furor teutonicus

There has been much fanfare over the past week about a survey (Umfrage) of the American public that confirms a general affinity between Germans and their American cousins.

 I am sure that it is a combination of factors, like many Americans having some German ancestry, military partnerships—at least an understanding—familiar products, like beer, food and automotives, that could have endured as a tacit acknowledgment, as I am sure it has for years. Slow-news days are probably also a contributing dynamic. Depth of knowledge and stereotypes aside—the thrust of the battery of interview questions and responses seem to mainly involve economics—I wonder if American public perceptions of Germans aren’t a focus, an ideal corrective lens for how they’d like to see themselves. Secure and stable and comfortably bourgeois without the outward signs of massive inequity or fanaticism or hysteria; socially and environmentally conscious yet relatively conservative and traditional without excluding other persuasions. It seems this way, at least. The two acts are not connected, but it really does seem the antithesis (and not a reciprocation or extension—perhaps rather a back-handed compliment), but it does seem strange that the European Union parliament moved to back accords (Abkommen) to share air-traveler data between Europe and the US. The American security apparatus will have fifteen years to ruminate over their guests’ profiles, but the judgment that this was not in violation of individuals’ privacy rights rather lowers the standard, instead of giving America a standard to aspire to.

rosamunde

One would assume that all cultural trappings of a place are as old as the hills, however, like Oktoberfest, Biergärten in Germany just marked their two-hundredth anniversary this year. The German brewing purity laws had already been in effect for centuries when Bavarian King Maximilian I allowed that brewers could serve beer from their cooling vats in January of 1812.

For reasons of temperance and temperature, for fermentation and the heat from boiling huge quantities of water, beer could only be manufactured from early Autumn to late Spring, between the feast days of Saint Michael and Saint George. And though this ensured superior beer and reduced the risk for fires, suppliers, hoteliers and restaurateurs risked running out of beer for the summertime. As a solution, the bigger breweries in Munich (and spreading elsewhere) constructed giant cellars along the banks of rivers for storing the cooling vats. Shade from trees and gardens planted atop these buried barrels further helped regulate the temperature. Soon, the major brewers began serving customers directly. Quickly these bootleg establishments became popular retreats, but guesthouses in town, fearing losing more customers, petitioned the King to bar these garden-parties from serving food, other than bread which evolved into the host fare that one can find at traditional Biergärten. This appeased the smaller breweries (without property fronting the river) and restaurants, but also created a rich and enduring tradition out of a work-around.

o du fröhliche or shutter-speed

I suppose there is no bigger challenge for amateur photography than a lively Christmas Market (Weihnachts-markt, Christ-kindlmarkt) in its native setting, the festive glow of the booths under an icy sky and many attractions quite kinetic, like the giant Pyramid of the Leipzig, sort of a wooden carousel with Christmas figures that's propelled by the heat of flames. Leipzig's fair is among the eldest traditions in Germany, along with nearby Dresden and Bautzen, and decorated with the holiday trappings and influence of the Ore Mountains' (Das Erzgebirge) arts and crafts.

Beneath the spinning installation, a booth serves a insulating and potent cup of fortified punch called Feuerzangenbowle, a variation on Glüwein--a conditum paradoxum, a "spiced-surprise" in Latin. The sheltered arcades that crisscross the old city were also decked out dazzlingly, like this tall and illuminated tree around the corner from Auerbachs Keller, the historic restaurant, older than the Christmas market itself, that was made famous by Marlowe's and Goethe's Faust. Christmas trees, I understand, became the more dominant symbols of the season but still share a place alongside their highland and up-land forebears, the Pyramide, and creates a composition that really sets the mood--memorable, despite the challenges of sharing that scene and atmosphere in pictures.

elevensies

Quirks of the calendar are certainly something to take notice of, especially when one considers how these days were ordained, pre-determined since the beginning of time, driven by calendar-reforms, the base of our numbers systems, and other events. Today, I read in the paper, an area, in Germany where it is also the Feast Day of Saint Martin when geese are rounded-up and devoured like turkeys on Thanksgiving for giving away the reluctant saint's whereabouts to Church authorities and children parade with paper lanterns, holding a nighttime vigil, brother and sister (twins) are celebrating their eleventh birthday. Patterns tend to rise above the din, but that's really a story in itself to mark this day.  What would your story be?

artful dodger

There has been a rash of headlines from all over the United States, disturbing yet fascinating, about metal thieves poaching copper and other scrap from all sources, without discrimination or regard for safety or cost to the public. There have been multiple reports of gangs dismantling rail road tracks causing trains to derail, stripping utility poles, antique fittings and fixtures or unthreading the copper condensing tubing from air-conditioning units. To replace this old infrastructure will certainly be expensive, not even beginning to consider the hardships individuals and municipalities are facing to find support systems taken for granted have been pulled out from underneath them. These crimes are desperate, with gold and silver already priced out of the market for most--and melting pennies is not a productive activity since the copper content of cents has been replaced with zinc, and the US Secret Service, as part of its original task to prevent counterfeiting and protect the money supply's integrity, have made it illegal to deface bills and coins. I wonder what the composition of these gangs are: a pick-pocket band of Dickensian street urchins, a swarm of nano-sized robots picking things clean like termites or a plague of locusts, copper hungry Vogons, or a mad-scientist trying to build a Voltron. I wonder what this junkyard trend forebodes for the economy.

Amerikanischen Metalldiebe sind in jüngster Zeit in die Schlagzeilen geraten. Ohne Rücksicht auf die Gefahr oder öffentlichen Preis, abwerben die Bande aus allen Quellen: Bahngleise, Leitungsmasten, antik Einbau, oder Rohre vom Klimaanlagen. Das Ersetzen dieser Infrastruktur wird teuer sein, und Gemeinschaften leiden den Verlust des Unterstützungs-systemen. Diese Verbrechen sind verzweifelt versuchte. Gold und Silber halten für die meisten Leute zu kostspielig, und das Schmelzen von Pennies für Kupfer geht auch nicht--denn das Hauptmetall Zink ist. In der ursprünglichen Tagesordnung sollten die US Geheimdienst der Geldmenge wahrnehmen. Es ist strafbar, Geld zu ändern oder zerstören. Wer sind die Mitglieder dieser Rotten? Taschendiebe aus der Zeit von Charles Dickens, schwärmenden Nanotechnologie, Metall-hungrig außerirdischen Leben, oder ein verrückte Wissenschaftler mit einem grossen Projekt? Ich muss mich fragen, was genau diese Schrottplatz Entwicklung für die Wirtschaft bedeutet.

tag des bieres

Today also marks another historical anniversary that has shaped the way beer is brewed and enjoyed for centuries: from Ingolstadt in the year 1516, Bavarian Duke William IV instituted the “Bavarian Purity Law”—the Reinheitsgebot (EN/DE) to standardize beer product and introduce price controls that would mitigate the spikes in demand for wheat and barley. With some puritanical influences building off of Emperor Barbarossa’s earlier call for an industry standard, the variety of beers and beer brewing processes and alternate ingredients which often produced much more intoxicating brews were by law curtailed and relegated to monasteries and registered brewers, and not experimental moonshiners. Setting down this standard has of course influenced the way beer is made not just in Germany but also where ever German brewers set up shop or lent their expertise to help get a company started, like in America or even the old German colonial city of Tsingtao, China. It is something to think about next time you are enjoying a refreshing beverage.  Prost!