Ailing Decoy

 It was a sad day when my wood pecker was diagnosed with termites

German Evolution

At any time any population anywhere harbours 6% or 7% of vile and dysfunctional elements with low brain-power just high enough to recognize themselves as such, making them very angry. Enough to take it out on successful minorities this scum of course ridiculously think of, as inferior. Add another 6% to 7% of your run of the mill thieves and switch-blade artists and you have a sizeable group of terrible trouble makers. Now suffer the bad luck of having a couple of raging idiots finding themselves or working themselves and this same crowd in or into power by selling them a simple but all encompassing ideology whereby for once many of these intellectual cripples end up on top, and you have something that from every point of view spells slow disaster.

That’s what happened in Germany with Kaiser Wilhelm II and his Prussian mobs, followed of course by our boy Hitler. The advent of Luther elevating the ideal of obedience and method to a national trait not helping much, though by itself this disposition seemingly more annoying than harmful and normally leading to greater mechanics and engineers than true creators, all of which represents nothing to threaten anyone in particular.

So that none of what happened condemns Germany or the Germans for eternity, proof of which lies in the rueful, truly liberated and decent post-war generation having at last succeeded in abandoning the XIXth Century and all the anachronistic, cruel, backward, cultural vestiges that played such a large part in their previous situation.

Because with the right ingredients this could have happened in many other places, and did and therefore not the time for us to be smug and superior, for any nation has the same number of heartless idiots running around, the real thrust lying in successfully denying riff-raff of the kind, access to power.

Still, on November 9^th 1989 I kind of agreed with Mitterrand saying he loved Germany so much, that in fact he didn’t mind having two of them. Meaning he didn’t care for reunification, and neither did Margaret Thatcher for much the same reason, because many of us did have visions of a fanged, arrogant, powerful nation again one day possibly working itself into a frenzy.

But we were all wrong and Herr Kohl was right, pleading for another chance, because besides Jews and Gypsies those next to suffer the horrible consequences of historical beasts and flukes, were Germans at the hands of Germans.

Consistency Begs

He’s so rich, he has gold rings and bracelets and necklaces and even a diamond studded time-piece around his digit. With the time always optimal on that digital watch.

But why call it a watch? Do we call a pair of glasses a see? Our hand a touch? Our ear a listen? I have a pimple on my smell, did you notice? And what’s with a fly? Do we call our dog a walk? A fish a swim? Or no better or worse than calling an orange an orange, isn’t it the very least we can do, baptising a banana.. a yellow?

Justice Jailed

Bertold Brecht suggested many judges are so incorruptible one can’t get them to mete out justice, even if one tried. Meaning they’re not only extremely obedient, but also apt to serve a different master; another dictum having it that the law is there to serve the people, not the other way round.

And I don’t know about the judiciary in the old Roman Empire, but the law’s a tool in discriminate hands in Latin hands, in Mediterranean lands. And that’s no good. Because judges under the later Code Civil set up by Napoleon also have enormous investigative powers, acting as their own police, able to ruin a life on suspicion, not on solid evidence. In other words the British Common Law principle of presumed innocence until proven guilty truly gets warped here into presumable guilty until proven innocent. Places where in addition it takes cases years to get unraveled, in what is a bureaucratic nightmare, unless the prescription gambit gets pulled intentionally of course.

How strange Justice seems to have escaped the strong homogenizing control of the EU, appearing to allow a double standard when comparing the legal systems of its northern and southern members when it’s so exact in areas of trade. Like the strict rules safeguarding fair competition, its across-the-board regulations against corruption, the limitation of government intervention by way of subsidies, deficits and more.

A legal imbalance that is totally unjust and having to do perhaps with all that sunshine here, punishing people with legal deep-freeze because of the mild weather God gave them. In other words do your business up north and play down south where the Holy Virgin regularly appears, never where it’s dark and cold.

But then She’s no McDonna.

Getting Blown

A ‘guy’ used to be a strong, rebellious type and comes from the name Guy Fawkes, who  in the early part of the seventeenth century tried blowing up Parliament in order to have the English restore Catholicism.  I once got ‘fawked’  myself, but it had nothing to do with gun powder.

Play Bach

To make Youtube truly hip and attract an even younger audience, it features a video recording under the title:

Glenn Gould performs the Whoopi Variations

 

O China!

What drives the population in Cathay is not  sex and fertility, but a  huge number of reincarnations! You know, frogs, pelicans, princesses…

Taking a Break

- Hey, Mike! Wanna go for coffee?

- No thanks, I drink coffee this late and my secretary won’t sleep all night!

Confessions of a Feathered Friend

Here I sit on the roof of collected notions, a construction put up over the centuries by people feeding their need for being wanted and loved. In an attempt to make the invisible visible and permanent, as if this really changes anything. And only because sitting on the grass somewhere doing the same thing cannot be passed on, they think, though this would be much more genuine.

I landed on the parapet of what feels more like a gaol than a place of joy. Built, believe it or not, to keep out many of their co-croyants, yet giving me a chance to rest and reflect after my own flight of discovery. They call it the House of God, but up here wired it electrically while below and at dark shutting doors to keep out the tired, the hungry and the sick as if they suffer by the clock. And making me wonder how they built these enormous structures with a stiff neck, always looking the other way, endlessly looking at and after themselves.

 And what about the prejudice that comes with saving your hide before saving the one of others, by the creatures building structures like these? Because even if they have no fur and no hair to speak of, hides they do have, and thick ones, too, though no feathers. Telling us we’re un-clean, diseased and defecating all over, when they’re making a mess of things wherever they dwell. Mistrusting and killing each other when they feel like it, in the name of a slow brainwave they call Lord.

Here, hold my horn-rimmed glasses and my cigar and my Manhattan and I’ll show you in the Wall Street Journal why we stand accused of infesting society. Though look, look at me, I didn’t hurt anyone, releasing my droppings all over the place, spreading viruses or waking up the world with loud cooing. That’s them and almost a business it seems.

Truth by definition cannot be prejudice, they say by way of self-defence and unable to take the slightest criticism, insisting that if hundreds of thousands of a certain kind do something, they’re all guilty and subversive to boot if not of the same prayer. But even if I’m peaceful, clean, entertaining, providing and sharing, they’ll still insist they’re right about me. And that’s when I say, as long as there’s one who’s different, one with pin-striped plumage, they should never say ‘They’re all like that!’, don‘t you agree with me? Afterwards hectoring it’s all in the proportions, that true, nothing is absolute except their faith, and claiming to be overwhelmed all the same by us, when actually they’re the ones who overwhelm out of proportion. Implying we’re the invading kind, taking over their society, and certainly, we have our own vision, at least I do and so do my brothers and so what? Though we must learn to keep a low profile, not flap our wings too much, because down there they’re in control, not up here, thank who or whatever for that.

No, more I look at them, less I want to be like them despite some of that fleeting success of theirs. Sure, sometimes I wished I could cross my legs and sit like them, and least when reading a newspaper, but as for the rest they’ve lost it. Like if I built myself a granite coop with smart stained windows and a huge, bolted door, coercing dozens of mine to sit inside and sing dressed up, no longer able to hear the music produced by water and wind, by songbirds and others.

It’s good to be out looking in, it’s good to be up looking down, it’s good to be few and free and strong, when they’re many and weak. I know I’m sitting on their structures, but I can leave and they can’t, the price they pay for visible permanence. I can float, sail, rise, dive, crossing oceans on my own, eating, drinking, resting, feeling happy and living just as long, with those I love flying alongside me. And I’ve never killed or hurt anyone. So of those two worlds, which one’s the better? And this Lord of theirs, does He know what company He keeps, what He has also wrought? But hey, thanks for this ledge, I needed that!

Dictum

Nothing is Absolute, Everything Implicit