leechcraft

I gave everbody a bit of a scare when I needed to be rushed to the emergency room, with all the signs, I had decided in the car, of a stroke or something else catastrophic.  I was admitted to the hospital and with friends and family, sort of puzzled through what else may have set off this frightening episode.  Going stepwise, it made sense what the less traumatic causes might have been and did wonders to relieve my worries, which I am sure just exaserbated and magnified every misplaced sensation.  At first, to me, nothing seemed particularly out of place, but it seemed I had succumbed to a terrible coalition of too much coffee, barometric pressure, aspirin, an empty stomach, laissez-faire tensions at work that conspired with a sinus headache and a panic attack.

 They seem like sensible and common enough experiences--shared to the extent I am sure I was not the first to make that mistake, but I suppose not intelligibly communicable until one experiences it for ones self.  A battery of tests, including an MRI that was a strange and artistic experience, isolated among the sounds of laser blasts and techno whale music, and an ultrasound scan on the veins in my neck eliminated the most dire causes.  The physcian admitted to me that 90% of the time, they never know what causes these things before discharging me the next day.  I just never though a series of mundane irritants could mimic--at least what I imagine it to be--the feeling of something scarier and much worse.  A panic attack, and I hope I am using the proper terminology, is by no means something innocent, and neither are the underlying anxieties and vulnerabilities that invite it in.

mätzchen

Unfortuneately, I think, the German government is buying more and more into gimmickery.  Despite arguments against initiating the program, the counterpart to the US Health and Human Services Secretary, Ursula von der Leyen (Minister of Families, Seniors, Women and Children and interested in other things as well, thank you very much) seems rather hell-bent on launching Germany-wide programs that certain communities have pieced together that would issue a credit-card to children of welfare (Hartz IV) that they can use instead of entry fees for museums, cultural events and sports centers.  Opponents maintain, like H said when it was first introduced, that it will be an affront to many parents, sending the message that they can't be relied on to provide enriching things for their own kids, and there is the prohibitive expense of issuing cards and card-readers to all these venues, especially little museums and sites that only charge nominal fees in the first place.  I imagine that carrying around a poor family's credit card would be a little sygmatizing as well.  I hope von der Leyen has good intentions with this program, but I suspect rather one can just follow the money and find who stands to see a profit off of this rather unnecessary installation.  It reminds me of the full body airport scanners that the EU was pressured into buying or to be later mothballed. 

Further, it is just like with the fancy transaction authorization number (TAN) generator calculators, which are meant to phase out mailing bank customers lists when they ran out of secure numbers.  The calculator works out a supposedly unbreakable random number by reading the magnetic stripe on one's bank cards.  This sounds to me like the algorithm that solves every Sudoku puzzle and takes the fun out of it.  Some banks are forcing this on their clients, but these gadgets were a bit premature, since Germany is now moving, maybe as a result of more outside influences and in response to the wishes of the US to monitor transactions for terrorist activity, to adopt standardized SWIFT banking parameters for their accounts and banking identification numbers (Bankleitzahlen--BLZ).  If the numbers can that drastically, I am sure those calculators will be useless and the banks will be obligated to buy a whole new batch of them.

unterhaltung

The movie industry is being very quick, escalating the technology, expense and application to diverse genres, to embrace three-dimensional technology.  A part of it I guess is supposed to be cutting-edge but 3-D movies already rose and fell out of favour, and I wonder if its not a belated and possibly unwelcome re-packaging and re-introduction, something nostalgic or forgotten and unknown.  I suppose also the entertainment industry leverages more control if its spectacle is relegated again to the theater.  A stage play or a live concert is a nice dose of engaging the audience.  Movies and the whole entertainment industry in general is struggling towards  hyperrealism, blurring the skirm and screen.  I wonder, however, where those fuzzy edges will be in a few years, re-mastering classic films like the colourization fad of the early 90s should the derth of originality continue.  Nonetheless, I can't fathom that 3D enhances the story-telling process, and no story ever told was not because of technical limitations from recited epic poetry to prose to big-budget films.  Entertainment, no matter what form it takes, still relies on the imagination of the spectator, otherwise it's not art or anything more creative than a carnival ride.  3D elements may have its place in reporting, and that may possibly one day help differentiate actual news from entertainment.

glass bottom boat

Over the weekend, I was visiting Bamberg.  We had a nice respite from the rainy, summer-smashing weather, bordering on too hot and unstirred, and decided to all take a leisurely drive through the Fränkische Schweiz in my parents fancy new convertible.  It was very nice to have have the breeze and the full panorama view of the tall old buildings of Bamberg and then the expanse of trees and mountains.  My parents had meet one another some thirty years before in Bamberg and really enjoyed the drive, showing me the spot where they had picnics and played frisbee and the rough cliff face at a place called Tiefenellern where they climbed up and found a little, secret cave.  Mostly, the landscape was unchanged and how they remembered it.  On the way back, we stopped at the manificent Seehof, the summer residence of the Prince-Bishop electors of Bamberg, in Memmelsdorf. 

This manor, when my parents first discovered it in the 70s, had been abandoned for 180 years and had fallen into disrepair.  My mother wanted to buy the neglected property, if she could, back then.  The gardens and grounds were impressive, and there was a water cascade, like the one at Linderhof, overlooking the artificial lake, that had a very ornate depiction of the exploits of Hercules.  I could make out the poor Nemean Lion and the foul birds and the golden apples, and Hercules being crowned by the Goddess of Fame.  I remember Hercules did not get credit for all these labours because he took short-cuts, like cleaning the dirty stables--he had help of two Rivers, here represented as the Main and Pegnitz, and as a result was assigned a harder task.

al Kaboom

The last US military combat brigade left Iraqi territory for Kuwait, primed to hand over security to native forces.  It seems strange how this day was recorded and perhaps how it will be remembered.  There was mention but secondary and no plays made for symbolism, though I am sure that there were plenty of regrets and remorse for those, both Iraqis and soldiers that were not able to see this day and for whom some measure of reconciliation came too late.  There was no walking back of protests, neither relief, jubulation nor latent anger expressed.  I don't know what the mood and sentiment was really when America withdrew from Vietnam or Korea but do not suspect that the day, symbolic or otherwise, passed with no recognition.  Following the overthrow of Saddam Hussein's regime, US bankster types helped redesign the dinar, which had been worth the equivalent of four US dollars prior to Iraq-Attacky I, and had been amazed since then that the Tower of Babel was portrayed on their money.  I am glad to have since learned that it is the Great Mosque of Samarra represented there, which was all but turned with skirmishes and US soldiers using the vantage point as an observation post.  Of course, I was convinced also that the elusive weapons of mass destruction absolutely had to be the Ark of the Covenant or the Leviathan.  I hope the people of Iraq can prosper because of or despite of the seven years of war and occupation.  Regardless of the spin and kangaroo court of the US, it was Iraqis that found Hussein and turned him over to authorities, wihout even broaching the question of whether it all was a legitimate aggression since even the claims later recanted could be attributed to everyone's want and need to appear tough and secure and collected to his neighbours and to his meddlers.  It wasn't the US involvement in Cambodia that affected change.  Rather, it was their surrender from Vietnam that allowed Vietnam to press for reform and offer assistance.

rain dance or come Josephine in my weather machine

Not without at least some circumstantial evidence, Russian academics are speculating, as reported by Radio Free Europe, that more and more climatologists are attributing the record wildfires and heat wave to DARPA and secret US technology that can control the weather. Not to cheapen the unimaginable human tragedy in Pakistan, but I wonder if the same Doctor Strangelove weapon has sunk a fifth of the country, in a bid to regain the hearts and minds of the population, whose government and predilections have been recently shown to be not in line with US interests, and perhaps lull more radical elements into submission. This new lend-lease operation may, however, play out in several ways, depending on the US strategy. If Western nations can provide charity and assistance to rebuild and keep the people of Pakistan healthy, then the warlords loose influence, but if it is al Qaeda that saves the people and destabilizes the government, the US has good reason to ratchet up its interference. That sounds diabolically like a win-win situation for the strategists. Maybe all this could take place without the deus ex machine of weather control but it sounds much better, and a little kooky conspiracy theory is very easy to dismiss and diverts unwanted investigation.  Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

sola fide

Schiller, Bach, Mozart and Luther, among others, are claimed by many, many towns and villages—to know Marx peered at that cliff from this observation platform or Brahms performed in that church—to the extent that it is always interesting and more than just trivia to have one’s biography filled in with disparate and renowned details, but sometimes too many places asserting their historical personage privileges can make one lose sight of the pinnacle moments. I have seen Luther in captivity in the Wartburg, his academic career in Eisenach and Erfurt, the nunnery where his future wife grew up in Brehna by Leipzig, the trials in Augsburg and Worms. All of these places are interesting and definitely not self-promoting tourists’ traps with specious connections to fame, but I often have forgotten it is in Wittenberg where Luther nailed the 95 Theses to the church door. While the antique Luther monuments are being cleaned for later anniversary celebrations, meanwhile the city of Wittenberg has set up this ersatz collection of garden gnomes on the market square, perhaps in a bid to regain exclusive Luther privileges. Some people are critical of this display, saying it is frivolous or unbecoming, but I think these colorful statues are more accessible to the people than some frightfully stern old bronze monolith and needs no justification.

tagesblatt

H and I made a short trip to Leipzig and there were a few fun and out of the ordinary items on the agenda.  We attended an organ concert performed at the Nikolaikirche, played incidentally on the largest instrument in Saxony.  The ancient church itself is famous for hosting more recently popular demonstrations against the East German regime and helped spur on the reunification.  It was relaxing and meditative to listen there sitting in the pews, focused on the music but with one's back to the performer, up in the rafters.  These two singular cherubs were the only figural decoration on the ceiling, and reminded me of that pop-culture, meme of the two angels that was remixed as those two grumpy old men, Statler and Waldorf, who heckled the Muppet Show from the theater box. 

Later, we went to a restaurant hewn out of a functioning brewry hewn out of the cavernous arrivals' hall of the old Bavarian Train Station.  The kettles and plumbing were expert equipment from Bamberg brewers, and apparently one could a take a workshop to learn about beer-making and make a few liters of one's own.

While we did not try that, we did take a souvenir bottle, packaged the traditional way, similar to a Bocksbeutel for wine from Franconia that my parents gave us. 

Later in the evening, we looked at the imposing Völkerschlachtdenkmal by twilight.  This monument is the tallest in Europe, out-doing Big Ben or the Eifel Tower, and is an absolutely massive remembrance of the defeat of Napoleon's armies in Leipzig, and honoring those who fought on both sides to bring a decisive, if temporary, peace to the warring nations.