Welcome to the modern world, Hungary.

In the meantime, Prime Minister Gyurcsany continues to inspire the people, creating a lot of opportunities for the nation's crummy photoshop artists. And that looks like an economic stimulus package we'll have to live with for awhile.

And that was what I learned on my trip to the Hungarian National Museum. Don't forget to drink your double espresso before you go!

National Museum: The History of Hungary, Pt. 3

nospam@example.com (SF) — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 00:34:00 -0800

So where was I... Oh yeah, the Turks. The Turkish occupation. A load of sultans and pashas roaming the countryside in their kaftans and shoes that curl up at the toes. They took over a big chunk of Hungary and messed with everyone's minds for 150 years.

Then in the late 17th century the brave nobleman Imre Thököly figured if he couldn't beat 'em he'd join 'em, united with the Turks and started guerilla campaigns against the Austrians. It ended in a draw. Not long afterwards the Turks slunk on back to Constantinople, leaving very little in the way of lasting cultural influence, and taking those ridiculous Jiffy Pop hats they wore with them.

Later on the great Ferenc Rakoczi II fought the Austrians some more and gave them a good beating until he ran out of men and money. Which is an object lesson in the futility of pitting bravery and valor and national pride (Hungary) against decadence and nepotism and too much disposable income (Austria). You just can't win.

So despite the herculean efforts, the heroic magyars could not purge their land of the Austrian plague. Resigned to failure, they had no choice but to assimilate their culture. Hungary's fanciest families started haunting Viennese salons and Josef Haydn was digging Buda-Pest. Rococo interior decor began to cover the walls of public buildings and private estates like a creeping bronze-hued fungus.

Then this queen Maria Theresa took the throne of Austria and things got a little better for the Hungarians. She wasn't too bad, for an Austrian, even if she was the offspring of Hapsburg schweinen.

Around this time a kind of European sophistication took root in Hungarian culture, with the rise of the commerce and royalist patronage. A merchant class emerged as the economy developed along the lines of other nations in continental Europe. And the nobility became oh so fat and sassy. But what good is it being fat and sassy if you don't have a healthy bourgeoise middle class to show it off to? So they let a little of the money flow downward and soon cultivated an audience of clean, scrubbed capitalist types to both envy and enable their accomplishments.

Of course this couldn't go on too long without the hoi polloi getting bitten by the national pride bug again, especially since it was virtually against the law to speak Hungarian in Hungary. So this guy István Széchenyi started to f**k s**t up by inciting revolution among the oppressed citizenry, while building a really cool bridge across the Danube in his spare time.

Széchenyi was joined by other Hungarian legends like Kossuth and Déak and Battyhány who started a revolution in 1848 which unfortunately was again crushed by the Hapsburg Austrians.

As Austrian and Hungarian politicians wore each other out fighting over things like whether or not Hungarian was a crap language or not, they took a breather and decided to try and get along with each other for awhile.

This was no doubt the influence of Empress Elizabeth, the Austrian royal known as "Sissy" who was a magyar-lover and had a MAJOR crush on Count Gyula Andrássy, the swarthiest stud in the Hungarian Parliament. In this period Hungary actually got some good out of their relationship with Austria, as it was a time of economic cooperation and development of Hungarian industry and finance.

Empress Elizabeth got a lot out of Austro-Hungarian cooperation as well, getting herself knocked up with Andrássy's baby - which she carried to term despite being married to Emperor Franz Joseph. But nobody blamed her, really. Husband Franz was an old Teutonic fart with an overgrown handlebar moustache who wore his war ribbons to bed, while Andrássy was a fabulous slice of Hungarian beefcake who had all Budapest at his beck and call. I mean, which one would you choose?

Part 3 - 20th Century to present >>>

National Museum: The History of Hungary, Pt. 2

nospam@example.com (SF) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 00:01:00 -0800

So stocked with enough kings to pack the house at an Obama inaugural, it was lively times in Hungary during the early part of the second millennium. Poles and Bavarians and Venetians cutting deals with the nobility trying to horn in on magyar territory. Knights running about impaling each other with broadaxes and 6-headed mace and pikes tipped with 20-inch blades. A parade of different kings called Béla and Géza and Charlie, each one making up the rules as he went along.

Along the way this peasant named György Dózsa started to get the right idea, and fomented a rebellion not dissimilar from the one Spartacus started against the Romans. Captured in failure, he was tried by a kangaroo court made up of rich landowners, found guilty of standing up for the dignity of the average citizen, and burned alive. As a special artistic touch, Dósza's accusers made his followers eat his flesh as it burned. Sort of like an episode of The Apprentice, only less savage. Dózsa earned a place on the old Hungarian 20 forint note for this martyrdom.

King Matthias Corvinus came to power during the low Renaissance, and what a time he had. He took on many of Hungary's enemies and made hash out of them on the battlefield, introduced publishing, encouraged development of the arts and sciences, and made a lot of pretty gold coins with his face on them.

Later on, at the height of the renaissance, the Hapsburgs sent one of their own to run the place, Ferdinand I. He had a very weird motto he lived by: "Fiat justitia et pereat mundus" ("Let justice be done, though the world perish").

One imagines what his court advisers response was to the confounding logic behind this maxim...
"So Ferdinand. You're, um... insane?"

Other kings made their mark as Hungary became a wannabe power in Europe following the Catholic-feudalist model. Some like King Louis II got a little to big for their pants and went off to war with their troops in search of glory on the battlefield. And so before he was even old enough to drink, Louis got himself killed in one of those dumb wars they were always having back then, fighting 100 year wars over roses and stuff like that.

Then the Turks came and invaded. The Hungarians didn't have the guns or training to fight them, as they has been under some form of Austrian rule for generations and weren't allowed to organize into efficient fighting units. And the Austrian military, being composed of a bunch of crummy fighters led by overdressed inept commanders, were ineffectual; at the sight of the first scimitar they ran away back to the Alps like a bunch of little bitches. So the Turks prevailed and settled in for a snarling armistice with the magyars on Hungarian soil. The Turks occupied the center of the country, cut down all the trees, built some mosques, opened a few bath houses and squatted on the Alföld (the Hungarian Plain) for around 150 years.

Part 3 - Renaissance to 19th Century >>>

National Museum: The History of Hungary, Pt. 1

nospam@example.com (SF) — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 00:02:00 -0800

My first time to the Hungarian National Museum (Magyar Nemzeti Múzeum), and finally got to see what is in this imposing building that dominates Ráday utca like the Lincoln Memorial does the Washington Mall.

I could have perused the featured exhibition of Egyptian artifacts but that's not how I get my kicks. Instead I viewed the permanent collection which deals with 1000+ years of Hungarian history. The museum presents this history in strict chronological order, snaking it through many rooms and exhibits. It is a lot to see in just one day but I did make it through the saga of the Magyars and their accompanying vale of tears in around three hours.

You know I have to share it with you, don't you? With photos of some of the exhibits snapped whenever the crabby security monitors weren't looking? Of course you do. And of course I take no responsibility for its historical accuracy!

[click on any image to see enlargement]

It was during the time of the Byzantine Empire that the evolution of what we know as the Magyar people occurred. They are an ethnic alchemy forged of varying percentages of the following ancient peoples: Saragurs, Sabirs, Ugors, Onogurs, Megyer, Jenő, Keszi, Nyék, Kér, Tarján, and Huns. And others, probably. These tribes migrated from Asia and Europe and converged on the Carpathian basin as little more than a fragmented congress of dirty savages.

The confederation muddled along in the manner of a drunken mob until this guy Arpád came along on a glowing white horse. He united all the tribes and made them a force to be reckoned with. Despite the fact that he was a man among men, supposedly Arpád was not completely human; legend dictates that his great grandfather was hatched from a giant falcon egg. Really.

A few years later there was a guy called Stephen, who ended up becoming Stephen I, the first Catholic king of Hungary. I think he was part of Arpád's family, but not sure. Hungarian history starts off confusing and just gets worse.

Anyway legend has it that the archangel Gabriel came down and gave Stephen the orb and cross and crown and all that holy business in order to make him king. But some people weren't convinced of his divine right to the throne, so Stephen had to kill a bunch of his friends and family members in gruesome Macbeth-ish fashion to prove himself a true Christian. Now there's a man for you.

In this time the magyar people lived a pretty raw existence. They shacked up in these really weird huts with sloped roofs and underground living areas, the smoke from the kitchen fire wafting up through the roof like in a tipi. The magyar were really good with horses and rode through the plains and forests hunting animals to add to the gyulás pot.

St. Stephen (Szent István, in Hungarian) converted the country to Christianity, but it didn't stay converted. The succeeding kings of Hungary went back and forth between Christianity and paganism for hundreds of years, which drove the Pope batty. First he has a loyal bootlicker on the throne, then some crazy heir apparent embraces the runes and graven images and threatens to move on Rome for the purpose of lopping the Pope's head off with a magyar sword.

Plus, when it came to royal families, the magyars couldn't make up their minds.

A list of Hungarian kings from the late middle ages reads like Leonard Maltin's favorite blockbuster films of the 80s. After Stephen there was Peter I, Samuel I, Andrew I, Solomon I, Béla I the Bison, Géza I, St. Ladislaus I, Coloman I, Stephen II, Béla II the Blind, Géza II, Stephen III, Ladislaus II, Stephen IV, Béla III, Emeric I, Ladislaus III, Andrew II, Béla IV, Stephen V, Ladislaus IV, Andrew III, Wenceslaus I, Otto I the Bavarian, Béla V, Charles I, Louis I the Great, Mary I, Charles II the Short, Sigismund I, and Albert I. And this only takes up to the mid-1400s.

Back in those days, they went through kings like kleenex. The average Hungarian leader in the middle ages had the employment lifespan of a modern telemarketer.

Part 2: Renaissance and Baroque Hungary >>>

1956 Memorial Monument

nospam@example.com (SF) — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 00:36:00 -0800

The 1956 Monument, created to commemorate the tragi-heroic rebellion against the Soviets that began peacefully but evolved into open street warfare that was ultimately crushed by the Red Army.

The monument is constructed of 1,956 steel beams that begin as ragged, rusted posts arranged in a pattern of random isolation that gradually converge into a sharp, shiny wedge point symbolizing national unity and defiance against would-be tyrants. The skillful array of floodlights make this a memorial best viewed at night.

It is a powerful monument that compares to the American Vietnam War Memorial in terms of the power of its seeming abstractness, and also in controversy - many Hungarians loath this piece of work, preferring the idea of a more traditional statuary with street fighter figures. Like a lot of Hungarian attitudes about culture, I think this is overly conservative and backwards-thinking. In time I think that Hungarians will see the power and the beauty in this piece of work and feel proud to have it near the most beautiful monument in the city at Hero's Square.

Gabriel & Hungarian Religion

nospam@example.com (SF) — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 00:27:00 -0800

All hail the archangel Gabriel, atop his obelisk in Hero's Square as he must have appeared to Szent István a little over 1000 years ago when he handed him the holy crown and made him the first Catholic king of Hungary. A deal for a rock opera about István's life and times would come later, with the Pope totally cut out of the merchandising.

Thanks to Gabriel, Hungary has been a predominately Catholic country since István's time - running at just over 50% of the population according to the good old CIA. There are Protestant bastions in the country like Debrecen, but mostly the religious order is Catholic, Jewish, Protestant.

I put Jewish at #2 not from numbers of worshippers, but from their social influence. The Jews financed the building of Budapest, and it was a cabal of Jewish financiers who deftly saved the Hungarian economy at the turn of the century by way of a series of crisis bailouts. Without a Jewish presence (some estimate that in 1900 they constituted around 25% of the population), Budapest would still have evolved into a great city... but it might look more like Pittsburgh than Vienna.

As for Protestants, there are some still lurking about. I even saw some Jehovah's Witnesses here the other day. Jehovah's Witnesses interest me; their formula of complete joylessness in formulating their religious rules and traditions would seem to have no appeal to anyone. But they continue to attract new suckers.

Some very odd philosophies these Jehovah's Witnesses have. Catholics and Lutherans believe that we'll got to a beautiful Heaven after life on Earth. Atheists believe Heaven is a quality life on Earth while you're still alive. But the Jehovah's Witnesses strive for a Hell on Earth starting right now, with boredom and oppression for all eternity starting tomorrow night at your local Kingdom Hall. During my whole career in marketing, I've never seen a tougher product to sell. If I could find their marketing secrets I could use them to sell worthless widgets and retire early.

So Hungary is predominately a Catholic country. But some traditions are not so strong here. I'm sure that if you invoked canonical law and told a Catholic Hungarian to skip eating meat on Fridays, he'd just toss back another palinka and tell you what you could do with your advisory. Hungarians are proud of their status as the world's most avid porkatarians.

But Gabriel still loves them. And that's some good connection to have. For we know from the Bible that on judgement day...

“...the trumpet shall sound, and dead will be raised incorruptible." - I Corinthians 15:52

So an "in" with Gabriel amounts to something of having a backstage pass with God almighty. Deceptively cheeky, these Hungarians. They bypass the Lord and saviour altogether and just get in solid with the bouncer. Talk about working the angles (and angels)!

Did You Know...? Hungary has the lowest rate of Catholic sexual guilt of any European country!

Hungary Salutes A New American President

nospam@example.com (SF) — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 00:46:00 -0800

Barack & The Wall

nospam@example.com (SF) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 05:23:00 -0800

NOVEMBER 5, 2008

My inner clock sounded an alarm at around 3:30 a.m. CET. Rousing me in time to check the net for the first USA election returns.

Settled in front of the computer and got caught up with events. At 3:40 all of New England and New York were in Obama's pocket. Minutes later Pennsylvania followed suit. With this all the news organs focused like a laser on Ohio, McCain's last stand. At just before 4 a.m. Ohio also went for Obama, and every delegate-tracking blog began publishing eulogies for the Republicans.

Then at 5 a.m. the polls closed on the west coast, allowing all the major networks to color California a Democratic baby blue. With Obama's delegate count well over the top, The New York Times condensed their top headline banner to one of their shortest ever.

With the announcement of the Obama victory, the party in Chicago was on. And as the first few video clips of the rally made their way onto the web, I felt an envy of the people in Grant Park that was tinged with deja vu. It only took a moment to contact where the feeling came from - I recalled a similar feeling on the first trip to Europe, 19 years ago this week...

NOVEMBER 9, 1989

In the fall of 1989 I cashed in a slew of frequent flyer miles and took my first trip to Europe. Spent a week in Paris, then took a ferry to the UK - to Cardiff, to spend some time with my pal Dave. Most people don't plan their first trip to Europe with the notion of spending the bulk of their time in South Wales, but sometimes the company is more important than the destination.

Mostly Dave and I hung out in pubs and got well pissed. Both of us were pretty low from our girl troubles and crummy wage slave jobs, and it was a pretty gloomy autumn - loads of wind and sheet rain greeted us every day, which didn't help our spirits any. So we downed many a pint. It was my first introduction to how much lager a Welsh lad can put away before 11 p.m.; though outclassed, I valiantly tried to meet my mate Guinness for Hürlimann.

After many days and nights of this, we both decided that this diluting a lot of good stout and lager with salty tears was getting a bit dreary. We should chart a different course. But what to do?

We came up with a wacky idea. Maybe we should tour the continent, but do it in style. It happened that Dave was just putting the finishing touches on an American car he was restoring for a rich UK client - a 1977 Pontiac Trans-Am with 7.0 liter V8 and that crazy-ass bird decal on the hood. Why not put the fucker on a ferry to Holland, and take the bird for a wee spin? We decided that a car like that needs to be driven hard... all the way to Berlin!

We started planning in the first week of November, but both got distracted by this and that and the trip got pushed back on the calendar. And then one evening I came back from a pub to find Dave and his mum in the living room watching the evening news, both bent forward listening to the audio with a special intensity. I squinted towards the screen at the grainy telecast. "What's going on?" Dave turns round and says, "Haven't you heard? The facking WALL's coming down!"

In a daze I watched the scene unfold... The Berlin Wall, the impenetrable wall, was indeed being destroyed right in front of our eyes. But it was being done not by Soviet bulldozers, but by whoever happened to be passing by with a heavy blunt object. Those images are still in my mind yet: The young German guys having at the wall with sledgehammers, the smiling faces queuing up on the Eastern side getting captured in the lights, the stacks of cinder blocks crumbled into sand, the Mona Lisa smiles of the Eastern European border guards. Even with Gorby, Glasnost and Perestroika, this was a critical mass I never thought I would see. But there it was, and it was marvelous.

And then I remembered - DAVE & I COULD HAVE BEEN THERE! At the wall, right now! In a cock-out, totally restored American muscle car that could have led a bloody parade down BigFrickenStrasse or something. Talk about bad planning! It would have been the trip of a lifetime.

ANOTHER WALL COMING DOWN

And now a different wall comes down, and again I'm out of the picture - in another country seeing history unfold on a tiny screen. The scene at Grant Park was something we'll only see once in our lifetimes, I think, and I would have loved to have been there. Not simply because I like Obama, but because it feels like the same kind of critical mass tsunami that made the Berlin Wall crumble into powder and souvenirs some 19 years ago.

That same feeling of futility that we had when we were living with the Berlin Wall has been similar to the futility and cynicism so many have felt when confronting the idea of political change.

I was fascinated by the images of the people. The crowds that greeted Obama in Grant Park and those that assembled in Phoenix for McCain's concession speech looked so completely different.

The McCain supporters who turned out for the concession speech at the Biltmore had the look of the kind of upper-middle class Arizonan that you would imagine McCain's people to look like: well-dressed, dignified, passionate about their man. They seemed a very different breed of individual from the gold-plated Neiman-Marcus nitwits that we've been seeing in the front rows of Bush rallies for the last eight miserable years. I felt they were good people who really believed that their man could get the country going in a positive direction, and as John McCain delivered his classy concession speech I felt bad for them having to be on the losing end.

But back in Grant Park, when the cameras scanned the quarter million people gathered to cheer Obama, it looked like everyone in the country was there. The rally had a very different look than those of Democratic rallies past. At a Kerry rally, the people looked a lot like the folks at Republican rallies except for the lighter make-up on the women and smaller suit sizes on the men. But the Grant Park crowd had it all: young, old, blacks, browns, whites, asians, yuppies, celebrities, students, and, yes - even a lot of Joe Plumbers. It looked like America, and America looked good.

By 7 a.m. Budapest time, as the media was wrapping up its coverage in the states the European Union was just waking up. And when they tuned in they heard the news reported in a way they hadn't experienced for any US presidential campaign ever - coverage that was almost as comprehensive and sophisticated as that in the USA, to satisfy the fascination that they have for this historic event.

The whole world it seems is marveling at the ability of Americans to recapture the world's imagination when it seems that everyone is sick of us, to turn on a dime politically when the need arises, and to not balk at elevating our underdogs to the highest heights.

1956 Anniversary

nospam@example.com (SF) — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 12:06:17 -0700

It's the anniversary of the 1956 Uprising today, a day for Hungarians to commemorate their courageous rebellion against the Soviets. It's their biggest patriotic holiday - like a cross between 4th of July and Memorial Day wrapped in a blanket of 9/11. Serious stuff.

The decision was to stay in and have a quiet observation of the day because of the potential for violence in the streets. Right-wing groups like the Magyar Garda often use this day as an occasion to vent their spleen at the Socialist government, and they all get pretty rowdy. In 2006 some old fart of an army veteran climbed into one of the old Soviet tanks on display and actually got it running, intending to crash through the police barricades. He drove a few dozen yards down the street before running out of gas. Still, you couldn't help but admire his flair for the grand gesture.

But I ain't scared of a little riot here and there. Actually sounds like fun. But with the impending trip to Debrecen tomorrow, and all the stores closed, it just sounded like a nice idea to hole up here and pack while watching watching TV coverage of right-wing hooligans and riot police throwing tear gas canisters at each other.

Eva called and gave a heads-up about the airing of a good documentary by a pair of American sisters, exploring their father's heroic past in the uprising. And all night old grainy footage in 3-minute interludes documenting the revolution - Pest Lads stalking the streets in bandido scarves, RUSKI HÁZA graffitied on disabled T-34 tanks, hospital workers braving machine gun fire to brings stretchers into a makeshift safety zone.

It makes me emotional still even after all I have read about it, and the considerable exposure I had to it during my last 3-month stay here, on the 50th anniversary of the uprising when there was a tidal wave of remembrances, documentaries and tributes going round-the-clock.

If Barack Obama is such a Socialist, then where's his Hungarian Workers Pin?

nospam@example.com (SF) — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 01:24:00 -0700

So I keep hearing this talk from across the Atlantic - this talk about Barack Obama being a Socialist.

I'm more fascinated by this than anything. I mean, really... "Barack Obama is a Socialist". What are they referring to? I don't get it at all. Such a nonsensical statement.

A moderate midwestern politician is labeled 'Socialist' even though he has never espoused any economic philosophy that could be mistaken for socialist thought. It's like saying "Rush Limbaugh is a carrot" or "Oprah Winfrey is reclaimed non-potable water".

And yet many of the hottest talking heads in Washington are repeating this dada-esque statement on a 24-hour cycle like a flock of crackhead parakeets.

I love it. It's totally brilliant.

Yes, completely wack, and I'm really starting to warm up to it. I consider it to be a new strain of surrealist thought, coming from the kind of people - activist Republicans - who I never would have believed to have much artistic imagination at all, much less a penchant for surrealist humor. I'm very impressed.

Well, I'm always up for a new art movement. Count me in! Sure, Obama's a Socialist, whatever. Sounds like fun. I want to get in on this "anyone-who-disagrees-with-a-Republican-is-a-Socialist" trend wave.

To this end, I have purchased a fashion accessory essential: A collection of genuine Hungarian Communist Party achievement pins. I got it at an outdoor market last week, and they are so cool I'm tempted to cut short my wonderful time in Budapest just so I can come home and show them off. Pin them to my lapel like punk badges and strut my stuff at the first Commie Obama nightclub I can find.

You don't believe me? Well here's the proof, comrade. This is a genuine Socialist Brigade pin from the grand old days of Eastern Europe's red glory. Bought it last weekend at a local flea market. Just looking at it brings back memories of those golden years under Kádar...

Free healthcare. Free schools that rivaled those in the west at a fraction of the cost. No drug lords or gangs. No religious nitwits allowed to change the laws for the bulk of the nation to suit a minority of medieval primitives. No fascist werewolves making 8-figure salaries for services rendered spreading hate over the airwaves. No Wall Street.

This new Obama-Socialist thing is really looking like a new wave. Best thing since Marcel Duchamp.

Hungarian Hospitality

nospam@example.com (SF) — Sun, 19 Oct 2008 13:00:00 -0700

Sunday in Hungary is a day when families get together for meals, so it's over to Mama Eva's house for lunch. Eva lives to cook, and she puts everything she has into these lovely occasions, preparing all the best Hungarian food in all the best ways for your eating pleasure.

And brother you better eat it too, because if you leave anything on that plate Eva will rise from the table and sing Vissi d'Arte in front of the stove with Beverly Sills' glycerine tears streaming down her face.

Fortunately, it's not hard to eat it all. And seconds, and thirds usually. It's that good.

On this Vasárnap ébed we had matzoh ball soup, made with goose broth and featured matzoh balls the size of shotputs. Had three bowls of that. Then some "broken potatoes" laced with just the slightest touch of smoked Hungarian ham (I got points with Eva for detecting this seasoning element that the rest of the family missed), lovely tender purple cabbage, and some expertly prepared duck thighs. Hard to do duck, but Eva does it right.

The scorecard: Three bowls of goose soup, two big helpings of potatoes, 1-1/2 helpings of cabbage and one large duck leg. Then coffee and small apple finger pastries for dessert. Nagyon finom!