Those eyes, that mouth.
Month: October 2015
Atomteller: Commemorative Plates of German Nuclear Plants
Each for a low low price of only €39.95. Collect all 19! (g)
‘Emily’s Magical Bejeweled Codpiece’
"Tom, museum curator and expert in Renaissance jewelry, doesn’t think his boyfriend Peter is 'The One.' Peter is perfectly happy with Tom, but Tom is obsessed with the artist Benedetto Emilio Nesci—exciting, passionate, extraordinarily talented… and dead for over 400 years.
Tasked with researching a bejeweled codpiece, Tom abandons his professional ethics—and his sanity—to try on the codpiece and is transported halfway around the world and back in time, right into Florence, Italy and Nesci’s workroom."
Read more here.
Quote for the Day: Bernanos on Intellectual Imbeciles
“The intellectual is so often an imbecile that we should always take him for one until he proves the contrary.”
Schumann had Syphilis
Robert Schumann probably suffered from bipolar disorder. How did it shape his creative life? http://t.co/1tvwAKCf6f pic.twitter.com/WBJBhjKwZK
— BBC Radio 3 (@BBCRadio3) October 10, 2015
//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js
I forget where, but I once read an convincing account from a medical person that explained that new sources revealed that Schumann's symptoms were consistent with the development of syphilis. Also what killed Nietzsche. It was an extremely common problem, but was hushed up after the deaths of these cultural heroes, leading to decades of fruitless speculation about alternative explanations for their sudden decline into insanity in the prime of life.
Polyphonic Overtone Singing
This is rather peculiar. I'm not sure what it's good for, but I'm sure some avant-garde German composer has already figured it out.
Düsseldorf Altstadt 1975
The sensitive may wish to avert their eyes at 3:45. Otherwise great.
The Golden Autumn in Düsseldorf
Late September and early October was a time to remember. Clear skies, cool temperatures. I spent most of the time on my bike, exploring some of the nicer bits of Düsseldorf. Unterbach Lake, a large artificial lake and recreation areas located in the southwest suburb of Unterbach. Schloss Benrath, and 18th-century hunting castle with extensive grounds, and the Südpark/Volksgarten complex, one of the greatest parks in the world.
Here are a few of the raw pictures without much post-processing. Enjoy!
England Crushed by the Jackboot of the Nanny State
England just introduced a 5p charge for plastic bags at stores, which is apparently engulfing Albion in pandemonium, madness. While clawing over the bodies amid the stinging smoke, the editors of one English tabloid came up with a brilliant, devious, cunning plan to evade Big Brother's latest overreach: Bring your own shopping bag. The article prompted this inspired tweet:
GETTING PEOPLE TO DO THIS IS LITERALLY THE WHOLE POINT OF THE CHARGE YOU LOBOTOMISED SHITLARKS pic.twitter.com/4LtEwT7Jat
— Anandamide (@anandamide) October 5, 2015
//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js
Germany has suffered under the yoke of bag fees for generations now. Which means any and every self-respecting environmentally conscious German — and that's pretty much all of them — has become an expert in bag technology. In a German store, you are expected to whip out your own reusable bag and pack your own groceries aber schnell bitte. Any deviation from this standard of conduct will be met with disapproving glances.
You need the right bag. Everywhere I go, I carry a foldable ChicoBag which expands from the size of a pack of cigarettes to basically infinity. That's for spontaneous purchases. For more intensive shopping, you need a bag that will (1) fold up flat like IKEA furniture; (2) maintain its shape on its own when unfolded, (3) has various sized handles; and (4) has a velcro strip on the top inside so you can seal the top and make sure bulky objects don't fall out.
The very best bag for this — and I've tried a hell of a lot of them — is the Edeka shopping bag. This comes from the high-end Edeka line of German supermarkets, which are the cleanest, most orderly supermarkets you will ever see. They fill all 4 criteria and are big, stable, and indestructible. They even have little flanges on the inside so you can stabilize bulky objects against the side of the bag. They're fucking ingenious.
England, fear not. The survivors will crawl out of the smoking ruins of a once-great land, painstakingly knit their own reusable bags from scraps of torn, bloody fabric, and get on with their lives. Germans will soon send over shipments of recycled, reusable bags in the spirit of European solidarity, and you can put the bloody-fabric bags in the Museum of the Great 5p Bag Crisis.
Bilk Rocks the World with a Gay Schützen-King and his Husband
Schützenvereine, literally 'Marksmen-Clubs', are a centuries-old German tradition with roots in medieval citizen-militias. Today, they gather every couple of months to hold parades in elaborate costumes, get drunk, do some charity stuff, get sozzled again, practice some shooting in case the Huns return, and then end the day drinking meter-long beers in the local pub until sprawled in front of the Kotzbecken. They choose their own 'King' and 'Queen' of the club to preside over official ceremonies.
And the part of Düsseldorf I live in, the virbantly-diverse-in-a-good-way and totally gay-friendly neighborhood of Bilk, has just chosen Germany's first gay Schützenkönig, the 'King' of the Marksmen Club. That's him on the right there, he's a local Social Democratic politician named Udo Figge. The national broadsheet FAZ (g) has picked up the story. Apparently there was some talk of arranging a proper 'Queen' for Udo, but then the other Schützen would say:
So that's him in the photo above with his husband of 13 years. Schützenvereine are fairly traditional organizations, so the King & King setup has met some resistance, but the head of the main organization says gays are welcome in 'Marskmen Clubs' and have the same rights as anyone else.
When it comes to Schützenvereine it's not about your orientation, it's all about your ability to wear ludicrous costumes, lead parades of amateur musicians, sing drinking songs, and get pants-wettingly drunk in various pubs in your part of down.
German Joys 