Free

I think there is no boundary to free speech. Though they may be such a thing as hate speech, which is forbidden in Germany (where I live) for historical reasons, I don’t think hate speech should be forbidden.
Hate speech should be fought with tooth and nail, but nor forbidden. Speech is to be fought with speech and experience; better speech and better arguments, but also personal experience.
You can say anything you want to. If I disagree with you, it is up to me to say my piece in a way that will kill yours. KILL! Let the better argument win, and yes, I don’t want my argument to kill yours, that was just a joke, but it is important to realize that arguments can win or lose. If you have a good argument, make it win!
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Why? Because speech is thought expressed. You may try to forbid it, but you can’t get inside of peoples heads (not yet, at least). What people think will be expressed, and you simply have to deal with it. Supressing it will not help in the least, it will simply drive it underground and get it out of sight. Bad.
Of course, this assumes that you are able to understand my arguments, which, if we want to be honest, won’t always be the case. People who read this blog will probably be more receptive to cogent argument (I hope…), but people who read this blog are not typical people. Typical people aren’t used to analytical thought, and, after thousands of years of getting along, they are not about to start with that shit now.
I think it is important for you, the people who read this blog and understand it as it is meant to be understood, to realize that you are not typical. Most people just don’t get it, or, even if they could and actually wanted to do so, do not read this blog or other sources of information that might help them along the way.
Nevertheless, free speech is the only way to go. The opposite would be to assume that arguments shall not prevail, but rather power, or ignorance (which can only be fought with, you guessed it, free speech).
Whether it be the power of the state, as in Germany, which forbids certain types of speech, or the power of society, which forbids certain types of speech with the threat of ostracization, or even incarceration, depending on the momentary societal situation, the only way to fight it is with good arguments. Or experience.
Personal experience is very important. For example, a simple person (forgive me for saying it, but there are human beings who are “simple”, without having any less “worth” than anyone else) can benefit hugely from experiencing different cultures. It’s a very simple thing, which, perhaps, seems natural to any university student at a big campus, or to anyone who lives in an international city: seeing and meeting people from different cultures. Talking to them! Sitting next to them! Oh my God!
I think you have to realize that this is something that the greater part of humanity is not used to. As soon as you get them used to it, well, they’’ll get used to it. Christ, it’s that simple, sometimes. Put a right wing asshole next to a left-wing black man for half a year, and he will (perhaps) realize that the black man is of course a perfectly normal human being (they might even, God forbid, become friends).

The Army of Losers

That’s a song. From Die Toten Hosen (The Dead Pants, a German punk band). A song about losers, about the fight against time. It’s a leftist song, about the fight against the “Fließband”. Against Ford. “Fließband”, what is that? The assembly line, the ultimate inhumanity. I thank Christ I never had to work on an assembly line.
On the other hand, my first job was as a baker in an organic bakery, with cool people and a loose atmosphere, but even there we were trying to make a sort of assembly line. We tried as best we could to make things efficient, make the beautiful, eatable things we produced (and they were delicious, I can assure you), as best we could. In the end it was about making money, but making money with somethng useful.
So that’s the thing, making money by producing things that other people need and want. That’s all well and good, and there’s nothing wrong with making those processes as efficient as they can possibly be. We wanted to produce what we made in the best way possible. Sure, it was about profit too, oh yeah, that’s the zest, that’s what makes it interesting.
The problem is when people who don’t care about making things that people need or want take control of these processes, people who are not interested in anything except their own profit. They don’t care about quality, they don’t care about use, they don’t care about anything except profit. They will fuck you in the ass if they can, and if they can’t, they’ll send their henchman to beat the living shit out of you. And if that doesn’t work, or if you’re in a country where the government acts like they don’t want that shit, they’ll send their lawyers to do it for them. How is an average person to deal with that? Well, honestly, they can’t, and that is why this society can not go on in its present form. There is no way that this system can go on. It can exist in a certain atmosphere for a certain time, but it is not truly viable.
The question is, how is the army of losers going to react? They will react, you can be sure of that. At some point the pressure will become to high, and they will react. Put pressure on things and they will explode at some point, that’s simple physics. It applies to society the same as it applies to material. Well, you might say, Hellstrøm, you jerk, you’re wrong. Society is not physics. Ooha. Well, I can simply laugh at that.
Why? Because society is physics. Society is algorithms, isn’t it? That’s what they are telling us these days. It’s all math. Yeah, baby, statistics, I can tell you what you will probably do. In all likelihood you will. You can’t help it. You’re on the assembly line of life, and you will do what is expected of you.
But, and any statistical expert will confirm this, there are statistical swings. It’s not all about the middle line. Every honest statistic should take that in to account, but they don’t. They’re all on the middle line, betting on it, the stupid motherfuckers, hoping for it, even though they know it isn’t true. Gamblers. It’s the human condition, we’re all gamblers.
We all know what happens to gamblers. They win, or they lose. But these gamblers are betting with our whole society. I’ll leave it to you to think about the consequences.
Yeah, flaming trees line the streets. Singing the Higgs-Boson blues. The army of losers are lining those streets too. They are probably (seen statistically) the ones who set the trees an fire. Totally surprising! No algorithm predicted it.
Don’t cry just because we’re in for interesting times. That’s life. Ah well, wotthehell, cry if you must, then at least Cry Tough, from Alton Ellis & The Flames.
Happy New Year.

Rectitude

Ah, Christ, how’s a knight to live, in these hard old times? A knight of words, nowadays, needless to say. Couldn’t wield a sword worth shit. Could have, maybe, wouldn’t have, probably. A dreamy knight, I would have been. A knight who writes poetry because he can’t turn his fucking brain off. He would have liked to turn it off; he would have wondered at the way the other knights did.
And nevertheless he would have killed. He would have done his duty. Take the salt, and do the duty. With reservations, but nonetheless. Protect his own, and kill the rest. Lucky bastard, got two children to his name, survived to this day. He loves them. So, he’d kill.
Or I’d have ended up a peasant, a churl.
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A Big Thick Wall

It’s really interesting to see how Germany has evolved. I live in this fucking country. Its’ fucking insane, like any so named country. People gotta worry ’bout the weather, ’bout the young folk, like anywhere else. They got nothing better to do. Oh, but now it’s the fucking foreigners. As if that was something new. Oh, don’t worry, you German’s, mother Merkel will keep you safe. It’s truly amusing to see how Germany marshals the countries walling her from the shit goin’ down in the world. Suddenly there aren’t enough refugees to populate the shelters built for them in Germany. It’s a magic trick.
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Don’t You Get Your Hopes Up High

Dash ‘em down, those hopes, for fear they will be disappointed. Keep your head down, baby, flak will fly. Don’t dare rely on anyone else, even if they have tried never to disappoint you, because, no matter how often they may have proven they love you, they just might throw you in the ditch after all. When it comes down to it, they won’t be by your side, will they? You are alone. Never ever trust.
Why can’t I do this? Because I can’t. I believe it is better to be fucked over by the ones you love than to distrust them. Without that trust, life is meaningless.
Of course, this makes me victim to every single human being who doesn’t adhere to the same ideal. All those damaged women I’ve met, who would actually like to believe that I love them… can’t. They’ve met too many men on the way, men who have used them, or men who simply didn’t give a fuck one way or the other.
You simply can’t imagine the energy I’ve expended in the effort to make a woman believe that I love her. All the crazy things I’ve done, just to prove it… just a waste of time. I can prove it again and again… it’s no use. They will never ever believe it. Damaged.
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And the more damaged people I have to do with, the more damaged I become. I try to love and protect them, I try to convince them, desperately, that it doesn’t have to be that way… and I fail. I begin to wonder if they are not right.
I hate righteous people, but nevertheless I feel a sort of righteous indignation when I am confronted with this lack of trust. It hurts me deep inside to think that someone I love might not trust me. I give them my trust, I lay it on the altar like a sacrificial animal, and say, take it. They take it, but it it is not reciprocated. I put more animals on the altar, and say, see: do you now believe? No. Like jealous little gods, they want bigger animals yet. More. Insatiable, never satisfied.
Well, alright, I’m willing to lay something on the altar, now and again. Keep the flame glowing, that’s only right, for Christ’s sake. But the basic trust must be there. That would be a matter of renewing the trust, not of establishing it. For me, it’s established in the moment I say: I love you. I don’t say those words lightly.
Agh. Fucking blog, I hate you. You seduce me in to saying what should be left unsaid, what should be understood without saying. But it isn’t understood. People don’t understand. I have to say it aloud. Again and again and again.
Listening to Doina-Sirba-Hora, from Das Blaue Einhorn.

Shiny Little Things

Grasping apes that we are, we just love shiny little things. Bright stuff. Little mirrors and red feathers for the natives, dear; they just love them.
Well, we have progressed, since then. We’ve progressed to shinier things yet. Little gizmos that do this and that. They produce coffee, they drill holes, they make music, and so on. But they are still shiny, mostly. Unless, of course, they are supposed to appeal to the tasteful set. Then they may be held in subdued tones, pearly white or something, brushed steel, perhaps. Elegant. For „better“ people.
It’s just the grasping part that hasn’t changed, no matter how tasteful we may think we are. We see these things, and we think: waugh! I want it! It shall be mine. Gimme. Buy it.
No! All the while my gut feeling goes against hatö.m Ajnd (Im,*’m now so drunikk, that I am qritinng kzuuzghwyxs cockroaches.)
[Alright, this post has entered the editing stage. As an editor, I ask myself if the last sentence is relevant, or pertinent, or anything at all. It doesn’t make sense, that much is clear. One is tempted to delete it, summarily. I’ve deleted better. Ahh… fuck it, I like the part about cockroaches, whether it has any meaning or not.]
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