Was motiviert zur Solidarität?

Evochris verlinkt heute in einem Nebensatz auf Sandra Charlotte (immerhin besser als “Helena Selene” oder “Yorrick-Nein”), der zur Nationalhymne nichts einfällt außer “Nazi”.

Ich konnte die mal auswendig, die Hymne. Heute ist nur noch “Einigkeit und mmmh und mmmmmmhmhm, für mmmh mhmmmh mmhhmhm” übrig. Also muss Google her.
Der Text ist von 1841 von von Fallersleben. Nietzsche und Tucholsky, welch seltsames Paar von Aussage-Brüdern, fanden sie doof.

“Deutschland über alles” ist natürlich heute nicht mehr politisch korrekt. Finde ich aber auch nicht problematischer als “Rule, Britannia”, was in England auch heute noch voller Inbrunst gesungen wird.

While thou shalt flourish great and free:
The dread and envy of them all.

Interessant finde ich die zweite Strophe der Nationalhymne:

Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue,
Deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang
Sollen in der Welt behalten
Ihren alten schönen Klang,
Uns zu edler Tat begeistern
Unser ganzes Leben lang –
Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue,
Deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang!

Ein klarer Appell an die Männer des Landes, sich mit stolzgeschwellter Brust den Arsch aufzureißen.
Natürlich ist es ein weit gefasstes Feld, diese “edle” Tat. Ich würd darunter alles Uneigennützige fassen, wie Freiwillige Feuerwehr und Steuern Zahlen.

Zu solch uneigennütziger, irgendwie solidarischer Tat für Andere, die man nicht persönlich kennt, muss man irgendwie motiviert werden. Früher diente dazu Nationalstolz.

Meinen Zivildienst damals habe ich durchaus noch mit der Einstellung: “Ich kann für mein Land ruhig Einsatz zeigen.” abgeleistet. Heute hätte ich nicht das geringste schlechte Gewissen mehr, mir mit irgendeinem fadenscheinigen Arztattest ein T5 bescheinigen zu lassen.

Was bleibt eigentlich von den Motivationen von früher noch übrig? Was bleibt übrig von der zweiten Strophe?

Hmmm

Deutscher Wein ist wirklich gut.

Aber sonst? Vielleicht:

Deutscher Fussball, deutsche Arbeit,
Deutscher Wein und deutsches Bier.
Bleibt zu hoffen, dass das ausreicht,
uns zu stärken im Gefühl von “Wir”.
Denn sonst gibt es keine Einheit
nur noch egoist’sche Gier
Deutscher Fussball, deutsche Arbeit,
und ganz dringend deutsches Bier

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Wer sollte Geschicke von Menschen lenken?

Der Realo/Fundi Zwist in unserer Bubble nötigt ja mehr oder weniger jeden, der nicht große Sympathien mit Vogel Strauß hat, sich Gedanken darüber zu machen, wie Richtungen eingeschlagen bzw. ausgehandelt werden.

strauss

Ich habe ein gewisses Quant von Bewunderung für jeden, der sich sehr sicher darin ist, wie und wohin die Reise zu gehen hat. Ich erkenne mich eher in der Anekdote wieder:

“Manche schwimmen mit dem Strom; andere schwimmen gegen den Strom. Ich steh im Wald un weiß nicht, wo der Fluss ist.”

Aber auch wenn Wälder und Bäume sich gegenseitig verbergen, lässt sich eine Positionierung den eilenden und zankenden Parteien gegenüber vollständig nur dann verhindern, wenn man ganz die Klappe hält. Und das liegt mir nun auch wieder nicht.

Werden wir also kurz philosophisch…
Wem würde ich denn guten Gewissens folgen mögen?
Da ich auch hier nur ein “Äh, was?” im Kopf verspüre, zitiere ich stattdessen mal das Buch der Bücher, das sich nicht nur deswegen so gut verkauft, weil auf seinem Buchdeckel “Don’t panic” in großen, freundlichen Lettern steht.
( Und wer nicht lesen will, muss hören. )

NARRATOR: The major problem – one of the major problems, for there are several – one of the many major problems with governing people is that of who you get to do it; or rather of who manages to get people to let them do it to them.

To summarise: It is a well known and lamented fact that those people who most want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it. To summarise the summary: anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. To summarise the summary of the summary: people are a problem.

And so this is the situation we find: a succession of Galactic Presidents who so much enjoy the fun and palaver of being in power that they never really notice that they’re not. And somewhere in the shadows behind them — who? Who can possibly rule if no one who wants to can be allowed to?

F/X: WIND. (IT’S ALWAYS WIND, ISN’T IT? I THINK WE’LL HAVE SOME THUNDER AND RAIN AS WELL.)

MAN: Pussy pussy pussy … coochicoochicoochi … pussy want his fish? Nice piece of fish … pussy want it? Pussy not eat his fish, pussy get thin and waste away, I think.
I imagine this is what will happen, but how can I tell? I think it is better if I don’t get involved.
I think fish is nice, but then I think that rain is wet so who am I to judge? Ah, you’re eating it.

I like it when I see you eat the fish, because in my mind you will waste away if you don’t.

Fish come from far away, or so I’m told. Or so I imagine I’m told. When the men come, or when in my mind the men come in their six black shiny ships do they come in your mind too?
What do you see, pussy?
And when I hear their questions, all their many questions, do you hear questions? Perhaps you just think they’re singing songs to you. Perhaps they are singing songs to you and I just think they’re asking me questions.
Do you think they came today? I do. There’s mud on the floor, cigarettes and whisky on my table, fish in your plate and a memory of them in my mind. And look what else they’ve left me. Crosswords, dictionaries and a calculator.
I think I must be right in thinking they ask me questions. To come all that way and leave all these things just for the privilege of singing songs to you would be very strange behaviour. Or so it seems to me.
Who can tell…
Who can tell.

I think I saw another ship in the sky today. A big white one. I’ve never seen a big white one. Only six small black ones. Perhaps six small black ones can look like one big white one.
Perhaps I would like a glass of whisky.
Yes, that seems more likely.

F/X: CUT TO EXTERIOR. IN OTHER WORDS A SHARP INCREASE IN THE NOISE LEVEL OF THE RAIN.
TRAMPING FEET ON ROUGH GROUND

FORD: In there?

ZARNIWOOP: Yes.

ZAPHOD: What, in that shack?

ZARNIWOOP: Yes.

ZAPHOD: Weird.

ARTHUR: But it’s in the middle of nowhere!

FORD: Oh, come on, we must have come to the wrong place.

ZARNIWOOP: Knock on the door.

F/X: KNOCK KNOCK. THE DOOR – A CREAKY OLD WOODEN ONE – OPENS.

MAN: Hello?

FORD: Er, excuse me, do you rule the universe?

MAN: I try not to. Are you wet?

FORD: Wet!?! Well, doesn’t it look as if we’re wet?

MAN: That’s how it looks to me, but how you feel about it might be a different matter. If you find warmth makes you feel dry you’d better come in.

ALL: Oh, yes thank you. (The visitors are all bewildered and embarrassed)

ZAPHOD: Er, man, like, what’s your name?

MAN: I don’t know. Why, do you think I ought to have one? It seems odd to give a bundle of vague sensory perceptions a name.

ZARNIWOOP: Listen, we must ask you some questions.

MAN: All right, you can sing to my cat if you like.

ARTHUR: Would he like that?

MAN: You’d better ask him that.

ZARNIWOOP: How long have you been ruling the universe?

MAN: Ah, this is a question about the past, is it?

ZARNIWOOP: Yes.

MAN: How can I tell that the past isn’t a fiction designed to account for the discrepancy between my immediate physical sensations and my state of mind?

ZARNIWOOP: Do you answer all questions like this?

MAN: I say what it occurs to me to say when I think I hear people say things. More I cannot say.

ZAPHOD: Ah, that clears it up.
He’s a weirdo.

ZARNIWOOP: No! Listen. People come to you, yes?

MAN: I think so.

ZARNIWOOP: And they ask you to take decisions – about wars, about economies, about people, about everything going on out there in the universe?

MAN: I only decide about my universe. My universe is what happens to my eyes and ears. Anything else is surmise and hearsay. For all I know, these people may not exist. You may not exist. I say what it occurs to me to say.

ZARNIWOOP: But don’t you see? What you decide affects the fate of millions of people.

MON: I don’t know them. I’ve never met them. They only exist in words I think I hear. The men who come to me, say, so and so wants to declare what we call a war. These are the facts, what do you think?
And I say.
Sometimes it’s a smaller thing. They might say for instance that a man called Zaphod Beeblebrox is President, but he is in financial collusion with a consortium of high powered psychiatrists who want him to order the destruction of a planet called Earth because of some sort of experiment, should he be allowed to…

ZAPHOD: Er, now wait a minute man, hey wait…

FORD: Sit down, Arthur, sit down…

ARTHUR: Let go of me.

F/X: THE DOOR IST THROWN OPEN

ZAPHOD: Hey, er … earthman, you know me…

FORD: Leave him. We’ll sort it out later.

MAN: But it’s folly to say you know what is happening to other people. Only they know. IF they exist.

ZARNIWOOP: Do you think they do?

MAN: I have no opinion. How can I have?

ZARNIWOOP: But don’t you see, that people live or die on your word?

MAN: It’s nothing to do with me. I am not involved with people. The Lord knows I am not a cruel man.

ZARNIWOOP: AH! You say … the Lord!! You believe in …

MAN: … my cat. I call him the Lord. I am kind to him.

ZARNIWOOP: All right. How do you know he exists? How do you know he knows you to be kind or enjoys what you think of as your kindness?

MAN: I don’t. I have no idea.
It merely pleases me to behave in a certain way to what appears to be a cat.
What else do you do?
Please, I am tired.


Und falls nicht ganz klar wird, was ich damit sagen will: Meines Erachtens ist eine der besseren Ideen von J.K.Rowling das Maß, in dem sich Dumbledore in die Vorgänge in Hogwarts einmischt.
Ich überlasse es als Denksport- oder Kommentar-Diskussionsaufgabe, das genauer auszuführen 😉

As if…

“cultural marxism”: ein interessantes Zitat

Ich hab mir heute das erste Mal einen der (guten, aber etwas langatmigen) Filme von Stefan Molyneux angeschaut: The Truth about Frozen.
Seine Interpretationsansätze sind mitunter kurios. So geht er – wenn ich das richtig verstanden habe – davon aus, dass Harry Potter die Geschichte eine Jungen ist, der wahnsinnig geworden ist und nun in einer mental institution namens Hogwarts behandelt wird; alles aus dem Umstand, dass es keine Magie gibt, und wenn einer überzeugt ist, ein “Zauberer” zu sein, muss er wahnsinnig sein.
Aber vielleicht fasse ich das auch falsch zusammen.

Vieles aber ist Spot-On, vor allem wenn es um das Verhältnis Film-Zuschauer geht.

Unter anderem findet sich dieses Zitat, das ich jetzt hier einfach mal so in den Raum stelle:

Many young women love to forget that they are attractive for the sole purpose of making babies. [Siehe auch den Post hier] This reality must be obscured in “Frozen” so that youthful female vanity is not threatened.
Which is why – except for the royals – we never see a nuclear family throughout the entire movie, with its cast of hundreds!
The trader in the woods has a gay family in his sauna.
The mother at the coronation has no husband.
Two men clap each others backs on the way to the ceremony.
Even the royal family, with two parents and two children, never spend time together and are highly dysfunctional.
Both sisters are orphans. Christoph is an orphan. The snowman has no family of course and Hans is fleeing his abusive family who remain off screen.
Young women who are milking their sexual appeal don’t like seeing happy or functioning nuclear families because it reminds them that they are using their sexuality in the wrong way.
A young woman’s sexuality is designed to evoke commitment from a quality man, not just feed her own vanity. Also, seeing a functioning family is reminding her that time is always running out. That every day she uses her sexuality for vanity, rather than commitment, it fades, and falls, and loses value.
This creates deep anxiety in the young woman, which would be enormously healthy because it would provoke a change towards maturity and responsibility.
But what is sometimes called “cultural marxism” in society is little more than a bunch of predatory artists and academics being paid … by women … to avoid provoking rational anxiety about squandering their sexual value on alpha orgasms, man-candy estrogen status and narcissistic selfie vanity.

offtopic: Zeit für einen geschriebenen Witz

Im Englischen viel mehr als im Deutschen gibt es Standard-Witzformen.
Zum Beispiel die Knock-Knock-Jokes, die nach dem Muster

“Knock, knock”
“Who’s there?”
[irgendein Wort]
“[irgendein Wort], who?”
[irgendein Wort][lustig ergänzt]

aufgebaut sind. Ein Exemplar:

Knock knock
Who’s there?
Anee.
Anee, who?
Anee one you like.

oder

Knock knock
Who’s there?
Iva.
Iva, who?
Iva sore hand from knocking.

Sehr beliebt (zumindest in England) ist es auch, Pointen von Witzklassikern zu ruinieren. Standardbeispiel (das eigentlich nur live funktioniert) ist ein alter Kalauer aus den 40ern (oder 50ern ?):

“My wife went to the West-Indies.”
“Jamaica?”
“No, she went of her own accord.”

( Falls das nicht verständlich ist: “Jamaica” klingt so wie “D’ya make her?”, wenn man nuschelt.)

Der wird dann gern mal variiert in z.B.

“My wife went to the West-Indies.”
“To Cuba? Oh f*ck.”

oder

“My wife went to Jamaica.”
“Really? Of her own accord?”
“Oh, d*mn.”

Ein anderer Klassiker ist die “How many x does it take to change a lightbulb.”, mit der irgendeine klischeehafte Eigenschaft von x auf den Arm genommen wird.

Ein paar Beispiele:

“How many carpenters does it take to change a light bulb? Two, one to hold it, one to hammer it in. ”

“How many actors does it take to screw in a light bulb? One hundred. One to do it and 99 to say “Hey, I could have done that!” ”

“How many Californians does it take to screw in a light bulb? None, they only screw in hot tubs.”

“How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb? Only one, but the bulb needs to really want the change.”

“How many feminists does it take to change a light bulb? THAT’S NOT FUNNY!!”

“How many feminists does it take to change a light bulb? You don’t need a light bulb if you have a glass ceiling.”

“How many feminists does it take to change a light bulb? It isn’t the lightbulb that needs to change, its society that needs to change.”

“How many feminists does it take to change a light bulb? One. She hold the bulb in place while the world revolves around her.”

“How many feminists does it take to change a light bulb? Twelve.
One to screw it in,
one to excoriate men for creating the need for illumination,
one to blame men for inventing such a faulty means of illumination,
one to suggest the whole “screwing” bit to be too “rape-like”,
one to deconstruct the lightbulb itself as being phallic,
one to blame men for not changing the bulb,
one to blame men for trying to change the bulb instead of letting a woman do it,
one to blame men for creating a society that discourages women from changing light bulbs,
one to blame men for creating a society where women change too many light bulbs,
one to advocate that lightbulb changers should have wage parity with electricians,
one to alert the media that women are now “out-lightbulbing” men,
and one to just sit there taking pictures for her blog for photo-evidence that men are unnecessary.”