sentiment

I have noticed since modernizing their logo, AT&T smacks of the Death Star in Star Wars. I wonder if when big corporate entities become the embodiments of evil, faceless and with an uncomfortable reach, that that is when something unreal called market-sentiment can really take rule. Big businesses have done a bang-up job of arousing suspicion and distrust, and naturally that's why governments see fit for this orgy of money-tossing. Though everyone is jagged for their slice of bailout-pie, it's these etheral corporations, who deal in invisible forces like banks, quasi-financial institutions like credit card companies, and any of the other concerns that bought into easy credit that are queued up for their share. Maybe it's because of this unreal, intangible aspect that such corporations are more prone to market hysteria. And though that has never before been charge for protectionism, except during times of overblown nationism and prejudice, the bundle of ventures that is the United States of America need to be safe-guarded from the whims of mood and sentiment first and foremost. Though auto-manufacturers and the like may have been sullied in the whole ordeal, what's called fundamental--that is, making things, should not be facing such a peril.

Snow Day

The weather has been drizzly and miserable (umbrellas, fo'drizzle--I saw that on a t-shirt once) and we've had some snow, but it's that shitty kind of snow, the sort that Jewish kids would get for Christmas, the spotty, sloppy and wet snow that makes for stress in traffic with the commuters reacting as if it's first time it has snowed north of the Alps. And maybe that it singles a time to call in favours, like a snowball's chance in Hell... I want blustering, orchestral snow-storms, the sort that bring about an amber or a red level to the road-conditions. The Army are wimps, sot of, in that regard, closing down operations for a blizzard that I am sure any German who is beyond his seasonal-driving amnesia would shrug off, but at least it's color-coded, like Threatcom and the Terror-Threat. We'd all have a jolly old snow day, like the kind that they used to grant for schools. As I recall, though, I always managed to get myself in trouble on snow days.

In Former East Germany, the Government works for You

After a traditional Thanksgiving dinner with my parents at the military dining facility (mess hall) and driving to H's hometown in the East, H made the glib comment that we could now visit all of our parents every weekend. Quite... We had a great time throughout, and though it was not my first trip, H wanted to know my impressions of the place--what thoughts would he have on seeing the Indian reservation where I was born. "Oh--that was my teepee," maybe accounting for why I had moved a grand 33 times--to follow the buffalo and not because my parents were on the lam for a coupon-counterfeiting scheme or some such thing. I'm bedazzled by everything, frankly. Here was the shell of a cathedral being rebuilt after it was dismantled, piecemeal, in 1968 and here an ersatz ruin erected in the 19th century by a masonic grand-master.

festoonery

As I lay in bed, anticipating the jiggly alarm, I was hoping for a snow day. This time of year comes with quite a bit of baggage--subconscious associations. There is the weather, for starters. I am not sure what's bigger in the end than weather. Climate and climate change, maybe... And then there's the holiday crunch, and despite the possibility of bleaker presents and slimmer prospects, absolutely no force of economic nastiness and institutional props can cut back on the audacious displays that is Christmas. Spirits might be temporarily dampened and a lot of things may happen that run a bit counter to the spirit of the season, but the gaudy decorations aren't stopped, though there be a procession creeping earlier and earlier, neither is A Charlie Brown Christmas, the Weihnachtsmarkt, nor Dinner for One. It's an extravaganza. So, and a bit early this year, merry Christmas you wonderful old Building & Loan!

gold bug

Over the weekend, H and I visited the rather remote and unsung ruins of castle. The site was pretty impressive and a grand castle like that in this area must have surely been a site to see. I misread or rather didn't fully comprehend the information board by the entrance, and announced that the castle was destroyed during the War. After asking what war and my answer of World War II, H read the board and told me that that because an American army officer was killed in the surrounding village, friends suggested that

the castle be strafed as part of a larger bombing operation on a nearby city. Behind ambiguous thoughts on the tragedy of that, I was convinced that this was a secret Nazi headquarters and there must have been a hidden gold repository housed there. Treaures. In addition to my occasional forays with my metal detector, I get inspired fairly regularly by either shiny things or stories about treasure hunting. In fact, after viewing National Treaure on TV, I continued my superficial and biased research into the fate of the Knights Templar and their supposed booty. I told H we might find a clue over New Year's holiday when we go to celebrate in Berlin. Where? I thought it was rather obvious--in Tempelhof (I think the Wikipedia article might lend me some credence), of course. A building that large had to be dual-purpose.

Mister S goes to the Fishmongers'

I appreciate the days when I'm home at the right times to keep things local-going, when I can go to the tiny market in my tiny village, walk about to the sort-yard for recycling and the flower shop to look and using the village bookie to play the lottery. It's charming and like something out of a children's story: Mister S goes to the Bakery to buy some buns for breakfast--"My what a fine and varied selection of breads you have today. Good day to you, as well, Frau Blooker." I forget how nice and simple that can be, from time to time.