Peculiar.
Originally, tonight I intended to drop a few words about why I would not be able to drop a few posts for a couple of days.
And now I am sitting here, thinking of a few people who enriched my life for quite a few decades and who recently took their last dwelling six feet under.
Ulrich Mühe (July 22nd)
George Tabori (July 23rd)
Ingmar Bergman (July 30th)
Michelangelo Antonioni (July 31st)
Today Luciano Pavarotti.
And tomorrow?
Coincidences. Coincidences?
No necrologies to follow, don’t worry. There has been shown, told, written enough about these artists.
But I shall not stop myself to tell that non of his plays impressed me more than this “joke” by the man who in a way was the obstetrician to a serious reflection of the holocaust and other atrocities “made in Germany”: George Tabori:
[To understand you need to know: Witz means joke]
”Wie lautet der kürzeste deutsche Witz? - Auschwitz.”
”What is the shortest German Witz? - Auschwitz.”
It was - I think – for this sentence that I dropped more than one tear – when I heard this wonderful wise human being ("There are tabus that need to be destroyed") had done his last breath.
