Tout ce qu’on regarde est faux.” Ça c’est vrai! et puis: “Si tous ont raison, et si toutes les pilules ne sont que Pink, essayons une fois de ne pas avoir raison.”
D’écrire un manifest, ça doit être quelque chose de libérant – il faudrait que je l’essaie! Il y en a beaucoup, des manifestes, mais celui du mouvement “Dada” peut se lire plutôt bien: Dada No.3, Dezember 1918, Zürich.

Die Ausgabe enthält auch verschiedene Nachrufe auf Guillaume Apollinaire, auch eine höchst studierendswürdige Persönlichkeit des 20.Jahrhunderts!

But my little excursion into dadaism was triggered recently by Swedish artist Viking Eggeling’s 1920s stop-motion animation Symphonie diagonale. Enjoy watching, and enjoy reading the manifeste!

Der himmelblaue Wagon

Asta, my dear “Чебура́шка”, der 5.Februar wird für immer als der Tag an dem wir “Голубой вагон” zu live Klavierbegleitung im Pasternak gesungen haben in die Geschichte eingehen! Ich kann nur sagen: крокоди́л – spiel! Dass es kein Bild- und Tonmaterial davon gibt macht es umso wertvoller: diese Erinnerung gehört ganz alleine uns! Und seien wir nicht traurig: wie schon Stefan Zweig bemerkt hat, kann die Kunst immer nur Trost für die einzelnen Menschen bieten, gegen die Wirklichkeit kann sie nicht an …

Was die Welt im Innersten zusammenhält

Kann ich’s riechen, kann ich’s schmecken?
Mir mit köstlich nasser Traube,
Sanft die Seele zu beflecken,
Dort in jener Joiser Laube,
Sei stets ein Trost – dort find’ ich sie:
Tank’ Ruhe, Zen und die Balance,
Der Freundschaft nun: ein Brindisi!
Ambrosia schenk’ uns die Chance,
Der Sinne Schranken zu durchschlagen,
Lass kindlich sehen uns was die Welt,
Trotz Mühsal, Weh und tausend Plagen,
Im Innersten zusammenhält:

Ein Joiseph-Quintett in seiner natürlichen Umgebung: im Zentrum der Welt.

Xandl: Tausend Dank!

Snake Dance

Eli just introduced me to this master piece of dance / contortionist performance – look for yourself.

A humble reminder that, no matter how much you’ve seen, heard and experienced in the performing … in the arts in general – you’ve never seen it all. I’m not quite certain that I’ll be able to be amazed any time soon by any performance of modern dance in the near future after this.

Here is some press coverage from 1947.

Music: Claude Debussy, Syrinx L.129

Who the hell even knew how to pronounce this fn decade anyway?

Jetzt mal ehrlich: die 10er-Jahre. WTF? Die 20er! Das klingt doch gleich ganz anders.
What is left to say about this decade of doom, eine Totgeburt von Jahrzehnt … wir verabschieden uns ohne jegliche Nostalgie. Nun gut, wir blicken dennoch zurück, etwa so:

Ein Blick ins Archiv lässt uns entdecken, dass das Jahrzehnt mit einem Besuch in Rom begann, genauer gesagt mit einem Verwirrten auf der Engelsburg und einem hunky angel:

But before we read on, some upbeat 2019-discovered music to ease the pain of this slightly ad-hoc blog post:

So, now we have some wicked japanese disco music on. And honestly: who wants to see Mr.B age throughout 10 years of vacation photos. Instead, lets have a look at some of the more bizarre moments of this decade. In the end, making everyone’s day a bit more bizarre is all we can achieve in this life.

That’s a nice one! Apparently taken at some nameless classical music festival in fn Nuremburg back in August 2010:

He is hot, and she’s his mum (we asked!). But wtf – how did they end up getting rich with the Dixi toilet business, and why is SHE wearing the glove instead of him?! Questions, questions, questions.
Which brings us to the topic of 2019 literature. What did we read? Here’s a sample:

And if we read Ursula attentively, we will find wisdoms like this: “To learn which questions are unanswerable, and NOT TO ANSWER THEM: this skill is most needful in times of stress and darkness.” Hear, hear! Lets find those questions during the 20s, … and lets not answer them!

Then came 2011. Boredome ensued:

But: your mama’s rich, and your daddy’s good-looking (oder so…):

And as so often, out of the endless spaces which boredom provides, opening the necessary freedom for creativity and novelty:

BAM! Drag.

Comes the time in the life of every man, when he asks himself: does it buy happiness? It appears the answer this time was yes:

And yes: inner beauty IS for amateurs.
And Schnaps is Schnaps and Kitsch is Kitsch, I know, but it is a blog of the senses, and, I beg your pardon, this WAS the fn best hotel and the best sunset ever, so here goes Faro Spartivento:

Before we go back to more bizarre moments and music, mind you, what would life be without a beer with dad every now and then?

Breathing the sulfuric exhaust of an ancient but alive vulcano – that’s name is “Vulcano”! – was among the slightly more bizarre, yet uplifting experiences of the decade that dares not speak its name.

Said decade is coming to an end fast! And I’m only … not even half way through! PANIC! I promised bizarre music. I have no choice but to employ the ultimate weapon. Icelandic music. Dj. Flugvél Og Geimskip to the rescue!

We need to move on, we need to move on! What was the most traumatizing event of the decade? Probably when Unicorn faced THE FROG!

We all peed ourselves a litte that day. Horrifying! Then there was the UFO. But really, THAT story would take too long to tell.

What else? Greece was in trouble. We tried our best to fix it:

So many things are left unsaid, so many things left undone. Time never suffices, but about time you can read elsewhere on this blog!

What’s left to say. Nothing. “The mind commands the body and it obeys. The mind commands itself and meets resistance.”

In case of doubt: HIGHER ZOCCOLE!

But the last word of the decade belongs to Hansi’s Hammond Organ:

Honi soit qui mal y pense!