MORE ABOUT POLITICS

Right now, on behalf of the present financial crisis, I am reading that Alan Greenspan said this one to be the worst crisis of the century.

About a fortnight ago, I heard on the telly that the Mayor of New Orleans called the approaching hurricane the worst of the century and thus he invited his fellow citizens to leave town.

Well, being a born Berliner, we would say to this kind of braggadocio "one size smaller would be welcome".

I take the liberty to remind everybody the century barely started, we have still 92 years to go before we are able to make an evaluation. So let's be patient and leave the subject to our children or even better to our grand-children.

Another well-known fact, the stock exchange goes up and down, some get burnt and other get rich and probably next year we'll have other "events of the century" to consider. As to the king-size hurricane over New Orleans, the Mayor mishandled the evaluation of this one as he did on behalf of the previous one thus I suppose he will be reelected triumphantly by his thankful citizens.

Another thing I am quite fed up with is the "War on Terror". Every one of us has a bigger chance to win a Billion Dollar or Euro at the Sweep Stakes or the Lottery and afterwards get struck by lightning rather than being killed in a terrorist action. An efficient police force and a Secret Service that is doing his job on the ground are amply sufficient to neutralize these buggers.

And let's stop talking endlessly about September 11 when its main aim seems to be using it merely as an excuse to embark on actions that shy the light, a kind of smoke screen with an exceeding long shelf life.

Because there are problems and there are dangers facing us. Climate change is one. During the last Ice Age the average temperature fell 2°C. Not very much one might say but now we are in danger to live through increases of 4° to 6°C!! That means lots of more deserts everywhere as well as flooded and definitely disappearing coastline everywhere around the globe.

Another one is overpopulation. If we go on like this the horror movie "Soylent Green" depicting life in 2022 will become a reality well before the end of the century. I have seen recently a documentary about Dhaka the capital of Bangla Desh: that was hell on earth, just to look at it. Those unhappy people have already achieved this kind of concentration..............


Have a look at overpopulation at home. Fortunately, it lasted only one evening and half of the night. We were celebrating our ten years' living here.





All this to let off some steam and to entertain my friends worldwide who want to read something about politics.

SOME POLITICS - JUST FOR A CHANGE

That's me, taking off for another subject. Rejoice.


These days the little war between Russia and Georgia and its aftermath are very much in the headlines. And as nearly always nowadays I hear all the time the same tune: the Russians are very bad, bloodthirsty and imperial and the Georgians: poor innocent lambs in danger of being slaughtered by Mister Big.

Well, I don't agree.

First, just as a reminder, Georgia's biggest contribution to mankind was Mr. STALIN, the Russian dictator. When he finally died they did not celebrate and still now he is to them what Napoleon is to the French.

There are many different peoples living in the Caucasus area and all of them have one thing in common: they hate each other's guts. Their grievances go back to centuries, unforgiving, ready to jump at each other's throat when there is a possibility to get away with it.

Georgia's independence was such an occasion. There were accounts to settle with the Abkhasians and the Ossetians who lived as a minority within Georgia but don't belong to this people. So Georgia embarked on a nasty little war against everybody else who had the misfortune not to be Georgian.

In a nutshell: if these Abkhasians and Ossetians don't want to be Georgians, let them go. To independence or to Russia, whatever. Just let them have a kind of referendum so that they can decide for themselves democratically where they want to be.

By the way, in the case of Kosovo, once a Serbian province, this independence was granted. So why not here?

I think we should stop meddling into other people's affairs in far away countries. What about minding our own business, improve our own way of doing things, stop talking about democracy and human rights when in reality we only try to lay our hands on oil and gas they have and we don't.

Coming back to Georgia: they make real good wine there, it seems and I would very much like to taste it but can't find it here in France. What a pity.

Back from holidays

So here I am at home again. Back from camping in Samoëns, a little village-town south of the Geneva lake and 2 hours' drive to the Mont Blanc, highest mountain in Europe. A splendid little bourgeois holiday, just as I like it (or nearly so).





N° 1 and 2 = Those are the tourists - called "grockels" in English English - standing in front of the Geneva Lake. On the other side is Switzerland. As you see, not all French are slim and those people are certainly not Dutch.


N° 3 = Here you see the Mont Blanc, from a distance. I made that photo with a zoom at its maximum. Mister Big dwarfs everything around.

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Coming to the camp site I was amazed to see for the first time in more than 20 years a sizeable number of tents. Till now, those campers were mostly people driving motorhomes (kind of live-in lorries) of various sizes and a slowly shrinking number of caravans. I suppose motorhomes simply were more fashionable. And lastly, in a corner, there were some tents.

This time big change: about half of the spots were occupied by tent campers. Some of those tents were real holiday cathedrals, never seen such big ones before. Stupidly I did not make any photos, it just did not occur to me.

The reason of this change is certainly the amazing price of gas and Diesel. Maybe in ten years' time I'll arrive on my holiday spot in a high-speed rickshaw, like in Vietnam. That might help us save gas and money.

And who is going to pull those rickshaws. Certainly not me but what about hiring some prisoners? All those murderers, thieves, crooks, dopers, dealers, rapists are idling in their cells. You cannot make them look at the telly for more than ten hours. That would be inhuman. Furthermore, it seems, here in France, the prisons are overflowing, they are now being put inside in layers, like sardines. So some rickshaw exercise would do them a world of good, add color to their pale indoor cheeks and lessen the burden of the unhappy impoverished taxpayer.

Well, so much for some social engineering of my invention.

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But we went to the Alps for a little change of surroundings and furthermore, Samoëns is famous for its paragliding flying possibilities. Have a look

N° 4 = That is Plateau de Saix (yes, unpronouncable for nearly everybody). All those people are preparing for take-off. When you are in the air, you have about 800 m (about 2500 feet) of air below you. After soaring a bit above the launching pad Mount Blanc is clearly visible.

A fellow pilot told me that two years ago a guy was able not only to go there by paraglider but even land on its summit of 4800 m (about 14500 feet). And when he stood on our number 1 mountain he was all alone because Mt. Blanc was closed for climbers that day. A heat wave made the snow cap and glaciers unsafe and avalanche prone. So he just stood there for some time, Italy behind him, France in front and then flew away, happy.

Samoëns has not only two splendid launching pads but also a king-size landing spot. It has the size of about two football fields. Touching ground there gives me the feeling to land on Frankfurt International. No danger to hit a church tower, a car park, a lamp post or just a big tree towering in front of you.

N° 5 = The landing area though you see here only a small portion of it.


N° 6 = A better view of the landing area. Pure bliss.

Three days before the end of our holidays I had another start on top of Mr. Saix, see first picture. As there was no wind, I was running at top speed to get the paraglider taking off.

While running I fell into something like a rabbit hole and had my feet torn a bit. In the air I thought "that was a near miss" and when touching ground it hurt a bit. But next morning, I could not move my foot, it hurt like hell. The worst was going up and down the stairs to the lavatory. The night after I was even pissing in a plastic bottle to avoid climbing those stairs.

My wife told me about an old grandmother's remedy fighting inflammation. Just take good olive oil and add some drops of lemon and mix the stuff. It works, ladies and gentlemen. Really, it works! The third day I was already climbing those stairs up and down, bye bye piss bottle. Born again for further action.

Here, some more photos:


N° 7 = Mountain bike girl. T5his activity seems to be more risky than paragliding. Good to know.










N° 7, 8, 9, 10 = Have some more. Could not resist showing them.

Lost in the dark - wake woke woken

Absolutely nothing to do with the subject



Saturday night: could have been around three in the morning; I was suddenly waking up. Ok, let's go to the toilet, the time of the chamber pot is over for more than sixty years.

So I started fishing for my slippers in the dark. They did not seem to be really where they should be - propped against the wall - but soon enough I had them on my feet and stood up.

Turning to the right made me collide with something like a lamp shade. Looking around in my pitch dark surroundings I saw some light filter through the window shutters.

Going to the window seemed the reasonable thing to do. I am an old hand going to the toilet at night without any light and the window has always been an important landmark. Even in a moonless night it is never totally dark outsite.

Touching the window frame I was a bit astonished of its feel. Seemed to be somehow metallic cold instead of wood but anyway, from here on I know where to go. From the window to the right and this I did.

Two steps further on I had another collision with something, don't know what.

So I went back to the window - what else should I do - and took the other direction. On my left I felt the edge of the bed. That was reassuring so I just carried on. Straight ahead, right for the door of this room.

I never managed to make it to that door. Instead I banged into something I could not define. Now I was really in panic. WHERE AM I AND WHAT IS GOING ON HERE??



This is the room where it happened - made the pic five minutes before leaving


My blundering around was far from noiseless and finally my wife woke up and asked "what are you doing?". "I don't know where I am". I imagine she would switch the light on and I "saw" another difficulty coming up. There is no switch on her side of the bed, only on mine. So we'll soon be groping together through this bewitched room.

Hardly had I finished this thought the light came on: I was not at home at all but in my in-law's guest-room! Felt a bit foolish. "From now on I can manage", I told her "you can switch off the light". Well, well. Five stressful minutes are laying behind me.

Back in my bed I could not find sleep. Then I hit on the idea to relate this night stunt in my blog and started composing my text right away. "Suddenly I wake up at night". Then the word wake seemed strange, should it be "woke" instead? Wake, woke, waken, or better wake, woke, waked, or maybe wake, woke woken? These grammatical exercises had an immediate effect. I was fast asleep in no time.

Good night to everybody and don't forget to remember where you are. Could come handy.

VOTERS'S STUPIDITY

Nearly half of the blogs I have met so far talk about politics and what's gone wrong. They loath the government and let us know about this and why.

Let's not talk about those happy dictatorships where there is no real voting. People living in those remote-control-countries are free from the burden to take any worthwhile decision about politics and politicians. Generally, they are invited to occupy themselves with other subjects like gardening, making money (get rich and shut up), religion (sure, you are poor and bedridden but in Paradise you'll have fun every day), yelling at football tournaments and other sports events.

No, the voters I have in mind live mainly but not exclusively in the European Union or in USA/Canada where they are invited to exercise their talents and judgement.

Let me give an example: some years ago the European Union organized a referendum in every member state for a Constitution. The main idea was to establish majority votes in the EU Parliament and have a President voted into office for longer than six months.

This constitution was rejected by the voters in France and in the Netherlands. I don't know about the Dutch but here in France the no-votes were motivated frequently by this:

- more job security, no more outsourcing
- life has become more expensive
- more social justice
- They didn't want the Turks into the European Union

All this are worthy subjects but they are not decided by the Union. So this was brainless voting, there is no other word for it. It's like as if I am asking you for directions in a city and you answer me "this morning we'll expect rain".

Or take another example regarding our friends in the USA. The present government has been reelected three years ago. And this in spite of the disastrous war in Iraq, stubborn negation of climate change and probably other topics I don't know about. Now, it seems he and his party are at an all-time low. So the question is why did the majority vote for him a second time?





In Germany, Ms. Angela Merkel, our current Prime Minister, got her job with a very thin majority. During those elections it became more and more clear that all those indispensable reforms would come at a cost. So lots of voters got cold feet and voted for parties that promised to do the washing without getting them wet.

Thus, in a nutshell, we are responsible, too, if things go wrong. It's not those on top who - alone - are stupid, thrifty, tricky, grafty, dishonest. We made them and put them there, they are like us, remember.

As the saying goes "every country has the government it deserves".

PRAYERS FOR RAIN

Some weeks ago I hit on a website where it was said that the US Governor of Georgia prayed publicly for rain to end a severe drought in his state.

At first I couldn't believe what I was reading. Sure, I know many people pray when in deep trouble but praying for rain, today, makes me think of our Middle Ages, a world full of demons, devils and sorcerers. To pray to your god for a little help seemed the reasonable thing to do, at that time.

When you pray for rain, plenty of it - much more than what you need to wet the flower pots - it means this: gimme the stuff, right now and LET THE OTHER ONE HAVE THE DROUGHT, because I need it more than everybody else, everywhere!

But praying for rain means something else, too. It means: we have cut off all trees, for years and years, we have watered our fields by draining our rivers, we don't preserve nature and we don't respect it. Everything that is not invoiced is free and we take it. And now we are facing the end of this happy time and don't like it.

So what we do? We don't say we have abused for dozens of years and now we pay the price. We don't replant the trees and make hedgerows around our fields. Oh no, that's too expensive. We don't invite everybody to make amends for our stupidity and take action.

We take the short road and pray: that's not expensive and if granted would enable us to go on living as before. And when we have some money to spare, could be we decide to replant some trees. Could be.

That's it what it means to pray for rain in a Western country, at the beginning of the 21st Century.

Any news from Africa?

Talking about politically correct subjects in a politically correct way?? Not always, it's too hard for a blogger like me.

So this is about Africa. You know this big place down south, on the other side of the Mediterranean.

Not a day passes without news from there. The melody is always the same, CHAOS in all its forms plus a never omitted mention of colonialism. Whatever happens down there in Africa, it is somehow our fault, always.

You want short sleeves or long sleeves? In case you answer short, they cut your arm above the elbow. In case you opt for long sleeves, off comes your hand (Liberia, The Analyst, 10 January 2008).

In South Africa between 500 000 and 1 million women are raped per year, babies included. (World Net Daily, 27 May 2008).

Want to know how to make speed killing without any modern weapons? Please inquire in Ruanda Burundi. There, only with the help of machetes and other big size knifes they killed about eight hundred thousand people in just three months.

The Democratic Republic of Congo is so fertile that you can plant a broom stick into the ground and you have a fair chance to see it turning green. Nevertheless, famine is endemic over there. It should be said that that the Congo is indulging in a civil war that goes on nearly since the Belgians left there in the early sixties. The horrors happening there everyday defies imagination (CBS News, 27 May 2008).

And so on, and so on. The list is endless.

AIDS is spreading over there like a wild fire. Naturally, we are being told that this is due to cultural particularities and culture has to be respected, anywhere. So they need Bill Gates and his billions + plus European Union Aid + President Bush and his aid program + all good people world wide. Nobody seems to tell them and us that they should simply stop screwing around whenever they leave home.

By the way, in South Africa many people think raping a baby girl is a proven remedy against aids (BBC News, 9 April 2002).

Looking for a country with inflation well above 1.000.000 percent? Just go to Zimbabwe (Associated Press).

And then - at the telly - I see those Africans dancing around and I hate to see this. Dancing for just any reason. Got a new remedy against Malaria? Let's have a dance. Someone from far away Switzerland or elsewhere shows them how to make a stove, how to cook, how to purify water, how to plant a tree that is not withering away next week! another dance. Got a new president elected at 99 percent, the old one has been assassinated: let's have a dance.

So I think Africa and our media should give me a break. Stop talking about this endless list of horrors streaming out there as well as their perpetual non-performance.

I know they are poor but they are not the only ones. Why are the Koreans able to build big ships and TV flat screens? 50 years ago this country was nothing but a heap of rubble after a devastating war. And only 25 years ago China was as underdeveloped as Mongolia. And now?

So why not Africa? Why is there not a single manufactured product coming out of this continent?

These are the real questions to be asked and to be acted upon. By the Africans themselves, just for a change.

FLYING ABOVE THE ATLANTIC OCEAN

Once or twice a year I am having a little flying holiday. My favorite place to go is the Pyla dune, south of Bordeaux/France. With a maximum height of 110 m (about 350 feet) this dune is the highest in Europe.



The camping is situated right at the foot of the Pyla dune, in the pine forest, five minutes' walk through the quicksand and I am right at the paragliding launching pad.

However, no wind, no flying. The day of our arrival, nearly cloudless sky but no wind. Not the slightest. There were roughly two dozens of paraglider pilots standing in the sand, waiting, waiting, waiting (www. in abbreviation).



Next day, blue sky again but the very strong wind was blowing from the land to the sea. Flying under these conditions would be a suicide mission. So we had another walk on top of Master Pyla, tourists among tourists.

The dune advances inland about 1 meter (three feet) per year, at most places. Thus all those camping sites on the inland side of the dune get smaller and smaller over the years. When walking along the water, you see the remnants of shore defense bunkers, laying half hidden in the ocean. They were built by the German army during the Second World War, now subject to tagging. When they were constructed in 1942/43, they were on top of the dune!!



Pyla is a big tourist attraction and restaurants are aplenty. There I saw a waitress who had a new way of carrying her dish towels. Have a look.



The third day was sunny again but again without any wind. Thus we went to the nearby Hydroplane Museum, featuring this kind of airplanes from about 1905 till now. The museum was closed, exceptionally. No sweat, a real "grockel" (English for tourist)can always fall back on something else. What about a Cappuccino in a good looking Café?

Well, all this is a side line. I came here for some paragliding and now I am reading Patrick O'Brian's "The Ionian Mission". Splendid book, I recommend.

Here, have a look at the camping site, right on the Pyla dune, under big fir trees.



This camp site is one of the best I know. They feature clean toilets and if you feel like it, you can get a kind of paper ring to put on the toilet seat. Hygienic shitting of stand-alone quality. I am always coming back to the place because of this.

Sunday, our last day at Pyla. Again heavy sunshine but no wind. Again those idle paraglider pilots are standing or sitting on the dune, www for some wind. Then suddenly, a paraglider appears in the sky, just one.



Everybody gets excited because there is no wind. We are all running to the other side of the dune to have a slice of this happiness. Alas, when we are there, the lone paraglider is still alone in the sky, slowly gliding down to Mother Earth. He must have had a gust of warm air, for some minutes and was smart enough to act upon it.

Monday morning, we are leaving. Thanks to YouTube, have a look at my beloved activity. I like the video because the pilots are a bit nutty. Youthfully excited as well as the music. This is "Plastic Bertrand" singing a hit of about thirty years ago, very much to the point "ça plane pour moi" (something like 'I am high' - but not in the air but in the head). Naturally, I am not flying like this, coffin lid open, but still flying, peacefully in the sun, over the sand and the water, over the tree tops.








Another post that is a bit too long. Sorry.

Breakfast in the garden

This Saturday morning - 3rd May - is important. It was sufficiently warm and sunny to have our breakfast IN THE GARDEN. First time this year!





Weekend breakfast is always special. We load the table to capacity. That's what we had:

Croissants (four in all - two for each one) - plus baguette with sesame or poppy grains outside

Black Assam tea (for me with milk and a glass of orange or apple juice (I prefer the last)

Forest honey and Moor honey, both from nearby

Unsweetened almond paste and hazelnut paste (those two big jars) and Nutella

3 jams: cherry, cherry plum, quince.

Well, that's the breakfast. Let me stress this however: it's not French, it's not German, it's just ours.

My fellow blogger Bere in her blog A Chronology of Stupidity shows the photo of a very different kind of breakfast, US American style, I suppose. It is her post "time lost, weight gain", you have to scroll down a bit after landing there.

Here in France, most people have a very simple b. Black coffee, baguette, butter and some marmalade or jam. Frequently, the jam is skipped. So many different ways to start happily into a new day.

Being tagged

My fellow-blogger Patrick Joubert Conlon Born-again Redneck
had me tagged and here are the details of what this entails:

The rules:

1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.
3. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people
and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves
them a comment, letting them know they've been tagged and
asking them to read your blog.
4. Let the person who tagged you know when you've posted your answer.

The questions are as follows:

1.) What I was doing 10 years ago?
2.) What are five things on my to-do list for to-day? (not in any particular order)
3.) Snacks I enjoy
4.) Things I would do if I were a billionaire
5.) Three of my bad habits
6.) Five places I have lived
7.) Jobs I have had

1.) What I was doing 10 years ago?

In 1998 I was living in Neuilly-Sur-Seine, a Paris suburb and worked for a German company selling gears, gear grinding and gear controlling machines. In July I married after having lived together for about 7 years. In September we left our jobs and moved 600 km down south to live in a village. I am still there, happy.

2.) Five things on my to-do list for to-day

a) Racking my brain to answer the tagging questions.

b) Continue working on the overhaul of the wooden terrace railing (balustrade), using an orbital sander, a power planer, a router, a band saw, a jigsaw plus a pot of paint.

c) If weather permitting, driving down to the Dordogne valley for some paragliding. Spring is the very best period for this. Half an hour of flying right above the treetops would be wonderful.

d) Calling on my friend in Brussels to talk about the last piece of music on my blog. He wrote me that clarinet player is not good enough and he has a better one.

e) Last not least: buying at Amazon.fr "Blandings Castle" from PG Wodehouse, Patrick "The Redneck" (see above) recommended to me. Incidentally, I met him by making a Google blog search for this beloved writer and now I have to find out, too, at Wikipedia what "redneck" really means in USA English.


3.) Snacks I enjoy

Black forest cherry cake, Tiramisu, bitter almond chocolate.


4.) Things I would do if I were a billionaire

Make a trip around the world, have a look at Australia, Japan, some US National Parks. Opening a world-wide TV station, kind of personal CNN but very much less boring and no publicity. Buying a car with a huge trunk that runs noiselessly and uses no petrol. Kicking out all those I don't want to see: that's the privilege of the rich.


3.) Three of my bad habits


I like to convince those who are not convinced. - I like reading when others make small talk - should eat less chocolate, pastries and other blow-up stuff.


5.) Five places I have lived

In Berlin-West before the Wall came down - in Aachen/Rhineland where Carolus Magnus had his HQ more than thousand years ago - in Brussels/Belgium where it rains more often than not - in Neuilly-Sur-Seine where the current French President was town mayor - in Rouffiac the farmers' village, far away from cities, noise, industry, business, pollution.


7.) Jobs I have had

In AACHEN as an apprentice for transports, export/import. Having got my diploma, I made the solemn oath never to work again in the transports business.

In BRUSSELS in a company where we were selling turn key plants to Third World countries and to the Soviet Block. We went bust when Saddam launched his war against Iran instead of paying us. Professionally speaking, my best time.

In NEUILLY-SUR-SEINE near Paris selling gears and machine tools made by our German mother company to French industry. Thrilling but stressful job.

THE END of this huge task. Now let's shut down the 'puter and hit the road for the Dordogne valley, see 2-c here above. Bye bye.