Sunday, 17 March 2013

Barbecuing Pigs & Grilling Freedom
- a memorial to my 500th diary entry

The pixel width of this column is 500. This diary entry will be my 500th. As soon as I hit "Veröffentlichen".

No need to get me anything, I never got you anything (except 500 entries of justified, white on black text). Sorry if you don't like the format. Did y'know you can turn that stuff off in your browser?

Seems like just a couple of weeks ago I was pique't about the presumption of the liar's truth-telling at the expense of the presumption of innocence.

Here's one:
Born in Berlin, railroaded by a pig. You are now free to go. Well, whoop-dee friggin' doo!


Sow of Poverty
You probably knew that the pope was a dirty rat-bastard, but did you know that he is also a rare specious of pig? It's true. He comes from the Urethrae order of the Autodidactyla family Suidae, which is more apt to familicide than suicide.

My mama always said, "Life is like a passel of Jesuits. You know the rest."

You know the rest.


_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
-n-o-o-k-i-n-g--4--f-r-e-e-d-o-m-
-i-n-s-i-d-e--t-h-e--d-e-a-t-h--s-t-r-i-p-
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _



You may have heard about the swelling number in thousands of pigs floating down a river in China, but did you hear about the thousands of red herring that washed up on the shore of the River Spree this midday?

David Hasselhooves did. 'Nuff to make your heart bleed with tears of freedom, is wut.


You may boar bore the Hoff's inkwell without striking an inkling, for neither do the pros & contras of the portion of the debate he's ceremoniously latched onto regard the entire history short on preservation - a history written on lease agreements and construction contracts. Just like the flow of time itself, that shit's bound only one direction.

There's a reason why a tax is called a penalty. Why the rubes paying the penalties never gave a shit about the people using that land before it was parceled out to those who aren't paying any penalties is not as much a mystery as why they now gather with some of them and pretend they give a shit.

It's the same reason somebody'd pay a church tax, but avoid eye contact with the lady selling the homeless newspaper. The swine cynically use ceremony to club life over the head, and the ones standing on ceremony think the ones being clubbed are the swine.


Public–private feedback loop
If you recall my five-year-old paean to the capitalist pig - in which I likened the superstructural scenario along Berlin's river to the wall that stood before it (that link, having been a recapitulation, hehe, dedicated to the result of the referendum that staunchly, if non-bindingly, refused the planned development) - then you might also remember the staunchly non-binding nature of democratic processes.


Five years ago, it was about curbing the construction along the river via a height limit; unrestricted public access to the riverbanks; a new bridge without auto traffic. It wasn't about preventing the possibility of the East Side Gallery being interrupted a meter here & there, notwithstanding the foreseeable byproduct that that was.

A guy named Carsten Joost gathered together a group who gathered enough signatures to get the referendum on paper. The quorum was met and the movement overwhelmingly ratified. The 19.1 percent who showed up for the vote set a refe-record.

Some have ridiculed the 87% of the 19.1% who voted "Ja" that day as being insignificant, choosing not to acknowledge that the effort & turnout represents a democratic process more than showing up every few years to rubber stamp liars.

The 152,502 eligible who didn't show up to vote yea or nay on the limitation could only come from a few groups:

 - for the cause, but knew it wouldn't make a difference
 - against the cause, and knew it wouldn't make a difference
 - hated the organizers, but too lazy to show them up
 - never have any idea regardless, or couldn't care


It's true that some of the organizers of today's action are residual of the overall goal, which was to stop the construction. But that's not what's being transmitted. And it ain't gonna happen.

And the protest against the removal of a small section of the mediocre memorial, upon which is painted - can we not be honest? - one over many pedestrian works of art, has inspired counter-squeals about how the damn thing is representative of oppression and would be better gone. Which also ain't gonna happen.

In short: What's done is done.


Society is structured so that private money uses public money to shore up private profit. The protection of this process is also a public expenditure: Pigs, pigs, and more pigs. Law and order. The public is terrified of anything else.


So that stretch of land will preserve its mediocrity - which can include luxury apartments with in-house convenient stores! - eventually completing the massive wall of tasteless pop-commerce.

And David Hasselhoff will come to reprise (yet more reprisals?) "Looking for Freedom" to celebrate the opening of one new monstrosity or another. His pre-song banter will probably be something about how today's protest forced the compromise that allowed the coexistence of the public's goddamn wall memorial with whatever it is that's being opened that day.

Cynics can mock Hasselhoff's popularity here (acknowledging or not its being overstated) and laugh at his assertion that he had anything to do with all those other bits of the Anti-Freedom Wall crumbling asunder, but the folks at that ribbon cutting will be shedding tears of what they're convinced is joy.

Because people are just that stupid.

Then the masses can go next door to stuff their faces full of brats with mustard and whatever else they're being fed.

And Hoff and Hills' celebrated brat can move into lofty suites with a stunning view of the O2 Arena.

I doubt the construction will be as efficient expedient fast as the East Germans built the wall. Now that was inspiring! No, today's Berliners are a pretty sluggish bunch. Present company included.

Must not be enough horse in the pork.