On “Music”

There is music. And there is rap. And in one of the circles of hell, there is German rap in an endless loop.
I am prejudiced, of course. Rap, in German Sprechgesang, surely has a tradition etc., it has a political message, perhaps, it is an expression of something – yo, all granted. All this does not change that I “do not get it” & that the texts I heard were outrageous and – what is more important –  dumb. At some point some moons ago, I simply gave up on this “form of art”, and chose to ignore it. All this personal nonsense does of course not mean that there is no intelligent, witty, even likable, rap somewhere out there ; I simply did not find it, and I did not search for it.
This is connected with my advancing age. From one point onwards one has to make decisions about what to explore and what to follow, (what to read !), forms and artists, like e.g. opera and single artists, music of a certain epoch, guitarreros … There is so much to discover, but time runs out, and if I do not like what I hear, I skip it – there is simply no need to take the effort to work one into something one does not like at all.
Then there is German rap.
Over the last years, while driving my kids around, I was exposed to regular radio programs of different stations around here. I noticed that more German-speaking music is broadcasted than I was expecting. Of course, it is ages ago that I was a regular listener to radio programs, and the only one I still listen regularly to today is the classic station of the Bavarian Rundfunk, channel 4.
What I heard can be divided into two sections. On one side are juvenile singers who wail about something they do not understand or lost, or whatever. It is disgusting larmoyant crap. One of the worst troubadours sung about how it was to be with “you” here on “cloud four” – it was enough for him, good enough, he had no implications to go to the proverbial “cloud seven” citing the fear of emotional hurt. When I heard this for the first time I thought it was satire. But no, it counts as actual “love song”.
Another disgusting example is the whiney litany of a young lady who says that “all my friends” think that she’d be “leiser”, more quiet, than usual since she is in a relation with “you”. Because of the inarticulate way she “sings” it always comes out as “Alle meine Freunde finden, daß ich Scheiße bin” (“All my friends think I’m shit”) – and this is exactly how my boys in the vehicle sing along this song happily.
And then there is the second section, the oh so real-tough rappers. These “lyrics” are usually subterranean, belted out in a (fake ?) accent that shall imply that the “artist” is of a some kind migrant origin. In fact it is Kauderwelsch (Ger., Eng.) of the worst kind.
And of course they all are tough macho men : Xenophobic, homophobic and mysogyn, lousy petty bourgeois gone wild.
This may all be as it is, or as I do picture it here, or not.
But there is a border, and this border was crossed when the German Echo-award was given to two of these “artists”. Who sung about their bodies being “more defined than those of Auschwitz inmates”. It escaped my attention that Auschwitz was a fitness camp.
Let me be clear here. German rappers of a certain ilk (in my humble opinion, all of these arseholes) are retarded idiots who happily celebrate the fact that they carry a prick in their trousers & celebrate a worldview that is basically rooted in stone age. Sadly enough there is a market for their products, and enough adolescents of a certain background choose these troglodytes as role models. This is bad. It is a development in this society that not only needs to be observed & watched, but in a way tackled. In the end it is a subject of family, school and society as a whole.
BUT : It is not in order to give these antisemites a prize for their harassment. It is not okay to decorate arseholes, who’s merit is that on German school yards “Jude” is a swear word again.
Interestingly the only one who took the mic and thundered against these pricks was Campino, an old punk rocker. The rest of the assembled media personalities sat in silence. (More or less ; some booed a little, some clapped their hands.)
As rappers would put it : One man, athousand pussies. And to put the crown on this disgusting crap, these antisemites were decorated on jom ha shoa (Ger., Eng.).
It can’t be more disgraceful.



It is SPRING ! All of a sudden I could not bear the faded colours of the former layout anymore. I looked for a new one that comes with a bit of contrast, so that reading is not difficult. Links are (if only thinly) underlined. On my screen the font is pretty large and clear. And I wanted a strong background colour, it is not directly “mago mango”, but more orange. Navigation should be easy. So here it is : Sometimes one really needs to re-decorate !

If there is something in the layout / design that prohibits you from reading, please let me know, I do not want to erect unnecessary obstacles here.


Thank You For Listening

It was the best of trips, it was the worst of trips.
Clean waggons, not overcrowded, just some middle aged blokes dotted around who wanted their quiet ; no squeaky kids ; no always phoning important-men ; silence even ; sunshine, rain, landscape ; just a train doing its job.
Arriving & walking through the city on a normal working day’s afternoon, just watching the hustle, have a snack and step aside, in the sunshine, it’s so easy …
Getting back to this place, no it’s not the darkest coldest hell, but when you come from a place of light & love, warmth & happiness, it is a little step down the scale. And when you are tired & a little bit bonked, and look around & ask yerself, does this stuff belong to me ? Is THIS me ? Then it may start to feel a bit … peculiar ? I will not list where the things around me come from, in the end it nearly all is inherited, or gifted, or just left over. The exception are the books, their shelves, and the computer. It should not be a big deal to move this stuff around.
It was the crappiest trip at all, because I left behind all I love.
I just need to transfer this silly book repository to another place. Or to make a cut and get rid of all the nonsense here at all, preferably in one go : Just some hours of action and no look back.
Is this just an easy and cheap escape phantasey, fuelled by Sylvaner and hybris ?
I do not know. I know meself pretty well after more than fifty years on this heap of wonder. Perhaps I am just waiting for a chance. But as usual, I am my own worst enemy. All I know now is that I have to stay healthy, get on with the situation I have at hands and work to change it, but this is just the “always normal” I think, for all and everyone.
So, nothing special here, I just returned from a good place, and want to get back.


Bumbling Along

There I sit, and ponder my future.
It was nice to drive today, to get the vehicle home, and leave it in its place for the next two weeks : Easter holidays, what a good invention. We all were weary, time for a break.
I bought some necessities, went home, and called it a day. Tomorrow I’ll have to take care of my household, I’ll write an application, and sometime later I will go travelling to Suebia, maybe on Sunday or on Monday, no stress.
The Knights have always been good to me. I like my job, and I have a good rapport with my boys, my passengers, the parents, the colleagues. Some months ago we were greeted by custom officers in the morning when we drove into the “Zentrum” where our kids go. The officers looked at us, we looked at them – for me, it was that. Nobody asked me something. Some other colleagues were picked out, I think they simply counted the coaches, and went for every fifth or so.
The last pay was lower than usual. In the case of my co-driver and me not too much, but lower, for no obvious reason. I was told, when I started, that there is a formula (it is part of my contract) so that it is absolutely clear & comprehensible how the monthly pay is calculated, and what to expect every month – also & especially when we do not drive through vacancies. It depends on one’s “Tour”, mileage, time, the effort ; hours, and minimum wage. It was good practise and worked through the last years, gave security to co-driver and driver : You simply knew what to expect.
But the customs saw this different. Without boring details, it boils down to that there is now a factor of chance, something accidentally, that was not there before. And it is always to our bad. It simply means that one can not count on a fixed income by this job anymore : It can become obviously and noticeably less. Of course not more. And because this depends not on the personnel in the vehicle – we are simply there and do our job, for heaven’s sake ! – it is a bit of a gamble now. Nobody likes this.
Additionally, it hurts that this change was communicated very badly. Basically not at all, and tempers flared a bit in mid-March when all of a sudden less than expected (and promised) money came in. There was a big “Sorry – my mistake, at all !” by the man responsible, but it left a bad taste. The climate changed. And, what is worse, there is still no clear explanation.
Because of all this I have no qualms of writing an application for a job in a totally different region – it is Suebia of course, as you, venerable reader, may already have guessed – and have no scruples to make plans for moving. I am not totally “inept of life”, like Benjamin was, but a lot of things need to be taken into consideration – and I have to make meself familiar with these things, simply because I am basically a territorial, non-moving entity. But æons ago this blog started when I moved here, so it is not impossible that I will move again. I just need a chance, and I must be attentive & keen enough to see & grab it.
I only hope that my brains are still up to task.