If counted well the Germans today can/could watch Dinner for one (The 90th Birthday) - history here - 16 times at different times on various TV-channels, and aside from the original in various German dialects inclusive a Swiss version.
Very strange folks, the Germans.
Well, judge for yourself.
Tiny tip-off: Be absolutely determined not to laugh.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Where there is a will ...
... there is no way.
No one will come to know why I laughed til I cried, yesterday night.
Neither there will anyone come to know why I (almost) desperately cried tonight.
[At least, not now.]
... ' cause I would not tell, which again would be another story.
Laughter and sadness: siblings they are.
Thus, to all who – despite I do find amazing that so many people in 2011 would still be conditioned to believe in what they have been told in their youth:
Don't start thinking (yourself). Just enjoy what you have been taught to think you believe: Merry whatever.
Don't start thinking (yourself). Just enjoy what you have been taught to think you believe: Merry whatever.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Nothing to share
(Even when you are longing:)
Sadness can not be shared.
You may talk about to one person, to ten, to hundreds.
Even if being empathic: No one will feel the same. None will (be able to) share your sadness.
Same goes for love, for any of your feelings. They are unique.
You are unique.
I am unique.
Hoorah!
The peace of the night.
...
And what is when they grow 232 kg of sweet corn to produce one litre of ethanol?
Now, that's organised stupidity / crime.
I am not willing to share.
 |
| Kestrel, not in need of maize/ethanol. |
Friday, December 09, 2011
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
Sunday, December 04, 2011
Friday, December 02, 2011
Thursday, December 01, 2011
Nebulosity
 | ||
| 'The markets are getting nervous.' The markets are important? Ha ha ha ha ... up til ... infinity ... |
The photo's being taken by the astrophysicist on his recent (private) session.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Cover Story 0004 - Ch.18_a
Well, as you can easily see here, I decided to change the title. August 13th, 2010 this happened. Could not explain why, but I felt not comfortable with the idea, and thus cover story 0004 after 18 chapters* got covered with a dust layer.What we talk about when we talk about love
Dreams of dreams
Confusion of the feelings
First love, [last rites]
Days of joy
Erogenous zone
Nights of love and laughter
Kama Sutra
The orgy - an idyll
Little misunderstanding of no importance
Don Juan's temptation
The Siren
An occasion of sin
Suspicion
Now it rains slaps in the face
I want to know why
A touch of chill
Rituals
Sexus
Perhaps it will again, and you will not come to know the end of the story. That is why I think I should give you at least a glimpse of what you might miss:
* actually 17, as yours truly scatterbrain had jumped from Chapter 4 to Chapter 6 :)
Thursday, November 24, 2011
The big black bird has come
Bye, bye, Wiggerl. Thanks for all, and: Werd' endlich glücklich!
Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, komm jetzt!
Schau, das Fenster ist weit offen,
schau, i hab Dir Zucker aufs Fensterbrett g'strat.
Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, komm zu mir!
Spann' Deine weiten, sanften Flügel aus
und leg s' auf meine Fieberaugen!
Bitte, hol mi weg von da!
Und dann fliegen wir auf,
mitten in'n Himmel,
in a neuche Zeit, in a neuche Welt,
und i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
ich werd' "es gibt's net" schrei'n,
weil i werd' auf einmal kapier'n,
worum sich alles dreht.
Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, hilf mir doch!
Preß' Deinen feuchten, kalten Schnabel
auf meine wunde, auf meine heiße Stirn!
Komm großer schwarzer Vogel,
jetzt wär's grad günstig!
Die anderen da im Zimmer schlafen fest
aber ganz leise san,
dann hört uns die Schwester net!
Bitte, hol mich weg von da!
Und dann fliegen wir auf,
mitten in'n Himmel,
in a neuche Zeit, in a neuche Welt,
und i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
und i werd' "das gibt's net" schrei'n,
weil i werd' auf einmal kapier'n,
worum sich alles alles dreht.
Ja? Großer schwarzer Vogel? Endlich!
I hab' Dich gar nicht einikommen g'hört,
wie lautlos Du fliegst,
mein Gott, wie schön Du bist!
Auf geht's, großer schwarzer Vogel, auf geht's!
Bye bye, meine Lieben daham!
Du, mein Mäderl, Mama, Papa!
Bitte, vergeßt's mi net!
Auf geht's, mitten in'n Himmel,
net traurig sein, mm mm!
's ist kein Grund zum Traurigsein!
Weil i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
i werd' "es gibt's net" schrei'n,
i werd' endlich kapier'n,
i werd' glücklich sein!
Ja, I werd' singen, und i werd' lachen,
und i werd' "Es gibt's net!" schrei'n,
i werd' endlich kapier'n,
i werd' endlich glücklich sein!
And here's a both quick and humble first attempt to translate from the Austrian. Suggestions for improvement are welcome.
Well, you will understand, anyway.
Come, big black bird, come now!
Look, the window is wide open,
look, I've spread sugar on the sill for you.
Come, big black bird, come to me!
Span your wide gentle wings,
and put them on my fevereyes!
Please, get me away from here!
And then we fly up
right into the middle of heaven,
into a new time, into a new world,
and I'll sing, I'll laugh,
I'll scream "Es gibt's net!"*,
'cause all of a sudden I'll get
what all is about.
Come, big black bird, so help me, please!
Put your wet cold beak
on my sore, on my hot brow!
Come, big black bird,
now there's the opportunity!
The others in the room are sleeping deeply,
but let's be very quiet,
so that the nurse won't hear us.
Please, get me away from here!
And then we fly up
right into the middle of heaven,
into a new time, into a new world,
and I'll sing, I'll laugh,
and I'll scream "Es gibt's net"*,
'cause all of a sudden I'll get
what all is about.
Yes? Big black bird? At last!
I didn't hear you come in,
how soundless you fly –
my God, how beautiful you are!
C'mon, big black bird, c'mon!
Bye bye, my dear one's at home.
You, my girl, ... Mama ... Papa.
Please, don't forget me!
C'mon, into the middle of heaven.
[Ah] Don't be sad ... mm mm [no no no];
There's no reason for sadness,
'cause I'll sing, I'll laugh,
I'll scream "Es gibt's net!",
I shall at last understand,
I'll be happy.
Yes, I'll sing, and I'll laugh,
and I'll scream "Es gibt`s net",
At last I'll understand,
At last I'll ... be happy.
* I did not come to think of a proper translation for this idiom. It's meaning is somewhere between "I don't believe it" and "My arse!" :)
Monday, November 21, 2011
200 years later bowing with respect
“But paradise is locked and bolted...
We must make a journey around the world
to see if a door has perhaps been left open.”
Heinrich von Kleist (October 10th, 1777 – November 21st, 1811)
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Fog is back
Today we had the first fog.
and before I am going to close down my youtube-channel,
once again:Hermann Hesse, November 1905
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Monday, November 07, 2011
Friday, November 04, 2011
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Nine little deaths
There is a project I am thought to have finished next Friday.
Not one line I wrote today.
End of the beforegoing.
She is 87. For the past two years I have been – as I call it – her life-whisperer.
Today I felt my magic is fading. Nine times – each time out of the blue while we were talking – sighs. Suddenly. Her eyes far far away. Her body stiffening (if that's the right word).
In the next moment my right arm around her, holding her right shoulder, the left hand taking her right: "I am here. mmmm ... I am here. Hear me, mother? I am with you. Hear me?"
After a few seconds: "Yes." – Yes? – "Yes, I hear you."
Relief. Nine times. Nine times. Nine times!
In between: Anecdotes. Many. Wisdom. Deep wisdom. Yes. Death was a topic, too. Naturally, hm? Lots of laughter. Heartily laughter. Both being aware of ... the possibilities.
But please don't immediately close my coffin ... hahaha ... I might not be dead.
Please, don't buy anything new. Take the red sweater and the green skirt. They will be easy to put on when I am not too stiff. And ...
Got me?
You ought to be glad that my knowledge of the English language is but rudimental.
Otherwise I'd perhaps/probably bore you with a wonderful story. A story that could teach you quite some tiny bits about life and death, about trust and (a kind of) love.
In lieu thereof I shall shut up.
Will I find sleep?
I hope both we will wake up in the morning.
That's life.
The peace of the night.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Sunday, October 09, 2011
Saturday, October 08, 2011
Friday, October 07, 2011
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
Time to be thankful
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Monday, October 03, 2011
Saturday, October 01, 2011
Counterwindmillism
 |
| Sensational aerial photography of a valiant battle in the Mancha Patata of Seanhenge. |
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sergeant Pluck on the Theory of Atomics
"Haben Sie denn als junger Bursche nie die Atomphysik studiert?" fragte der Sergeant und betrachtete mich forschend und erstaunt.
"Nein", antwortete ich.
"Das ist eine schwerwiegende Unterlassung", sagte er. "ich werde Ihnen trotzdem eine Ahnung davon vermitteln. Alles besteht aus kleinen Partikeln seiner selbst, und diese fliegen in konzentrischen Kreisen herum und im Bogen und in Segmenten und in unzähligen geometrischen Figuren, die so zahlreich sind, daß man sie gar nicht kollektiv erwähnen kann, und diese stehen nie still oder ruhen sich mal aus, nein, sie trudeln vor sich hin und flitzen mal hier-, mal dahin und gleich wieder zurück, immer auf Achse. Diese kleinwinzigen Herrschaften nennt man Atome. Können Sie mir scharfsinnig folgen?"
"Sie sind so lebhaft wie zwanzig Kobolde, die auf einem Grabstein Reigen tanzen."
"Die Atomik ist ein sehr verzwicktes Theorem, und man kann ihr mit Hilfe der Algebra beikommen, man muß dabei aber graduell vorgehen, denn sonst kann es passieren, daß man die ganze Nacht damit verbringt, einen kleinen Teil davon mit Rechenschiebern und Kosinen und anderen ähnlichen Instrumenten zu beweisen, ohne zum Schluß an das zu glauben, was man bewiesen hat ...
"Daher und infolgedessen", fuhr er fort, "können Sie getrost folgern, daß auch Sie aus Atomen hergestellt sind, und dasselbe gilt auch für Ihre Hosentasche und den Schoß Ihres Hemdes und das Instrument, das Sie zur Entfernung von Speiseresten aus der Krümmung Ihres hohlen Zahnes verwenden ..."Das Brutto- und Nettoresultat davon ist, daß die Persönlichkeit von Menschen, die die meiste Zeit ihres natürlichen Lebens damit verbringen, die steinigen Feldwege dieser Gemeinde mit eisernen Fahrrädern zu befahren, sich mit der Persönlichkeit ihrer Fahrräder vermischt – ein Resultat des wechselseitigen Austausches von Atomen –, und Sie würden sich über die hohe Anzahl von Leuten in dieser Gegend wundern, die halb Mensch und halb Fahrrad sind ...
Sergeant Pluck's Atomic Theory rates not only as one of Jams O'Donnell's favourite literary creations. Thus, as the Esquire thought it was high time he shared it with both of his readers in the hope of getting them on to buy the Third Policeman, on Omnium – with thanks to Harry Rowohlt who congenially translated The Third Policeman / Der dritte Polizist – the Sergeant does speak German.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Astronight in Seanhenge
Friday, September 23, 2011
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