zum mitnehmen oder latchkey take-away

Germany is a comparatively neat and tidy place, but there are quite a few problem spots and scapegoats for litter. Politicians are targeting one visible culprit, with some precedence and a mixed record of success, in Munich and Berlin by proposing levying a fast food tax on the disposable remains of daily routines—coffee cups, greasy bags, waxy paper. Not wanting to dispatch more sanitation workers on new beats or provide ever growing waste-bins, however, the tax scheme, borne by the cafes and fast food outfits that produce these leavings and pass the costs on to the consumer, seems to be only punitive.

Believe it or not, the judicial system in Germany only lets stand taxation programmes that somehow benefit, and not merely punish, those who pay into it. In fact, most of the litter that one sees is from take-away (or quickly overflowing from public trash receptacles) and is quite easily traced by to its source through shameless branding. No industry is a paradigm of cleanliness, though, just some are better hidden and less identifiable.  While I agree that something should be done and the producers might need to acknowledge a little more responsibility for the lifestyle they are promoting, I am not sure how it can be legislated without providing special consideration and extra services for the litterbugs. Berlin’s scheme encourages people to bring their own mugs to coffee stands to avoid the surcharge, and I’ve been to quite a few festivals that not only charge a deposit fee, refunded when one busses their own cups, steins and glasses back to the counter, but also on paper plates, plastic cups and disposable knives and forks. Take-out culture might need a little fine-tuning, with more trash redeemable to ensure it’s disposed of properly. What do you think? Should snack bars and fast food operators be saddled with the financial or the collection responsibility of their disposables or ought the matter of civic pride just be left up to the patrons?

timetable or free-on-board

The Bundesrat (Germany’s upper house of the legislature) has voted to remove long-standing protections on the national railway network, the Deutsche Bahn, to allow competition for commuter and holiday travel from long-distance, inter-city bus and coach companies. After much debate and research, parliament, risking the displeasure of this established institution, determined that the virtual monopoly should be allowed to lapse, since private enterprise could offer travelers alternatives adhering to environmental standards, at a discount and with greater flexibility.

One quoted example was that with advance-planning and some luck, one can book a trip from Dusseldorf to Berlin from 69 € by train—currently, one’s only option, compared to a 28 € bus trip, a rate probably gotten without reservations. The train people naturally were not happy with this decision, but a healthy outside challenge may drive them to tighten up some service areas that have atrophied a bit—especially punctuality and overlording tariffs that keep increasing. The environmental hook, however, does bother me a bit, since bus-liners are as prone to traffic congestion and jams (Staus) and makes me think of the enlightened (and no less controversial choice) to allow these big rigs, giant trucks on the streets, because they eked out fuel efficiency with capacity—though no one wants these marauding beasts to hog their roads. Trains, I imagine, have already seen pretty big losses in terms of freight and cargo due to trucking.  The government has not stripped away all the railroads’ advantage, still limiting regional traffic for public transportation, but I want there to be sufficient measures left in place to ensure that the public train system is not scuttled by private concerns, like elsewhere and erstwhile, leaving unfavourable or under-performing routes without any kind of service.

four-square and eight-bit

Considering the estimable impact and pioneering influence the surprisingly simple and intuitive yet habit-forming diversion Tetris had on the video game landscape, it seems ironic that the concept and programming, built in turn off of earlier mathematical models and gaming traditions that go back to antiquity, Connect-Four or Penta (that glass bead game with the scroll for the playing area that they sold at Pier One), emerged not from the US or Japan but rather the Moscow Academy of Computer Sciences in 1984, spreading to Western markets prior to glasnost and faster than conventional diplomacy in just a matter of months. Did you know that tetrominoes fall in accordance with the laws of gravity, accelerating in proportion to the height of the stacks below?

The game does not speed up only due to advancing levels—it’s kind of an unsettling surprise, like not learning about the secret levels of Super Mario Brothers until years afterwards or that (supposedly) Duck Hunt is really a two-player game. Back when the notions of licensing, clones and copycatting were mostly unexplored and untried and there was not a sufficient language to articulate intellectual property, surely the author did not know what he was releasing and signing-away. The game is now ubiquitous, with variants and inspired plays, integrated into the standard quiver of distractions for telephones, key-fobs, greeting cards—but it is strange to think how technology might have been less ingratiating or progress hindered without the earlier platforms of Nintendo Game Boys and the like (because by 1989 many competitors also held distribution rights to different versions of Tetris for play on personal computers and home gaming systems, Nintendo developed a new hand-held console to get around rights issues), propelled to a large extent by that basic game and its catchy tune of the Russia folk song Korobeiniki (Коробейники).

footwear nomenclature

simulacra, simulcast or a night at the opera

The Bavarian State Opera is offering this season, with an aim to expand its audience and nestle culture comfortably on the sofa, by premiering a live-feed and streaming video on the internet of its stage performances. This outreach initiative is at no cost for any viewer who cares to watch, unlike some other houses that charge a subscription fee, and quite a bit of enhanced production value is going into the making, with dozens of cameras and microphones and back-stage tours and interviews with the performers during intermission. Anything that one can assay alone and with divided attention of course does match the experience of the commitment and being part of an audience corralled as a fourth wall, but I think the efforts are laudable in themselves and will garner a good return for the stake and investment, and I plan to play along at home.

Although this installation is not part of the historic opera house in Munich but the State Opera of Saxony in Dresden, I thought it was a comical touch to put one of the world’s first “digital” clocks (with Roman numerals that scrolled by the minutes and hours) above the stage—I suppose so patrons could be discrete about wondering when the show would end, without having to dig out their pocket-watches. I do think it’s important that it be live, however, and an occasion for dressing-up—even if one is only going as far as the living-room. Opera was never meant to be elitist and inaccessible and was traditionally quite the opposite, but I think now people shy away from the commitment of time and would rather call it so. What do you think? Is this offering expanding the audience, like a pay-per-view match or post-game camaraderie, or is it like putting church on television and only mildly engaging?

castor fieber

Decades after the extinction of the wild population and subsequent reintroduction programmes in the 1950s, the beaver is making a come-back in Switzerland. Its successful return, however, is being threatened by the same human encroachment that probably caused the animal to die out in the first place: Swiss terrain and the roadways that crisscross it creates sanctuaries, albeit isolated ones, and beavers colonies do not get to sample much genetic diversity due to traffic.

To maintain and promote healthy populations, there should be congress between members on both sides of the Rhône. Animal advocates in the Geneva (Genf) region were hoping to make drivers more cautious and aware of the beavers’ plight and need for an increased range through new signage. The government of the capital of the confederation in Bern, however, did not appreciate this unsanctioned effort—though vetted by the canton. By law, the only official animal crossing traffic sign features a deer in a warning triangle—regardless of what might creep, fly or gallop into the road—boars, wolves, foxes, hedgehogs, bears, etc. I thought that reasoning was a little unfair and obtuse at first, but then I realized probably the same restriction is in effect in Germany, since thinking about it, I’ve never seen anything besides a leaping deer warning, except for farm animals and for frogs on the march. Maybe the government will change its mind and allow their signs, and regardless, the group and the beavers probably got more attention out of the controversy than had they just been left alone.

holiday cavalcade: memento mori and yakety sax

Although November seems brimming already with holidays and observances, beginning with All Saints’ and All Souls’ Day, Armistice Day and the American traditions of election day, Veterans’ Day and Thanksgiving, and the beginning of the season of Carnival—plus the general preparation and planning for celebrations to follow, which team up like some festive Voltron to really fill one’s calendar, the peripatetic and always interesting Mental Floss complements the month with fifteen alternate and off-beat anniversaries and fests.

On the coat-tails of Halloween and Día de los Muertos, there is a rather morbid but necessary invocation on 2 November for one to draft his or her own epitaph, since that’s a part of estate planning more enduring than one’s will—what’s on one’s tombstone and by what pith and consequence one is remembered. The anniversary of the discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamun, and awakening of the curse, by British archaeologist Howard Carter comes on 4 November, with the tumultuous remembrance of Guy Fawkes Night coming right afterwards. Later, on 14 November, as two more sort of macabre reminder, it is the US public-service announcement call to take back one’s unused and unneeded prescription medications to the pharmacy to prevent misuse, also possibly a cue to reassess one’s health and whether the meds are working, and it is the United Nations’ World Diabetes awareness day. To lighten the mood a bit, there are the interstitial anniversaries of the invention of the saxophone by Adolphe Sax on 6 November and following on 7 November another challenge one’s embrasure with International Tongue Twister Day. See the complete list at Mental Floss, but the month ends with day honouring Mars, the red planet—as our cosmological neighbour and not as a ruling-house or as the god of war, who already has a month named in his honour. What other holidays and occasions can you think of that are vying for attention during this time and might be a refreshing distraction from the mainstream holiday-hustle?

a new hope

There has been an explosion of rash and petulant criticism of the news announcement that the Disney Corporation will acquire Skywalker Ranch, and proposes to carry on the saga through to its conclusion, as was the original vision, and beginning production of Episode VII in the coming year. While I was disappointed with the prequels and am wary of certain eddies in production, I do feel that there is little cause to worry over spoiling the memories of a classic.