I watch how within some minutes a kind of snowstorm rolls in and blanks out everything – all grey, like a wall of fog, but it is snow falling with some water in it and heavy winds.

10 min later: no more colors, absolutely none, heavy wet snow in big flakes.

13:08: Blues sky, beautiful white clouds, snow on the fields. A good idea to color these easter-eggs …


Economy for stupids

Just something economical … As I mentioned before I am not much of a business-man. As I hear shares are falling in some deep hole, not just in Europe but all over the world and the FED does things it never done – I do not know what they do or to what effect and that is not important to me.
Shares are “Anteilsscheine”, in fact buying a share I buy a part of the enterprise: All the shares’ price sums up the value of the enterprise and there is much emotion and “psychology” in it. Good.
In my naivitee I always thought the value of something like a share or a banknote (assignat the French called it, because it was signed by the chief of the central bank as they are still today) – that this value I say depends someway on work: One, who ever, has to produce something, has to “make the value”. In the good old days there was a cellar full of Gold and that was that. Even through WWII the “Ausgleichsbank” worked in Switzerland and setteled the conti between axis and allies: Someone went into the cellar and pulled a box of gold from one cabin into the other. After the war there was something like “Bretton Woods” but I do not know what exactly was done there, anyway the “Gold-Standard” was abolished.
Today Gold is extremely expensive, Silver becomes more expensive and seems to be stable and all the papers – pffff.
So what happened? Where is the money – or better: Where is the value? Is it right to say that all these multi-billion-dollar-enterprises are in fact worth just a fraction of what they are thought to be worth? If so, what is wrong with correcting the prices? That should strengthen the money, shouldn’t it? That would be good. Or not?
As I mentioned at another place, if I would win the Lotto and have lots of Euros I think I would buy me land and forest and start to work in a medieval way with give and take on the basis of work and natural products. That seems to be not the worst.


16. März, 21:25 – 21:42

The bells are quiet now. They ring every year through that 17 minutes. H was 21:35. 63 years ago the firestorm became stronger and stronger. The big bells of the Dom melted and the burning bronze dripped into the cellar-chambers setting the treasure alight, the empty shells of the towers working as furnaces. The museum in the Max-Strasse was already destroyed with all it collections, including those of Dr. B.’s father who brought them to the “bomb-proof” cellars there. The residence without roof, only the gorgeous hall-way/staircase intact, next winter will do it’s best to destroy it. The archives burning. Only the library got away, because the most precious handwritings and incunabula were evacuated. The rest was destroyed by fire or water.
The humans burnt or suffocated. The remains were buried in some mass-graves, somebody counted to five thousand and than stopped. Nobody knows and it is not significant. It was an still open city, a Lazarett-Stadt, and in the ploughed railwaystation were some trains with wounded. Few survived.
Survivors I interviewed remembered the horrors of this night. And the creeping silence of the following days, beautiful spring days, just disturbed by the noise of the bombs with timers and the growing stench. Some weeks later the US-Army arrived and the miserable son of a bitch, Gauleiter Hellmuth, started to defend the heap of ruins, it took them a day of hard fighting to conquer the mass-grave. On Easter 1945 the war was over here.

I found it moving when the Coventry Cross of Nails arrived some years ago.


Just thinking

In the end there is nothing left but hope. All human beings without exception, do live because of hope. The human condition, the existential conditio humana, is loneliness and the experience of being solitary: alone you face the abyss, nobody else takes the decision, it’s me. Maybe I do not like this “me”, but I have no other. Better understand “me” and work with it. The alternative is living in an institution, fremdbestimmt*.
Hope is a promise and needs future, the unknown coming. In the middle of life you realize that future gets smaller – “easy to grasp” my dictionaire calls that, “überschaubar” is the German expression: you can see or at least sense the end. You realize that it is limited. That is all we are allowed to know. Everything else is belief, faith, maybe philosophy … Hope is not comfort, consolatio, the word shares it’s root with “to hop”, “hüpfen”, maybe a good party would do. Con-solatio originally is the togetherness of solitudes, Einsamkeiten, means to overcome loneliness. For a time.

* Can not translate this, too much to be explained.