Summer Holiday...

St. Tropez, St. Raphael (France/2005), London (UK/2005), The Hague and the Kinderdijk (Netherlands/2004)...memories :)

Amok...

A student has threatened to run *amok* at our school.
A handwritten message was found on a desk by which a student declared that he/she/they would run amok today - police was called, students were sent home, we the teachers are clueless. We have to take this seriously - this might be a very sick joke or dead serious...you simply can't tell. I tend to believe that it was a joke...a very sick joke...but we've been asking ourselves today how we would deal with such a situation should it really occur. What are you supposed to do under such circumstances...there is nothing written about *amok* in the teacher's manual. It's just scary and fucking frustrating...Do I really want to do this job? What's the fucking matter with our youth...even if this was meant to be a joke, what does it say about the state our teens are in...
I'm speechless, clueless...
How would you behave? What would you do? Would you lock yourself and your class up in your classroom? I seriously don't know...we are all clueless...
Any suggestions??

Messages from the 'Other World'...

My computer mouse took its first unmanned flight today...the subsequent touch down was rather rough and I'll have to buy a new one now :)
That leads me to the question...do things have a soul? Is the computer mouse sad now that she's broken?
While I was sitting behind my computer screen tonight, I heard a funny sound in my kitchen...like breaking glass...when I had a look, everything was in its place...nothing was moved or broken. This reminds me of a story that my grand-mother told me once (my grand-uncle confirmed the story later)...After the death of my great-grand-mother, my grand-mother - who was twelve at the time - and her older brother, my grand-uncle, went to see their mother as she was lying in state in the living room. My grand-uncle said a little prayer and quietly asked their mother to give them a sign...he had just ended his prayer when the glasses and the china in the cupboard made a terrible noise, as if they were breaking into pieces. My grand-mother and my grand-uncle, both terrified, charged out if the living room. When they went back later to see if anything was broken, everything was in its place, fully intact...
I made a couple of similar experiences after my grand-mother's death...lights that acted funny, noises, curtains that moved without even the slightest breeze...
I have spoken with a lot of people who have made similar experiences. Without being completely un-scientific, one cannot simply dismiss these stories...there is more to our existence than the material world - epecially if you have a look at quantum physics. Within the workings of the micro cosmos our material world is just an illusion...

Across the Universe...

I'm going through a relatively difficult time at the moment.
I have a Master's degree in linguistics and although I have been teaching for the last decade or so (adult/further education and university) I don't have a genuine teacher's degree - a degree that is mandatory if you want to work at a German highschool. Thus, I am doing a 2-year teacher training on top of my classes in order to get said degree...What is so stressful at the moment isn't so much the incredible work load (and it's loads of work - I can tell you), but rather the power games of the instructors...they're right and you're wrong - always - as simple as that. And as I am hopeless as an actress, the look on my face alone gives my disenchantment away... I'm a really bad liar...
That's why I so can't push myself to play their game, to apply methods that I don't believe in, to become someone that I'm not...a carbon copy of them. For me, this training is slowly turning into a nightmare, as it seems to me that I only have the choice between self-denial and failure...
In times like these, it is so easy to lose track of what matters in life...so I'll take a minute and write it down...

I made an experience a couple of years ago...
I was present the day my grand-mother passed away and to say that this day changed my life doesn't even begin to describe the impact that this event had on me. Not only did I realize to the fullest that this life is NOTHING BUT A MIRACLE, but this experience endowed me with a "knowledge" that I cannot quite put into words...I caught a glimpse of the eternal it seems - of something beyond the realm of our every-day perception. I cannot describe what it was, let alone explain it...but, for a brief moment, I grasped the full picture - from outside - 'outside the universe' if you will, and in this picture everything made sense...it made me realize that we're not lost...and there was something 'out there'...something that felt like the very essence of love.
I don't know what it was and to this day I have NO explanation for any of this - suffice it to say that I was agnostic prior to this event...to this day I don't know what to make of it and perhaps I never will, but this experience gave me hope and faith in this life, in this universe.
And it made me understand what life is all about...it's all about love.
Forget money, forget your brilliant career...as cheesy as this sounds, what it really boils down to at the end of the day, at the end of the road, is love. You will be remembered for the love that you have given and the love that you were given.
Love truly is eternal if you look at it...and love defies all laws of nature, as it is the only thing in this universe that is truly abundant, truly eternal...your loved ones may no longer be with you, but their love still lingers on, their love still feeds you...and will continue to feed you.

The photo above shows the vault of Canterbury Cathedral/UK.

War of words...

Ha, I can post again...without having to sign up - it's a sign...well, maybe not :)

The one thing that I was recently reminded of is that negativity only begets negativity. It is incredibly tempting to hit back, to set the record straight, to give people a taste of their own medicine and before you know it, you're lost in a war of words.
Someone said that words are nothing...I couldn't disagree more...words are EVERYTHING. Wars have been faught because of words...words have brought people up against each other, words have pushed people to cut each other's throats - the Holocaust wouldn't have happened without words, the war in Iraq wouldn't have happened without words.
Some people are vicious by nature, but the majority of people just 'shuffle along'...they go about their daily business, they go to work, bring their kids to school, eat, drink, go out once in a while, sleep.
You need powerful words if you want the common man to go and kill someone, hate someone; nobody wants war, but if you sell it well enough, you can make people believe in anything - that a peaceful and safe environment can only be achieved by bombing entire countries back to the Stone Ages - that followers of a certain religious cult are Untermenschen - that people with a darker complexion are less intelligent than people with a fair skin...
Sounds crazy, but that's what many people believed for a LONG time...still believe sometimes.
'The word is more powerful than the sword' - words have built up dictatorships and they have made them crumble. Words are meaningful, words are powerful and words can be incredibly hurtful - as they cannot simply be erased from your memory.
Regarding negativity and violence...sometimes it's best to just walk away.

Colour...

After my rather dark blog below, I thought something slightly
more colourful might be in order...

Untitled...

Ok ok, this is the 2nd time today that I could enter my blog without *signing in* - strange - but maybe it's the blog telling me that I should write something...LOL. I don't really feel inspired today; yet, at the same time I have the feeling that something is 'boiling in my guts'...something that wants to get out. Do you also know this feeling...you don't know what it is before you begin to write it down and sometimes, in the course of writing, the words that leave your fingertips take a certain shape and when you're done you realize *why* you had to write it...
The last time this happened to me was when I wrote something about my father who died of ALS (Motor Neuron Disease/Lou Gherig's Disease) a couple of years ago. When I started writing my blog entry, I didn't know that the blog would be about him...I was listening to Madeleine Peyroux who was singing Dance Me to the End of Love as the words suddenly started to pour out of my fingertips...and without thinking about grammar, content or style, I just let them float...it started with 'love' and it ended with 'loss'...

Maybe that's what is travailing me at the moment - the thoughts, the worries, the grief that you keep tucked inside - within neatly confined and well hidden places that you don't visit throughout the day - while you're busy at work, or while you're being successfully sedated by your tv set. Grief is a tough labour...it completely devours you, it submerges you...it almost feels like drowning sometimes...your head underneath the waterline...while you're desperate for air...you keep struggling for a while...until it feels easier to let go...to let yourself drown...I've tried to 'function' over the last couple of years...being "the good girl", the reasonable adult - graduating, taking up a teaching job in France, taking up a teaching job at a highschool only recently. At the same time, I've been fighting in these waters for too long...fighting the grief inside...holding back an ocean of tears...carrying the Mount Everest of sadness on my shoulders. It's not that I haven't cried - I guess I have cried a million tears - but perhaps I still haven't cried enough for him...for myself.
Yes, for myself too...seeing somebody you love suffer is unbearable and your glaring helplessness stares back at you whenever you look into the mirror. You feel so pathetic in this part that confines you to being the witness...incapable of being genuinely helpful...I always had the feeling that my best or my all wasn't enough - worst of all - that it was zillions of lightyears away from being enough...I tried to give my all, but my all it seemed pathetically little...I tried my best to "act naturally" around him...and like some really bad over-actor, I smiled too often and sometimes I would laugh hysterically in order to give him the feeling that his disease wasn't a fucking desaster - a desaster I so couldn't deal with. I don't know how believable my act was, but in hindsight, my act was laughably "transparent"...as my despair kept shining through - out-doing my wooden laughter time and again. Sometimes when you smile, you're in fact screaming inside...that's what I was doing for two and a half years...I was screaming my lungs out...inside, behind my wooden smile...

Throughout the course of his disease, I felt like being cast in a tragically absurd movie, the script written in stone - you had no choice but to play your part. The way it was going to end was clear from the onset...there was no way out, no way around it. We knew right from the start what an ordeal it would be, but still, we were nonetheless unprepared for what lay ahead of us...
We all duly played our parts - my father as the terminally ill father, my brother and myself as the helpless and over-burdened 'loved ones'...we played our pathetic little roles until the bitter end, until the grand finale, the dénouement of this sad tragedy of Greek proportions.

As I'm writing this I realize that I'm still mad and furious...how do you get over stuff like this? I think you never really do...but hopefully, you can learn to cope with it...time is a factor (not necessarily a healer)...I know I should simply dive into this ocean...I'm taking small steps though...one at a time...for now, the water reaches up to my ankles...the dark waters I'm facing still don't look very inviting to me...it's dark and it's cold out there and I'm scared...I'll walk a bit further though...maybe once I've waded deep enough into these waters, I'll have the courage to let go, to dive into this ocean without being devoured by it.

Black and White...

The first picture shows my 98-year-old grand-uncle (back then he was probably around 94...photography seems to be running in the family), the picture below was taken in Bruxelles in 2003 (in a very lovely café in a somewhat hidden back street), I took the one underneath at the station in Frankfurt/Germany (if memory serves me right, it was during the World Cup - 2006), I took the one below in Leiden/NL in 2004 (I like the placid mood of the shot, it was a lovely place to sit and chat over a cup of coffee), the last photo was taken in Geneva in December 2007, the sitting man was one of many similar exhibits that were 'all over the place' back then...it was a beautiful scenery - this one, a man sitting on a bridge, was probably the most amazing exhibit.

Happy Birthday Freedom...

The 9th November 2009 will mark the 20th anniversary of the Fall of the Berlin Wall. I was 20 when the wall came down, but in spite of the years that have passed, I remember this event vividly...
I wasn't in Berlin when it happened, in fact, I hadn't been to Berlin between the eighties and 2006, when the photos below were taken. I was in Berlin in 1985 and 1986, I was even in East Berlin for a day - I saw the Wall in the flesh so-to-speak and never ever, not in a million years, would I have seriously expected this Wall to come down, not in my lifetime...and if so, then not without bloodshed...
The fact that it did come down and above all how the Berlin Wall came down in the end, took everybody by surprise - not only me - but everyone (including the CIA, the KGB, the MI5 and whatever their names were)...
Not one shot rang out during this remarkable night...it was the night of all nights...it was a magical night, a night that made the impossible, the improbable, the unthinkable come true...we went to the land over the rainbow where 'dreams that you dare to dream really do come true' - I wouldn't have dared to dream that dream before it became reality though...
No shot rang out in a place that was once rightfully called the best protected border on the planet...no shot...although the border guards were armed up to their teeth...although the regime had it all worked out - where to bring the injured, the dead - Tiananmen Square part II, this time in East Berlin - different place, same carnage.
Nonetheless, none of this happened, instead, people were dancing on the Wall...without being shot down! Unthinkable even the day before 11/9...
I still don't understand the workings of said night, but suffice it to say that it was a genuine miracle, no more and certainly no less...
The GDR was going down, but still, no one saw this coming - and dictators have a tendency to hold on to their power for as long as possible, regardless of the price...That night though, the GDR just slipped out of their fingers and maybe for the first time in human history, a people demolished a stone wall with their voices alone "Wir sind das Volk, wir sind ein Volk!" [We are the people, we are one people]...like the trumpets of Jericho in the Old Testament...their presence alone made this Wall, this regime, crumble and fall to their feet.
We were in a state of grace on this chilly 9th November 1989 and we were given a tremendous gift that night...freedom...and something more that maybe I alone can feel in my heart, and maybe it's bullocks, but I believe that this event (perhaps even its date - the 9th of November) carries a deeper meaning...too many improbable events have led up to this, too many things that could have gone terribly wrong went right that night...how lucky can you get? This night was meant to be...it almost seems as if someone was watching over us that night...as if someone somewhere was pulling the strings, whispering into the ears of the soldiers "don't shoot, keep calm, don't shoot..."
I believe that we as a country, as a nation, were forgiven that night - by the ones that perished - they reached out to us that night...and then they let us go...in peace.

In light of this...I was incredibly moved when I saw a Menora in front of the Brandenburg Gate right next to a huge Christmas tree [see photo below] that read 'the Jewish community of Berlin wishes everybody Happy Hanukkah'..."They're back" I remember thinking. Like the birds in the spring, after a long cold winter - it was the winter of our discontent - a winter that lasted too long...
The Jewish 'element' was an integral part of German culture, society and wisdom...Gustav Mahler, Felix Mendelssohn-Bartoldy, Heinrich Heine, Albert Einstein just to name a few...we have lost so much that we have yet to regain. Someone once said that the extermination of the Jews was an act of self-mutilation. And that's just what it was. I am delighted to see that they're back, back to where they belong...always belonged.

Berlin, Berlin...

Die Würde des Menschen ist unantastbar...*

If you ask around, everybody has a story to tell...
Whether it was your Maths teacher or a bunch of adolescent bullies back at school, the civil servant in some public office - who gets his daily 'high' in an otherwise pathetic existence by making you feel small and powerless at his 'omnipotence' (even if his omnipotence only pertains to declining certain items of your fricking tax declaration).

It is much easier to join the crowd than it is to resist peer pressure; it is easier to humilate someone than to stand up for someone - especially if the person is for some reason 'different' from what is perceived to be 'normal.'
Unfortunately, so many people prefer to make others feel small and miserable instead of adressing their OWN problems, instead of acknowledging that they themselves feel desperate, low and anxious inside.
Respecting human dignity is the basis of a peaceful co-existence in ANY society. Sadly, said dignity has been violated in the past and it continues to be violated - on a daily basis. Whether it's within the micro-cosmos of your own home, or whether it's on a much broader scale - within the mechanisms of a totalitarian regime; it's the bully at school, the abusive husband/parent, the ever-nagging wife, the frustrated civil servant/teacher/manager, the nasty secretary, the pathetic janitor that reported Sophie Scholl to the Nazis or the paparazzo that stops at NOTHING in order to get THAT photo - even if it means violating people's most intimate moments. Your personal freedom (as much as the over-quoted freedom of speech) ends where the dignity of another human being (and that includes celebrities in my book btw) is violated. Whether it's some teens that diss a boy/girl or whether it's the servants of some totalitarian regime who take people away on trucks in the dead of the night, the mechanism at work is the same!
In fact, this has to do with courage and cowardice...these are the two juxtaposed stances that have defined, united and separated us as a human race ever since. Being one or the other is a matter of deliberate choice - not some automatism - everyone has to choose for himself/herself between the camp of the bullies and the camp of the ones who resist. YOU choose, I choose and we all have the choice - most of the time - at least as long as no one is threatening us with a machine gun - and that's something I have rarely heard of.
We are under NO OBLIGATION to be mean, as much as the frustrated civil servant DOESN'T HAVE TO turn his job into a pathetic power-game - one that you, sitting on the other side of the desk, can only lose. It's a choice...we risk losing *face* by NOT succombing to peer pressure, and we might not get rid of our frustrations and feelings of inedequacy by NOT giving in to the sweet taste of power. But - apart from being simple common sense and the basis of enlightened human interaction - this attitude does keep you sane and happier in the heart - because of ONE SIMPLE TRUTH: Being the bully is just as hurtful and damaging as being the victim.

Take care, everybody!

Welcome to Absurdistan...

As you might know, I lived in France for two years, in Lyon precisely.
I arrived in Lyon in September 2005...I had my little lectrice contract with the university of Lyon (signed by the president of the university himself !), my papers, my lill' appartment (it had taken me two entire months to find one, simply because I couldn't come up with a garant, but that's a whole different story...)...at any rate, that particular day I had the most wonderful intention of opening a bank account...a bank account...not a bank, mind you, that shouldn't be too hard I thought...but little did I know...
So, I happily walk up to the first bank - I shall call them Crédit Agrécool in order to protect their identity (ahem :-) - at any rate, I charge in, my papers in my brown teacher's bag, still hopeful and pretty convinced that this will only take a minute...The dragon-lady behind the counter frowns her forehead and her 'I-can't-be-bloody-bothered-to-be-friendly' attitude instantly turns into hostility as she glances at my papers...as requested, I had brought along my ID, my work contract, my lease, my last three (!) bank statements, my tax declaration and myself...the grim looking lady looks at my pile of papers, then back at me and barks "Where's your electricity bill?" "My...ermm...electricity bill?" I ask - my eyes probably look like saucers at that point..."Yes, your electricity bill. You cannot open a bank account without an electricity bill!" Her eye-brows have a close encounter with her hairline.
"Aha...ermm...why?" I wonder. "It's the law!" she barks. I go "aha...," while the size of my saucer-eyes keeps expanding. "Errrmmm...I don't have an electricity bill...ermmm...and...I'll never have one I guess...I have toutes charges comprises (which means that my monthly rent includes all extra charges)."
"Well, you can't open a bank account without an electricity bill!" The dragon-lady scrutinizes me from head to toe with a certain air of indignation. I go: "ermmm...well, what am I supposed to do in order to open a bank account?" "I don't know, I'm afraid I can't help you," the dominatrix-turned-bank-employee retorts impatiently.
It's time to leave and I crawl back to the street on my nipples, as I can't possibly feel any smaller - at least they're very good at making you feel like crap at Crédit Agrécool...
'Hope springs eternal' I think and I give it another shot...this time I pick the Banque Papulaire (again, I have slightly altered their name, ahem)...as I walk into the bank, I notice that people are queuing up in front of the counter on the left hand side, while the one on the right hand side is completely deserted. "What a bunch of idiots" I think to myself, and with a big fat grin on my face, I walk up to the deserted counter. Something is foul in the State of Denmark, though...that was far too easy...conveniences always come with a hook, now don't they?
At any rate, I walk up to the man behind the counter and I cheerfully express my desire to open a bank account. The man behind the deserted counter stares at me and mumbles something I don't understand. I repeat my request and he mumbles back at me. I'm German, so maybe it's my accent (I generally don't have one, but who knows)...I therefore repeat my request v-e-r-y s-l-o-o-o-w-l-y...while I bend over the counter in order to hear what he is mumbling...to my absolute horror I realize that I don't understand ONE bloody word...not a single one! At that point, I'm beginning to become mildly nervous as I wonder why I can't decipher his bloody accent. The man behind the counter keeps mumbling utterances that remind me of a Northern Hungarian sociolect - I could be wrong, but it sure doesn't sound like French. I'm starting to panic...is Ashton Kutcher going to waltz in - the very next minute, but wait, I'm not a celeb, so maybe not...my mind is racing...what the Hell is going on. While I'm desperately trying to analyse the status quo, my eyes meet a little sign that sits on the counter...it reads "Our deaf-mute employee M. Chablis (yup, I changed his name too) is happy to answer your questions!" (or something to that effect) - 'Aha...deaf-mute', I think while my mind is still trying to grasp the meaning of this vital piece of information, 'DEAF-MUTE!'...what the?!? Affirmative action is grand, but this is almost as smart as recruiting a blind bus driver.
'Alrighty' I think to myself, 'don't panic.'...but I already feel like in one of those weird dreams where you stand in front of a bunch of people without your clothes on. I contemplate escape - why don't I just run away :-) I mean, he probably hasn't understood my frickin' name anyway.
I force myself to stay...it isn't his fault that he is deaf and I don't want to hurt his feelings...I stay...and I write down (!) my request on a small piece of paper that I hand over to him. He mumbles something - but he fortunately realizes that I 'don't get him'...he therefore takes another piece of paper on which he notes his answer...we happily exchange lill' pieces of paper for some time...it actually feels like I'm back at school - exchanging secret messages with my girlfriends.
To cut a long story short...he managed to let me know that I need an electricity bill in order to open a bank account...yup...same shit, different bank!
I guess I went to every single bank in Lyon and only three (!) months later (after many-a sleepless nights and a nervous breakdown) I eventually got a bank account at BNP-Paris-Bac (yep...I changed their name - you guessed it!)...they accepted me sans electricity bill...maybe because the bank happened to be situated in the same street, opposite my appartment...
Sigh...vive la France!

The photos above were all taken in Lyon/France. The first one is a shot of a spiral staircase in one of the many 'Traboules', the 2nd one is a Renaissance court yard and the three pics below were taken during the 'fête des lumières' which takes place every year on the 8th of December. The whole city is illuminated...it's absolutely gorgeous!

The “West-Eastern Divan”

The West-Eastern Divan is a very special symphonic orchestra that was founded by Edward Said and Daniel Barenboim in Weimar/Germany in 1999 in light of the on-going bloody conflict in the Middle East. The musicians who are between the ages of 14 and 25 are recruited in countries like Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Israel, Jordan and Tunesia. The name 'West Eastern Divan' refers to a collection of poems by J. W. Goethe.
The text below is taken from their website and it states some basic truths:

"The orchestra is a humanitarian idea. [...] Our project may not change the world, but it is a step forward. It is an ongoing dialogue, where the universal, metaphysical language of music links with the continuous dialogue that we have with young people, and that young people have with each other.
We don’t see ourselves as a political project, but rather as a forum where young people from Israel and all the Arab countries can express themselves freely and openly whilst at the same time hearing the narrative of the other. It is not necessarily a question of accepting the narrative of the other, let alone agreeing with it, but rather the indispensable need to accept its legitimacy. We believe in only two absolutely necessary political ideas:

- There is no military solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
- The destinies of the Israeli and Palestinian people are inextricably linked and the land that some call Greater Israel and others Palestine is a land for two people.

[...] It is my belief that although music cannot solve any problems, [...] our project is very much in opposition to the cruelty and savagery that denies so many innocent civilians the possibility to continue living, fulfilling their ideas and dreams. It also shows me that so many lessons of the past have either been forgotten or never understood. [...] How long will it take for people in the region to accept this and remember that the past is but a transition to the present and the present a transition to the future? Therefore, a violent and cruel present will inevitably lead to an even more cruel and violent future.

Every member of this orchestra, regardless of their origin, shows a remarkable amount of courage, understanding and vision by coming here. I would like to think of them as pioneers in a new way of thinking for the Middle East. [...]"

[Daniel Barenboim]

I saw a documentary about them and I have been a "fan" since. I believe this to be a wonderful and important project and the words that D. Barenboim expresses above reflect some universal truths. Projects like these do not only give people in the Middle East hope, they give all of mankind hope - hope that one fine day we will learn from our mistakes, that one fine day we will live in peace...all around the globe.

I posted a photo of the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, because it epitomizes another east-western conflict. Berlin was the 'eye of the storm', the epi-center of a potentially deadly conflict between the west and the east. Berlin and the Brandenburg Gate symbolize the separation as much as the unity of Germany - and ultimately the world - a world that for more than 4 decades existed on the brink of total annihilation. For me, the Brandenburg Gate is a symbol of hope...peace is possible...dreams can come true.
As the world has managed to overcome the Cold War, it is my profound hope that we will overcome diversity in the long run and that we - i. e. all of mankind - will some day (to quote John Lennon) live as one.
Take care, everyone!

PS: If you're interested...I've posted the link to their website below (see label).

For what it's worth...

This is the title of a song from the late 60s, early 70s, if memory serves me right...it was a time of turmoil, a time of change, Bob Dylan and the times they are a-changing and such, Ming Lai - the Vietnam War, the students' revolt, the peace movement...
These days there is the Iraq War - a war that will probably go down in history as being similarly desasterous as the Vietnam War - at the same time we are on the brink of a major economic crises, one that could turn out to be worse than the Wall Street Crash of 1929; while all the time, news casts feed us with our daily dose of globalized mayhem and desaster...we live in a time of turmoil. These days, there are no students' revolts though...these days students are too busy doing countless internships in international companies in China or India, while worrying about their future on a globalized job market that offers little to no security - even for the brightest minds.
I talked with my students about their fears today.
While my generation dreamed of making this world a better place, in 2008, students worry about getting a job in the first place...there isn't much room for dreams these days, you have to be quite pragmatic and "realistic" and your dreams ultimately become very small...if you dare to dream that is.
In times like these when a globalized economic system protects and awards those who ruthlessly fill their pockets like there was no tomorrow - regardless of the consequences - in times like these when it has become acceptable to waste tax money and other people's savings - as long as it serves your own agenda, in times like these being young must be a MAJOR downturn.
The modern message seems to be...grab as much as you can; the more selfish, the more self-centered, the more agressive, the more ruthless and the more cold-blooded you are, the better! Who cares if hundreds, thousands, better yet, hundreds of thousands bite the dust - who cares as long as it serves YOU.
God is exclusively with those who succeed, those who own at least five Lamborghinis, a yacht in the Mediterranian and a luxerious château in Southern France - or Tuscany for that matter.
The losers on the other side of the equation just don't have what it takes. It's their fault anyway...if they had been more agressive, more ruthless and more selfish, they would also own 120 million Dollars and they wouldn't have to live in their car - without healthcare of course, now would they?

Where have we landed if our values - the very values that we want to pass on to the youth of today - seem to be greed, demesure, self-serving love, ruthlessness and - did I mention GREED?
These are the 'NEW' Ten Commandments, the Ten Commandments of the Third Millenium:

Hate thy neighbor,
Steal your neighbor's property and belongings,
Take as much as you can,
Love only thyself,
Lie,
Cheat,
Steal,
If necessary kill,
Shag your neighbor's wife (and if possible sell the sex tape),
Do whatever it takes - as long as it serves YOU.

How could we go from All you Need is Love to all you need is money?
What has happened to solidarity and compassion, what has happened to 'sharing this world'? Why do sleazy scumbags always get away with their actions - AND a 25 million Dollar parachute - these days, while honest, hard working people are the losers of a system that seemingly only serves those individuals that stop AT NOTHING in order to serve their own purpose. You must feel betrayed as an honest, hard-working person these days - not only do you potentially loose all - you are almost being ridiculed and belittled for your honesty and your naivité - for having believed in the system, for having refused to acknowledge the fact that the ones in charge don't give a fucking damn about you.

John Lennon would be revolving in his grave...

Imagine there's no countries ... nothing to kill or die for ...
Imagine all the people, living life in peace...
Inagine no possessions ... a brotherhood of men ...
Imagine all the people, sharing all the world.
You may say I'm dreamer, but I'm not the only one,
I hope some day you'll join us, and the world will live as one.

Our society desperately needs people that offer more than botox-enhanced turbo-looks and Gucci belts or purely self-serving mind-sets.
Something has to change!
Maybe it's high time the students took to the streets again...