Special thanks to Celal ERCIYES for the art direction of the photographs and the casting below. Logo of Studio Gri Fare
Photo of Celal ERCIYES

Celal, as muddy as usual, last spotted in Dalyan - 07/2008.

DANCE CONTEST
DANS YARIŞMASI

I would make him live his favourite scene: the heroic DEATH of a hero.

from DANCE CONTEST
Meet RIZA
Do not be puzzled with descriptive adjectives, let me warn you right from the start. Just to avoid the term "treacherous", I am not the kind of guy who would attempt to stab a person facing him not from the back at the expense of his own project's success. Apart from this technical reality, you would hardly call what I did "heroic", considering the direction or the method of stabbing, even if I successfully stabbed. Classifying the murders by adjectives like "abject" or "felonious", reminds me of categories like "heroic murders" or "virtuous murders" which is at least as contradictory by definition as the term "living dead".
from DANCE CONTEST
from DANCE CONTEST
from DANCE CONTEST

SEHNAZ-the-cause

Excerpts from the book.

	- I want to dance tonight.

SEHNAZ, a tipsy and wonderful creature! Despite her, I was unable to stand 
that cursed thing called dancing, I would stop this stupidity no matter what.

We were around that table once more. True, actually I was fond of her but 
FERHAT has already locked on the target. I was dreaming while the guy was 
working. To describe his manners, I should say he is a sincere believer of 
his own sincerity show-offs. He really perceives himself as a perfect hero, 
as a prince with a white horse. Although he lacks a white horse or a 
prince's certificate, he knows how to make the others think he has them. 

FERHAT and SEHNAZ managed to find seats next to each other, using every trick 
possible. They accomplished this very easily: the moment we entered the ballroom, 
FERHAT chose a chair and SEHNAZ chose another, right next to him. 
(The term "Every trick" here, refers to my intelligently-developed-but-failed 
plans to attain the very same purpose.) I would watch those who would be seated 
first. After having pretended to sit somewhere else in order not to attract 
suspicious looks, I would slide next to SEHNAZ the moment she would sit, 
to make room for another friend. Darn!

SEHNAZ was indeed quick at smiling continuously at FERHAT's meaningless and 
boring jokes. Something should be done to change the mood and I chanced my arm:

	- Is one kilo of cotton harder or one kilo of iron? 

	- Ouf! You're terribly annoying RIZA! 

This shot kicked back. I was hoping to influence her by some scientific subject 
matters. (One more error. Not every woman is Madame Curie.) 
FERHAT, the good guy, intervened: 

	- SEHNAZ don't say that for RIZA, he's joking. What did you say 
    RIZA? That you're ironing the cotton fabrics?

SEHNAZ gave a sexy laughter and the good guy beat the bad guy again. 
Such a disgusting night!"

	- You can have your tequila, my boy. 

I swear to you, that way the waiter addressed me, made my mind up for FERHAT's 
execution. It was no one but him who transformed me into a Turkish bath 
catamite and the waiter was helping him. His self-confident glances which even 
do not condescend to be contemptuous, his high spirit who helps a poor loser... 

I would make him experience his favourite scene: 
The heroic DEATH of a hero.
______________________________________________________________________________

I jumped up screaming "Auww, my arm has been warped," and began a series of 
disabled gestures. While the singer was braying the refrain "I shall thrust a 
stick into fate's wheel," I was amplifying my lame movements. Twisting one arm 
as lame, I was rotating on one foot, from left to right and from right to left, 
as if drilling the floor. I then got bored of this, suddenly I squatted as if 
shitting in a pan closet, while waving my arm back and forth. I had already 
rolled up my pants rhythmically, with the other arm waving upwards and down, 
I was mimicking the user of a reservoir. 

The last figure was more authentic: while washing my ass with one hand, I was 
blowing the other arm's wrist to imitate the sound of farting. Never losing 
the rhythm of the song, I was continuing to dance by transforming my weight 
from one foot to the other. Having realised that I started to attract some 
hostile glances and that even my biological existence might be endangered, I 
decided to retreat once more. 

Only males seemed to appreciate this joke!   

I was seated back again, grumbling.

APPRENTICE
ÇIRAK

If you have nothing but chains to lose, try to protect your chains.

from APPRENTICE
Y., at your humble service.

Y.'s CV

  • Surname: BASKURT
  • Name: Y.
  • Place of Birth: ANKARA
  • Date of Birth: 01/04/1978
  • Previous positions held:
    • Street vendor
    • Waiter at the tearoom of Ankara Chess Club
    • Door-to-door pan salesman
    • Charity solicitation envelopes distributer for Turkish Air Forces
    • Assistant to wedding photographer
    • (He did not mention in this CV that he worked at Sengul Hammam.)
from APPRENTICE
from APPRENTICE
And HER CV
   Surname: [onfile]
   Occupation: Secretary                     
   Name: Sukriye
   Place of Birth: [onfile]
   Date of Birth: [onfile]
   Education: [onfile]                   
   Previous positions held: [onfile]

Back cover
"It might be dangerous," means "it will be dangerous".

  • Can being killed be deserved?
  • Do all love affairs coincidentally start?                     
  • Are there proverbs that are totally misguiding?
  • Where does the rehearsal end, 
  where does the performance begin?
  • Is porn an advanced stage of love?
  • Is revenge a duty?                   
  • Does fear increase audacity?
  • Can what makes a will 'the last will' 
  be the will itself?

MR TAHSIN LEAVES FOR ECUADOR
TAHSİN BEY EKVADOR'DA

from MR TAHSIN LEAVES FOR ECUADOR
KORKUT
"I ceaselessly hit the edge of the racket on that same bald region of his head. When a crack appeared, I concentrated on its further opening. Wherever the head escaped the racket reached. As the crack turned into a valley and as the head blossomed like a daisy, the racket accelerated. How ardent was the racket during its pursuit of the frantically navigating head! The arms of the head were accompanying the kissing racket with flutters. The fox was creeping like a serpent now: head stuck to the ground, he finally rolled up like a pill-bug. Thanks to the recent lower position of the low-down, I managed the hand of a quivering arm annoyingly trying to shelter the head, by stepping onto it. When the head's other arm's hand weakly attempted for the last time to intervene, I gently put it aside by my free hand and the racket kept on digging the valley."
from MR TAHSIN LEAVES FOR ECUADOR  from MR TAHSIN LEAVES FOR ECUADOR

The Handbook of Apprehension and Obsession

Excerpts from the book.
"When they arrived, the floor around his body was bleeding while my laughter was playing 
wall-to-wall ping-pong." Headdoctors do not play ping-pong with their patients anymore after 
that unexpected incident of Dr TAHSIN's tragic loss.     

Back cover
Blood, sweat and tears are but some dirty liquid.

Is the woman who inspired accountant Tahsin with some Goddamn vacation projects, end of the road?
While that ecstatic woman drives accountant Tahsin out of the road, the revenant woman is in Korkut's room.
All along the terrifying game of Korkut with Dr. Tahsin, the revenant woman is behind the curtain.
Reservations to potentially unending trips, rackets for table-tennis contests at death's door.
Do not read without a helmet.

PUNISHMENT GENERATION
CEZA KUŞAĞI

A few moments before that fatal pitch-darkness.

They would be too busy with the foot job to pay attention to you even when you approached them as an inauspicous silhouette.
from PUNISHMENT GENERATION

YOU

from PUNISHMENT GENERATION  from PUNISHMENT GENERATION
Back cover
You took the school for canteen, the canteen for paradise, and those you screwed in the canteen for angels.
Your soul dedicated to market securities has never been satisfied, your lustful life passes without a penny.
After the night you suffocated your only friend CEM, came desolate years and alcoholic drinks. 
Regretting for each moment spent away from whores.
At least don't say "love" please, what can be worse than your love? 
And "conscience, amity, etc." uh? Your life is but cocaine.
You are still reported to be around as a jackal taking a recess, do you take Istanbul for canteen?

Your late friend CEM is here on the web now, this is more than nightmare!

from PUNISHMENT GENERATION