Sziget Festival for Hungarians?

As the summer period approaches, the hype around popular summer festivals also erupts. Sure enough, a week-long gathering for music and party enthusiasts yields a number fun stuff ranging from listening to the favorite bands live to getting involved in developing relationships with even international friends. However, attempting to take part in such an event becomes less fun if it takes over a month of summer-work for teenagers or college students to earn the outrageous entry fee. The reason why nobody will ever care about the odd situation in Hungary, namely, that Eastern Europe’s largest festival in the middle of Budapest is invaded mostly by Western European foreigners who will eventually and necessarily raise the price threshold, is because economically there is no need to alter a policy which relies purely on financial considerations. On the other hand, the intention to create a new festival in Eastern Europe with its certain vibe and authenticity has faded away during the years of Sziget’s evolution.

Throughout Europe, attending musical festivals has been a popular and successful trend since the eighties, or, taking the UK as an exception, since even earlier. Even though it was the legendary Woodstock festival in the US that created such a chain reaction, the large capitals relatively close to one another on the map shifted the hotbed of musical festivals from the States to Europe. Many of the music festivals are built around a certain genre in music, resulting in a great variety of themes and styles. Drink or clothing brands promoting such events even form their entire marketing profile and strategy in order to accommodate the specific style of a certain subculture, or the taste of people who will presumably attend the festival; and Sziget has always been following the reliable patterns to attract promoters and visitors. True, the popularity of Sziget today is mainly based on this careful, step-by-step policy in gradually raising the bar in order to reach the Western European level. However, as Sziget finally managed to converge with the standards, its repertoire of both Hungarian and other European (but compared to the overwhelming Anglo-Saxon pop music trends, not canonized and, therefore, less popular) music was reduced to such a small proportion that these shows today generally appear on the smallest stages, which are carefully tucked in the far corners of the Óbudai Island.

Sziget has gained its global recognition only in the last decade, but even in such a short timeframe, it managed to outgrow the hosting Óbudai Island, where it takes place annually. Due to the sheer lack of space and the ever-growing number of visitors, Sziget must also gradually raise the entry fee to control the vast crowds forcing their way onto the island. And since the popularity of the festival manifests itself year after year in the increasing amount of attention it gets, why not monetize the inevitable opportunity?

For foreigners arriving from the West, Sziget is a cheap and atmospheric little place to spend much fewer money on drink and show-tickets than it would otherwise cost in German or English musical festivals, while still listening to the same music they hear at home. While it is obvious that globally recognized bands and artists will necessarily attract visitors with fat wallets, as a consequence: the vast majority of unduly underrated underground bands from this part of Europe slip off the stage. If Sziget had intended to create a balance between importing popular music into its repertoire and providing some reasonable amount of platform for either Hungarian or (so far) less popular artists, this intention turned out to be shamefully unsuccessful.

The Myth of the Accelerating Toyota? Give Us a Break...

The global news buzz over Toyota’s recall-scandal kicks off with a new chapter this month as another 4.2 million cars seem to be affected by the accelerator’s own personal life. According to reports, even after releasing the pedal, engines in various Toyota models would keep rotating at the same speed, or in some occasions, the cars could even accelerate.

During the autumn of last year, half a million of Toyota’s new hybrid car, the Prius, was recalled after hundreds of reports in the US: errors in the brake system of these cars began to crop up all around the States even only a few months after each car's purchase.

Throughout the months since October 2009, the rampaging battering ram of the US media managed to force the Japanese company to its knees. Akio Toyoda, CEO of Toyota Motor Corp. is now officially begging for the entire world’s trust. The day of the U.S congressional hearing, February 24, will now forever be remembered as the “day of restart for Toyota”.

Fair enough, but why does nobody hear about Ford recalling over 16 million of its cars just before the autumn of 2009, just before the juicy Toyota-scandal? Oh, and the story wasn’t merely about a dozen unverified complaints on unresponsive accelerating pedals – a problem that surely needs instant aid but which could be dealt with temporarily if one stepped firmly on the break –, but about ABS connection wires catching fire, or the melting (sic!) of the autocruise-buttons. Another example is the 2010 edition of Chevrolet’s Camaro: almost the entire new generation has been recalled by General Motors. The company’s discreet warning begged the customers not to drive their new cars since fire sparks in the engine due to an exposed power cable could lead to lethal consequences. General Motor also recalled another 1.3 million of its other models: in each case the problem originated in loosely grounded cables which could result in engine fire or even explosion.

Today, the horror-story of Ford’s death car, the Pinto, has already become a commonplace that can easily be referred to in the current situation, when the US Senate is constantly boohooing over the morality of Toyota’s policy in placing financial income above security and customer’s service. Back in the seventies, the Pinto’s unsatisfactory construction resulted in a total of 600-900 deaths – which had to be revealed by a sole investigative reporter. After any accidental rear crash, the Pinto’s gas tank would burst into flames, not leaving much opportunity for anyone sitting in the back to survive. Ford calculated on these casualties, but as it turned out, it was much cheaper to pay the insurance companies than to redesign and reissue one of its most popular models.

It would be ridiculous to blame the Toyota-scandal on such people as Nebraskan senator Mike Johanns, (who would actually ban every Toyota in the States) just because the US turns out to be revenge-thirsty after Japan’s official ban on American beef-import due to the BSE-disease. Still, one gets the impression that the Toyota scandal-balloon feeds itself from sheer – but subtle – aspersion. Guilty West versus the meticulously professional East? The saddest part of this current hype is stigmatizing Toyota, one of the largest motor manufacturers of the world and definietly the main pillar of Japan's car-industry, as immorally greedy. Oh my.