1 H


I like drinking and I cannot drink at the moment so it’s quite frustrating. I’m very shy and when I drink it makes it easier so it’s more frustrating to be with so many people around me at the moment. I’m not really sure I like political art. It keeps me thinking about what’s happening around me, so I’m in a quite weird state at the moment, sort of forcing myself into enjoying what’s happening.


2 H


Pronoun used by a speaker to refer to himself or herself refers to a person who:


(1) likes to consume or be in the habit of consuming alcohol


(2) cannot consume or be in the habit of consuming alcohol at the present time


(3) finds (2) to a certain or fairly significant extent frustrating


(4) is very reserved or having or showing nervousness or timidity in the company of other people


(5) asserts that (1) makes the situation or circumstances and things in general easier


(6) asserts that in virtue of (2) is it more frustrating to be with so many human beings in general or considered collectively in the present time


(7) is not really sure whether he or she likes political expression or political application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture as well as producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.

(8) in virtue of (7) is thinking about what is happening around him or her


(9) is in a quite weird state at the present time


(10) is forcing himself or herself into enjoying what is happening.

What are we going to do about that?” And the man says, “But Mr. sir policeman sir, you caught a person who’s stolen the ontological crisis and at the same time has no ontology of his own, what is there to be done?” And the policeman says that there really isn’t much to be done and most importantly, the ontological crisis isn’t bananas and so the man is like supposedly free to go. The man rejoices, hands over the ontological crisis to the policeman and walks off. The policeman stands still with the ontological crisis on his hands and gaping at the starry sky above him. When he’s done gaping, he doesn’t know what to do then and so he walks. He walks and meets an old man. The old man is leading a donkey. The old man asks whether he wouldn’t trade the donkey. The policeman nods, gives him the ontological crisis and receives a donkey in return. The policeman takes the donkey to the station and the old man trades and when he does, a needle is all that he has left. And that’s the end of the story about the ontological crisis.

Or another man, walking along Na Příkopě Blvd, formerly Am Graben, meets a penguin. In a word, Prague, he thinks and walks on. He walks on along Na Příkopě Blvd and meets another two penguins. He dismisses the thoughts of a Pittsburgh Penguins away game and walks on. Na Příkopě Blvd goes by quickly and he keeps bumping into more and more penguins. Eventually he gets used to it. But what he doesn’t get used to is that Na Příkopě Blvd has ceased to end, there aren’t any side streets leading from it and all the doors are locked, the shops are having their inventory check and the mobile network is down, and penguins are everywhere. So the man walks on and on, Na Příkopě Blvd doesn’t end, but converges into infinity and before the man reaches the crossroad in front of U Hybernů Palace, he dies. That he would die amongst penguins on Na Příkopě Blvd is something that would never occur to him, occurs to him.

Or differently: One man wakes up, dresses and eats breakfast, locks his apartment and calls the elevator. Even more differently: One man is coming from work, he walks up to the building he lives in, unlocks the main door, calls the elevator now one of those boys I did an interview with walked by and whose story succumbed to disintegration, it occurred to me that he might come and knock the daylights out of me, but he was searching for someone, not searching himself, the elevator arrives and the man gets in and presses the six. It takes awfully long, suddenly the elevator stops and the doors open. He’s on an unknown floor, an antique matron with a palace poodle standing in front of him pushes her way into the elevator. The doors close and the elevator ascends. It stops, the doors open and the woman steps out straight into a park that stretches outside the doors. The doors close and the man in the elevator goes up. After four hours, the elevator stops, but nothing happens. Only –“You have time.” – is heard. And the man has to admit that that’s really true because he’s coming from work. After a minute the elevator starts moving again and ascends and ascends and the man is slowly starting to get used to the weird feeling he has in the elevator in his building, even though there are altogether only seven floors.



Ondřej Buddeus — A me


Is part of Ondřej Buddeus‘s participation in the Adaptation.


“But the need to adapt, uncoordinatedly, individualistically, without any authority, leader and order, to changes we initiate ourselves. Adaptation signifies now (asynchronously) and here (various places) an affinity with Utopia, which remains a non-place. Adaptation to conditions of reality which the collective dialectic of individuals without leader and order themselves create.“


Babi Badalov, Hafiz, Lia Perjovschi, Loulou Chérinet, Ondřej Buddeus, Ruti Sela, Shady Elnoshokaty, Vít Havránek, Xu Tan, Zbyněk Baladrán.



Curatorial Consultant Visual Arts:

Anne Faucheret


Translation: © Tereza Novická, 2013.

Graphic design: www.mutanta.com


We would like to thank all participants of the festival who took part in the project.


We would also like to thank

the following individuals:

Hana Buddeus, Věra Krejčová,

Antonín Mareš


Published by Steirischer Herbst Festival

GMBH Graz 2012 in collaboration with




© Ondřej Buddeus, 2013

ISBN: 978-80-87259-18-4


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