BAföG

The English Daily the local features an article about a unique academy, at least in Germany, that's not too far from Bad Karma, our fair city, that specializes in training in the funerary arts. Surely there are other trade schools and apprenticeships but this sort of hybridized vocational college does not seem to be part of the European educational model of apprenticeship and rigour.

I have been by the campus--the buildings and the mock-graveyard, and it does not seem like a fly-by-night organization--I am sure it's a fine and respectable institution but it just bothers me how the exceptionalness of the place was stressed.  Death and disposition certainly are regulated by deeply personal and cultural norms as well--the climate for mourning and expression of grief as well as celebration and remembrance. Though any local mention is a bit noteworthy, the piece probably caught my attention more so because we are right now slowly making our way through the series Six Feet Under, whose method is genius, for its macrabe and morbidness and quirky professional insights into to both the business and people's attitudes towards it. This miniature diorama of the show is from a Belgian network's prime-time line-up promotion. Must see TV.

vox populi

There is a strange dichotomy between the revolt raging in the Middle East and in the protests in the former powerhouses of agriculture and industry in the US. The organization and hierarchy of needs are of course substantively different, but there is precious little that separates the movements--maybe an empty shaft or the ventilation causeways that have become a plot-device in all sorts of capers, and the two are like service-elevators, parallel, and on the descent, on the ascent. Illusory, desultory freedoms are a fair diversion, and could be so much more meaningful, but count for little to a citizenry and government in hock to a few corporate magnates that have turned welfare and gainful employment to a Ponzi scheme of incubating funds until the whole game collapses. Those struggling for their basic rights should not have such a grasping avarice to look forward to after facing such challenges. Solidarity is profound for both movements, but there are comparable, though one decidedly more insidious, propaganda machines that try to turn support and opinion.

There's the daffy, convoluted censorship of some of these nervous dictatorships and the more innocent seeming sting of debate that the US is pushing: instead of all workers fighting for the same benefits as those in the civil sector or investigating for themselves the possible motivations and maneuvers behind the debate. Undermining the those traditional totems of partisan powers, union reciprocation the liberal parties, may be more politically expedient--inciting division, rather than discussing concessions and compromise.

Though in a supposedly civil and advanced society, it is difficult to see beyond the greed of the game, but insuring that there is no choice in future leadership--and work and mobility are likewise constrained--and power is more and more concentrated in the few.

International Workers of the World commissioned artist Eric Drooker to design them this terrific poster for what's surely to come if dialogue cannot be encouraged.  The choice of mascot makes quite a statement--reminescent of that 9-volt battery cat or Le Chat Noir.

ersatz or informed consent

Last week, the local featured a brief article on the practice--seemingly more the custom rather than the breach, of German physicians to prescribe placebos (from the Latin for I shall please) to treat a narrow range of ailments rather than genuine medications. Just as treatment and healing can be spurred by the belief and trust of the patient in the sugar-pill can have subtle, complex and powerful results, the debate that this disclosure raises is equally complex.

German physicians, rather than being pressured by the insurance and pharmaceutical industry, as such a widespread practice is litigiously contentious and would never be condoned by the business, and have better intentions when it comes to deception for medical intervention. Some patients certainly demand drugs and treatment, and I imagine doctors sometimes have little choice but to placate them, and if minor discomforts can be cured (by the patient's mind) without the risk of promoting over-conditioning where antibiotics are made ineffective by being prescribed too freely or of side effects (Nebenwirkung), which are less culturally tolerated than in over-the-counter societies. It is, however, a bit dangerous to sow distrust, as the distinction between real and trick medicine becomes blurred, and any pharmaceutical's efficacy could be compromised by lack of faith.  The strength of medicine is in large part lent.  Doctors are not infallible and there's a lot of guesswork and intuition involved, but insisting on treatment against solicited advice is ignoring the physician's years of training and experience. Contemporary medical practice could be seen as snake oil and quackery by future generations. There was never a control-group for leech-mongering. As long as the patient is not endangered, and the physician must not only know what medicine to prescribe or not prescribe but also must have the skill to foster a relationship with the patient, which is unmatched by just dispensing what's fashionable, I would not suspect one to feel deceived but rather honoured that the doctor could help the patient heal himself.

parsley thief

Gourmand and recipe blog Food 52 (via Huffington Post) shares an array of dishes with sophisticated taste yet very simple to prepare, provided one can overcome the dual hitches of unfamiliarity and cooking languor. Recipe searches that can round-up, given a list of ingredients at hand, dinner ideas are clever things and sometimes motivational, but perhaps without an assigned challenge, one is too quick to fall back into old habits. I like how this one site takes the extra step, to ensure excuses are at a premium, of listing substitute items--acceptable alternatives instead of just shopping to the recipe.

Maybe the more obvious draw-back--hitch, however, is that these meals are poised to promote the vegetarian agenda--at least that's what the take-away is. Food is political and politicized enough without the appeal to meatless Mondays, which to many sounds like a dire austerity, an anachronistic sacrifice, and not like the invitation it really is to take smaller steps. Despite whatever flurry and preponderance of facts about sustainability is heard or ignored and whatever the individual's belief and convictions, attitudes and not the means, like so much genetically modified cropstuffs, climate change or fields of grain diverted as fuel-filler, should be what's weaponized. Quinoa will always seem a bit exotic and inaccessible, and that's not necessarily a bad thing, but experimentation won't be broached with something on such a short and divisive fuse. Cuisine should not be ceded to the apothecary or potentate--or vice-versa. The art and activity of cooking is an achievement, regardless of one's talents and propensities, and expression but should not be mobbed with opinion and vitriol. There are a good deal of recipes that can reflect one's stance and conduct, without alienating the conscience and scruples of others, just by what's omitted. Menu reduction and replacement might also be interesting food experiment.

sunday drive: fantasery

After managing to revive the Bulli from her Winter’s hibernation without much effort or hardship, we took her for a calisthenics drive through the woods and over the mountains to the fair city of Fulda. We had explored the historic part of town with its impressive abbey transformed into a basilica as a reliquary for the remains of Saint Boniface, apostle and patron of the Germans and founding archbishop of Mainz, which was constructed as a tribute to the original St. Peter’s in Rome (not the one today at the Vatican), and baroque adornments, so we also visited the abbot’s Propstei (Provostship) at Johannesberg.

The steeples and towers rising up from the start of the Hessen Alleenstraße (manicured, tree-lined lanes) was quite something but the complex of buildings, though well preserved with the chapel still there, was converted to more of a office-park, with an information-technology company and a realtor there. Next we stopped at the Schloss Fasanerie (DE)—as in pheasant-hunting, although I insisted on mispronouncing it “fantasery,” as in some place fantastic.

This was an absolutely massive but typical German weekend hunting retreat. The façade of the main building of the lodge was undergoing restoration but it was neat to be able to stroll down the long, continuous corridor through the endless scullery, lager, weems and stables. For its size, it seemed a model of efficiency and industry for entertaining, and I was impressed with the bath for the horses after a long day of pursuit.