Tag: death

Just Jabbering

In some hours Vladimir KLITSCHKO will fight against Antony JOSHUA – one of the very few occasions I regret that I have no tv set to watch an event live. I always was interested in boxing. And can well remember when the brothers KLITSCHKO appeared on the scene. Some commenters were quick to dismiss them as “one punch wonders”, as “generic” boxers, soulless automatons etc. Now Vladimir  (Ger., Eng.) is 41, came a very long road, and after his loss of all titles against the Rummelboxer FURY he faces a critical comeback. The old man has to show that it is still in him, or give up and accept that it is over. I saw a picture of KLITSCHKO, a still taken from an interview, and if it is in any way “true”, poor JOSHUA will get the beating of his life.
A Rummelboxer btw is one of these traveling men, a kind of mercenary of boxing, who goes everywhere if the cash is right. And besides these men, there were boxing spectacles on the Jahrmarkt, the annual fair, also called a “Rummel”, a chaotic heap or pile, a tumult. Here traveling boxing companies presented their shows, and of course sooner or later one poor sod from the audience was ready to join in – he usually had no chance.
Boxing is about muscles, yes, but maybe 80% is about technique. I used to watch heavy weight fights, saw Mr TYSON come out of the corner and deliver an earth shattering bonk to his poor opponent, saw Mr FOREMAN deliver some of his very unspectacular but nevertheless devastating blows that sent men to the ground in agony, saw idiots like SANDERS, and FURY, but never saw another boxer as perfect as Vladimir KLITSCHKO.
Later I discovered the light weight classes, in which it is not about the deadly punch, the “one shot only”-thing, but where it is about speed, eye, movement – it is a dance. A sometimes bloody, always exhausting, always payneful, dance.
And sometimes I like to watch this.
The greatest dancer of all, of course, was ALI. I was removed to a sobbing heap of tears when he finally lighted the Olympian flame in Atlanta in 1996.
BTW, I just read that the house of Rosa PARKS, some older readers may remember the name, is translocated (Ger., Eng.) from Detroit to Berlin ; it is now Wriezenerstraße 19 in Wedding.
Is “history” all about forgetting ? Is “history” all about remembering ?
We see history at work, as a tool, all over Europe. It is even jeopardising the whole idea of “Europe”, replacing this idea with national narratives that draw their justifications from a certain idea of history, an interpretation & explanation that re-writes “history” in a new-national sense, while heavily using age-old stereotypes of everything alien – be it “the Jew”, “the Mohammedan” / “Islam” in general, or “the negro”. On the European periphery being gay is a crime again, and hundreds of gay men are tortured and killed in areas of the former Soviet Union, maybe in Turkey too.
We see the rise of – what ? The pendulum swings back, as it always does, and all of a sudden things like democracy, personal freedom, identity, ach name it ! – the whole grambumble – it all becomes unsafe shattered wonky – the ground we / I stood on feels wobbling.
Enlightenment is a process, yes, every generation has to do it again – I have the feeling we somehow missed the last time ? I look at videos showing young men who volunteered to fight somewhere in the Near East – and I ask myself how goddamn brain dead one can be ? And these dumb dorks were born and raised in Europe, not in the Palestinian slums.
What went wrong ?
“Europe”, this voluntary union of independent states, was a reaction to the brutal history of the most violent 20th century. After all, two worldwars started here, and maybe Germany played a little role in this. This “Europe” is based on values, shared and common, dating back to the French Revolution, later casted in the mold of these “human rights” a lot of potentates like to spit on nowadays, not only “somewhere in the East”, but in places like Poland, Hungary – and possibly France when LE PEN takes over. Oh, and like-mindedness, loyalty and sympathy played a role. Based on a shared history – again this cursed word – a history that shows us all the opposite of these values happening.
And what do I see ?
Idiots who happily abnegate all this. Who negate the “worth” of history, and write their own versions. Who instrumentalise all & everything for their own – and only for their own ! – purposes, who set “nation” as something that is superior to the individual. This rings a bell, it’s the old “Du bist nichts, dein Volk ist Alles !” I see politicians who happily lie, who happily construct “historical” rationales & motivations for their own short-sighted ideas. I see men – and sadly women too – who happily embrace the old paternalistic religious bullshit, all this patriarchal nonsense we thought to have overcome – I see idiots happily choosing unfreedom and bondage, I see praktizierte Dummheit. Self-chosen.
This is all just jabbering, incoherent, of course, of course.
Why not some music at the end ? TRB’S Power in the Darkness would be too pathetic even for me right now … let Jimi take over, no reason to get excited … 




Cosmic Tipple *

The “festive” days are over, Saturday will be the last day of this strange year 2016. No worries, this will not end in a review of the year’s strange events or a list of the deceased.
I try to keep links to blogs, even when I do not read them regularly any more, or when the blog falls silent. The latter may have different reasons, like a change of the writer’s situation – especially when the blog was used e.g. as an outlet for emotions in a crisis situation, or when, generally speaking, the purpose of the writing is reached. Others simply use interest.
So I sort these links a bit, there is the folder with the daily “round”, another folder with blogs I look at now & then, and one with links to blogs I used to visit, that are silent or on a hiatus. With some blogs one knows that they have come to an end because the author is dead. It is either announced in one way or another, or is very certain, for example when the author was pretty old – a break of perhaps three years then allows the assumption that she or he died.
And then there are some blogs I keep close, visit, and hope that it is not over – and sometimes it rattles a bit, and – bang ! – there we go again. This was the case with the blog of Kabuki Zero, the man who told the world. After a small break of three years he returned to blogging, only to die after some months. This damn year seems firmly determined to kill as many creative, artistic people as possible. And it is not yet finished.

The time “zwischen den Jahren” / “between years” feels very strange this year. It is much too warm outside : When I look out I see greenish vineyards, a grey sky, and have the impression of an early spring day perhaps in March. The birds are confused, sing in the morning, I even saw first buds on a Magnolia. No snow in sight, no silence in reach.
One hears stories about people doing very strange things – not at the end of the world, but in the neighborhood, or within the circle of friends. So Kabuki-san’s surprising and unexpected death in a way “fits in” or “blends in” to this times of strangeness.
Perhaps the wobbly uncertainty & kind of alienation I sense around me, the uneasy outlook, the feeling that a bit more than usual, bizarre things happen on this old earth – perhaps it is a trick of the mind, and nothing changed, except my perception. But the possibility remains that the world in total, and my segment of the cosmos too, became a bit more peculiar than usual, uncertain, less predictable.
One should give attention to the dreams in the twelve nights between Christmas day and Epiphanias, and the strong winds each night seem to confirm the idea of the Wild Hunt passing through the area, blocksbergbound. But for the first time in ages I can sleep through, dreamless and undisturbed, missing out on the opportunity to learn about my future in the coming year – tah !
To make the outlook less gloomy here is some Poudre d’Or, ground by Mr SATIE, applied by Anne QUEFFÉLEC (Eng., about). [And, just for fun, a version played by Pascal ROGÉ (Eng.) for comparison.] I hope you enjoy the music.

I want to thank You for all the good Christmas wishes : Thank You.
I wish You all, my venerated readers, a Happy New Year 2017 !
Live long and prosper !



* Many thanks to MSScarlet for bringing this interesting word to my attention.

Dis’n Dat / Diss unn’ Dat

What is time ?

“Sed quid tempus est ? cuius cum nihil unquam sit, omnia tamen in illo sunt et semper omnibus assistit. Illud idem omnia generat et occidit, auctor vitae ac mortis. Vtque ilius exspectatio longissima, ita semper memoria brevissima. Cumque nos semper comitetur, nunquam ipsum tamen agnoscimus. Nec cum eius tanta sit copia, reparatio tamen ulla conceditur : unde fit, ut nullius alterius rei iactura sit maior et vilior.”

But what is time ? Nothing is immanent in it (“nichts ist ihr zu eigen”), but all things are in it and it is always with all things. It creates all and kills, it is the author of life and death. And as its expectation is the longest, so is its memory the shortest. And if it is always in our company, we will never learn to know it. And if there is so much of it, any moment is irrecoverable, so the loss of time is more important and more common than any other loss that can incur.

I cite Mr CARDANUS (Ger., Eng.), from his work De Subtilitate, (see here, page 523 = image 553, the paragraph starts with Contraria ratione tempus in somno contrahitur …) as I found it in the biography of this Renaissance disciple written by Mr Anthony GRAFTON (Ger., Eng.) on page 9, note 1 – ha ! CARDANUS btw is the first who mentions the trick called “Blow Book” (Eng.), for all you book lovers. And GRAFTON wrote a history of the footnote, doubt that he got the Pour le Mérite (Ger., Eng.) for this, but who knows.
CARDAN, as far as I understand, also has no real answer. He describes his subject, tempus, but the innermost nature of it is for him as unreachable as it is for any other human being.
The wonder for me is that time “makes things big” and small. Looking back one often wonders how things actually went, were bearable, were good – how it concurred. The best thing about time is that we can not look ahead. I, at least, am grateful that there is no ability to look ahead ; to know that some things would happen, would have made me stumble, fall and give up. Things that burst into one’s life, come by surprise, as shocking as it may be, need & request urgent and immediate action, thus creating at least the illusion of non-passivity, non-subjection.
This was started by the very Mistress’ book report for July & August, in which she mentions But What If We’re Wrong ? Thinking About The Present As If It Were the Past by “Chuck” KLOSTERMANN (link, Ger., Eng.) (astoundingly boyish looks for a forty-something, seemingly a Berufsjugendlicher – yes, the “end of knowledge”-thing still bugs me), nevertheless an interesting point of view on life & all, on history.
I should be writing a text right now. But feel hungry. So it is time to go and pre-heat the oven for the pizza Diavolo I bought yesterday. Yes, let’s do this devilish thing now. This is NOT “procrastination”. Just a little dawdling, maybe.


Sunday Music

Here we are again.
Sorry for the long break, it was not intended. It is simply a fact that I’m too old for some “hau-ruck”-actions.
Last weekend I went to Switzerland, and a simple driving job turned into something pretty demanding. A friend asked me to pick her up in a small village and drive her back to Franconia in her car. On arrival on Saturday afternoon, I met a pale & shaky person I could barely identify as my friend, at least it was the right car. To make a long story short, our mutual friend, whom she visited and who lives in Switzerland,  had to go into a home for the elderly, so the household had to be cleared. I skip over Saturday evening, Sunday morning & afternoon, in the end I pulled the car – loaded to the brim, the car, not me – into the parking lot here on Monday morning at three. Half an hour later it was clear that my friend had lost or forgotten the keys to her flat, so I (literally) pushed her into the bed at a friend’s place, and went home.
It was senseless to go to sleep – I wouldn’t have woken up in time – so brew some coffee and turned to my bank account online to get things sorted, after all it was the start of a new month. I skipped the shower for another coffee and went to my job. At midday I slept for at least for one hour, before some blokes started to renovate a bathroom next door, tile by tile, could have shot them …
On Thursday morning, just when I was ready to climb into my vehicle, my dispatcher called & told me that my co-driver had fallen ill. That’s fine with me, thus things take a little longer, but anyway, it is fun with the boys.
There was a bit of additional hassle, so in the end I was not in the mood to read something, forget to post something. Only over the last few days, with (finally) a lot of sleep and some Silvaner, I bounced back to my usual, happy self.
I noticed that I have to work on myself a bit. Yesterday when I had to fold meself into a sleek driving machine, I noticed how clumsy, how un-bendy, I have become, some of my joints even had the nerve to make cracking noises : That’s a no-go ! I do not want to creak when I enter a cool looking driving-machine – and a bit less of belly would be nice too. At least I was wearing good clothes and I can assure you that anything Ms de Günzburg mixes together is great.
Here is some music that I can relate to right now, The Chico Hamilton Quintet gives us The Wind, recorded in 1956 – a bit melancholic maybe, I hope I did not post it before (if I did, excuse me please, it’s a great piece anyway & I can’t be arsed to check this now) – hope you enjoy the music.
Have a great Sunday and a relaxed week !