Autor: Ingo Rim Chudoba

Weiter unten auch auf Deutsch …

И на русском языке …

Hamas is attacking Israel. With inhuman brutality, they kill more than a thousand Israelis, thereby gambling away worldwide the credit that Israel’s illegal settlement policy in Palestine has earned them.

The attack was carried out harshly and with surprising precision. And well armed. 

Where did the weapons come from, the rockets that in recent years have mostly died unguided in fields? 

The Russian government has been pointing out for some time that a large number of Western weapons supplied to Ukraine were sold on the arms black market by the per se corrupt Ukrainian officials. What has so far either not found favour in the Western media or has been dismissed as Russian propaganda is now being hotly debated, especially in US circles, which insist on establishing the origin of the weapons. Since realistically there are really only two possible sources, Afghanistan and Ukraine, a turbo may be opening up here that should hasten the already foreseeable Ukrainian defeat. If Ukraine is the source, it would have lost the last vestige of credibility – the euphemistic exaltation of small tactical successes in the context of dramatic losses has gotten around – and would be unworthy of further support. 

And as if it could not have been orchestrated better, in a bad comedy of course, the political harlequin known as Volodomir Selenskyj theatrically speaks out: Russia is behind the Hamas aggression … 

This may still be parroted and reported by the most faithful and dimwitted German mainstream media, but no one who is to be taken seriously believes it. Russia has no interest in an escalation in the Middle East, which it has only just stabilised. 

The truth is bitter. 

And the harlequin should not be surprised if he is fired in the near future, even before the Ukrainian ship of fools sinks.

DEUTSCHE VERSION

DIE VERZWEIFLUNG DES HARLEKIN

Die Hamas greift Israel an. Mit menschenverachtender Brutalität töten sie über tausend Israelis und verspielen damit weltweit jenen Kredit, den ihnen die widerrechtliche Siedlungspolitik Israels in Palästina  zugeschanzt hat. 

Die Attacke wurde hart und überraschend präzise ausgeführt. Und gut bewaffnet. 

Woher stammen die Waffen, die Raketen, die in den vergangenen Jahren zumeist ungelenkt auf Äckern krepierten? 

Die russische Regierung weist seit geraumer Zeit darauf hin, dass eine Vielzahl von an die Ukraine gelieferten westlichen Waffen durch die per se korrupten ukrainischen Verantwortlichen auf dem Waffenschwarzmarkt verkauft würden. Was in den westlichen Medien bisher entweder keinen Anklang fand oder als russische Propaganda abgetan wurde, wird nun heiß diskutiert, insbesondere in US-amerikanischen Kreisen, die insistieren, die Herkunft der Waffen festzustellen. Da es realistischerweise tatsächlich nur zwei mögliche Quellen gibt, nämlich Afghanistan und die Ukraine, tut sich hier möglicherweise ein Turbo auf, der die ohnehin absehbare ukrainische Niederlage beschleunigen sollte. Ist die Ukraine die Quelle, hätte sie auch den letzten Rest – das euphemistische Hochjubeln taktischer Kleinsterfolge im Rahmen dramatischer Verluste hat sich herumgesprochen – an Glaubwürdigkeit verspielt, unwert, weiter unterstützt zu werden. 

Und als hätte man es nicht besser orchestrieren können, in einer schlechten Komödie freilich, meldet sich der politische Harlekin, bekannt als Wolodomir Selenskyj, theatralisch zu Wort: Russland stecke hinter der Hamas‘schen Aggression … 

Dies mögen ihm immer noch die treugläubigsten wie trotteligen deutschen Mainstream-Medien nachbeten und kolportieren, indes, es glaubt kein ernst zu nehmender Akteur. Russland hat kein Interesse an einer Eskalation in Nahost, den es gerade erst stabilisiert hat.

Die Wahrheit ist bitter. 

Und der Harlekin sollte sich nicht wundern, wenn er in Bälde gefeuert wird, noch bevor das ukrainische Narrenschiff sinkt.

И на русском языке …

Отчаяние арлекина

ХАМАС атакует Израиль. С нечеловеческой жестокостью они убивают более тысячи израильтян, тем самым растрачивая по всему миру кредит доверия, который им принесла незаконная поселенческая политика Израиля в Палестине.
Нападение было совершено жестко и с удивительной точностью. И хорошо вооружено.
Откуда взялось оружие, ракеты, которые в последние годы в основном падают неуправляемыми в полях?

Российское правительство уже давно указывает на то, что значительная часть западного оружия, поставленного на Украину, была продана на черном рынке вооружений самими коррумпированными украинскими чиновниками. То, что до сих пор либо не находило поддержки в западных СМИ, либо отвергалось как российская пропаганда, сегодня вызывает жаркие споры, особенно в американских кругах, которые настаивают на установлении происхождения оружия. Поскольку в реальности возможны только два источника – Афганистан и Украина, то, возможно, здесь открывается турбина, которая должна ускорить уже предвидимое поражение Украины. Если источником является Украина, то она потеряет последние остатки доверия к себе – эвфемистическое превознесение тактических мелких успехов на фоне драматических потерь уже достало всех – и будет недостойна дальнейшей поддержки.

И как будто это не могло быть срежиссировано лучше, в плохой комедии, политический арлекин, известный как Володомир Селенский, театрально заявляет: за агрессией ХАМАС стоит Россия…

Это еще могут повторять и сообщать самые верные и тупые немецкие мейнстримные СМИ, но никто из тех, кого можно воспринимать всерьез, в это не верит. Россия не заинтересована в эскалации на Ближнем Востоке, который она только-только стабилизировала.

Правда горька.

И арлекин не должен удивляться, если его уволят в ближайшее время, еще до того, как украинский корабль дураков утонет.

„LIEBE … sie wogt,
als bris‘ in unsre stimmen wohl,
so die welt beschallt mit tönen,
die partout nicht unser scheinen;

LIEBE … ein konzerthaus,
das unsre busen sprengt;

der LIEBE wogen einst verebben mögen, in der weiten ferne, der zeiten allmacht …,
doch als spur sie nie vergehen,
und manchen tags erneut geschehen.“

To be read in German, Russian and English.

Am 16. Mai prophezeite ich, dass die Ukraine (ohne verallgemeinern zu wollen) – gemäß Tacitus’ Weisheit – ihren Gönner durch Hass und Undankbarkeit verraten würde. Hier nachzulesen:

Tacitus‘ Echo. Selenskyis Drama. Eine provokante Prophezeiung.

Und in der Tat, nachdem Polen aufopferungsvoll, unbürokratisch und in vorauseilender Unterstützung nicht nur sicherer Zufluchtsort für Millionen Kriegsflüchtlingen – quasi über Nacht – wurde, sondern auch massive Waffenlieferungen, wirtschaftliche Hilfe in Zig-Milliarden-Höhe (wohl über 23 Milliarden Euro) zur Verfügung stellte, zudem kämpfende Freiwilligenverbände zuließ, verklagt die Ukraine Polen wegen eines Zwistes zum Getreideabkommen, beschimpft dessen Präsident Selenskyj seinen westlichen Nachbarn latent als Russlands Unterstützer. Indes, ohne Polens rasche Hilfe wäre die Ukraine schon zu Kriegsbeginn kollabiert. Und nun buhlt Selenskyj – zwischen Kriecherei und Arroganz – um Deutschland als neuen Hauptpartner in Europa. Dieser Undank, dieser Verrat, so absehbar er war, so sehr er die nicht untypischen Abgründe menschlicher Psychologie verräterischer Charaktere bestätigen mag, so sehr sollte er als Synonym für Undankbarkeit und Verrat zukünftig gelten. Ephialtes? Judas? Brutus? Ja, erbarmungswürdig, aber die Ukrainische Regierung? Reichte das nicht für die Ewigkeit? Schande über diese Regierung und allen, die dieses Verhalten gutheißen, so mag man urteilen – und ich verstünde es.

Als unlängst der ukrainische Außenminister der deutschen Amtskollegin Baerbock sagte, dass sie früher oder später sowieso Taurus-Raketen liefern würden, warum dann nicht sofort(?), offenbarte sich nicht nur eine unglaubliche Arroganz, und damit der wahre Grad an Wertschätzung gegenüber Deutschland, sondern auch die Wahrheit um die tatsächliche Situation in der Ukraine, an der Front, im ganzen Land.

Der gemeine Ukrainer wird kaum wissen, dass die Offensive der Ukrainischen Armee bereits gescheitert ist. Propaganda ist vor allem immer auch fürs eigene Volk gemacht.

Doch was schrieb unlängst Big Serge, ein US-amerikanischer Kriegsblogger? Zitat: “… Die große Sommer-Offensive entwickelt sich für die Ukraine zur Katastrophe.”

Und weiter schreibt er, Zitat: “… Da die Regierung von Präsident Selenskyj darauf beharrt, nicht aufzugeben, bis das Treritorium der Ukraine in Grenzen von 1991 wiederhergestellt ist, stellt die Unfähigkeit, die russischen Streitkräfte zu vertreiben, ein besonders unangenehmes Problem dar. Kiew wird entweder seine Niederlage eingestehen und die russische Kontrolle über die annektierten Gebiete anerkennen müssen. Oder es wird so lange hartnäckig weiterkämpfen, bis es ein gescheiterter Staat ist.” Zitat Ende.

Mit über Vierhunderttausend toten Soldaten (diverse Quellen, unter anderem der Mossad) bisher, blutet die Ukraine schier aus. So tapfer die Soldaten auch kämpfen, sie kämpfen auch für eine hochstilisierte Freiheit und den kruden Selbsterhaltungstrieb einer verantwortungslosen Regierung, die sie opfert. Trotz besseren Wissens um ihre tatsächlichen Chancen.

Undankbarkeit. Verrat. Propaganda. Lügen. Korruption. Niederlagen, wenn auch unter dem Motto “sie haben sich zu Tode gesiegt.”

Vielleicht ist es an der Zeit, Undenkbares zu denken? Warum sollte ein absehbar scheiternder Staat ausschließlich Verhandlungsmasse der bald siegreichen Russen sein? Warum sollte Polen auf einst ureigene Territorien verzichten, wenn es doch 123 Jahre unter völliger Fremdherrschaft überlebt hat? Warum sollte Polen überhaupt noch Rücksicht auf einen offenbar undankbaren, verräterischen Nachbarn nehmen? Wie immer ein jeder diese Fragen für sich auch beantworten mag, ich prophezeie erneut, wie am 16. Mai: die Teilung der Ukraine wird Resultat ihrer Gier und wendehälserischen Art sein; Lemberg und der gesamte Lemberger Bogen wird heimkehren in ein Polen, das so erneut späte Gerechtigkeit erfährt.

Undenkbar? Schauen wir mal …

Русская версия:

16 мая я предсказал, что Украина (не желая обобщать) – согласно мудрости Тацита – предаст своего покровителя через ненависть и неблагодарность. Прочитать можно здесь:

Tacitus‘ Echo. Selenskyis Drama. Eine provokante Prophezeiung.

И действительно, после того как Польша жертвенно, без бюрократических проволочек и упреждающей поддержки не только стала убежищем для миллионов военных беженцев – практически в одночасье, – но и предоставила массированные поставки оружия, десятки миллиардов экономической помощи (вероятно, более 23 млрд. евро), а также разрешила воевать добровольческим отрядам, Украина судится с Польшей из-за спора по зерновому соглашению, подспудно оскорбляя ее президента Зеленского как сторонника России. Однако без оперативной помощи Польши Украина развалилась бы в самом начале войны. А теперь Зеленский – между подхалимством и высокомерием – обхаживает Германию как нового главного партнера в Европе. Эта неблагодарность, это предательство, как бы предсказуемо оно ни было, как бы ни подтверждало нетипичные бездны человеческой психологии вероломных персонажей, должно рассматриваться как синоним неблагодарности и предательства в будущем. Эфиальт? Иуда? Брут? Да, жалко, но украинскую власть? Этого хватит на вечность. Позор этому правительству и всем, кто одобряет такое поведение, можете судить – а я пойму.

Позор этому правительству и всем тем, кто одобряет такое поведение, можно судить – и я бы понял.

Когда недавно министр иностранных дел Украины заявил немецкой коллеге Баербок, что рано или поздно они все равно поставят ракеты „Таурус“, почему не сразу(?), обнаружилось не только невероятное высокомерие, а вместе с ним и истинная степень уважения к Германии, но и правда о реальном положении дел на Украине, на фронте, во всей стране.

Простой украинец вряд ли узнает, что наступление украинской армии уже провалилось. Пропаганда всегда делается прежде всего для своего народа.

А вот что написал недавно американский военный блогер Big Serge? Цитата: „…Великое летнее наступление оборачивается катастрофой для Украины“.

Далее он пишет, цитирую: „… Поскольку правительство президента Зеленского настаивает на том, что не сдастся до тех пор, пока не будет восстановлена Украина в границах 1991 года, неспособность вытеснить российские войска ставит особенно неприятную проблему. Киеву придется либо признать поражение и признать российский контроль над аннексированными территориями. Либо он будет продолжать упорно бороться до тех пор, пока не станет несостоявшимся государством“. Конец цитаты.

К настоящему времени погибло более четырехсот тысяч солдат (по разным данным, включая Моссад), Украина истекает кровью. Как бы мужественно ни сражались солдаты, они сражаются за стилизованную свободу и грубый инстинкт самосохранения безответственного правительства, которое приносит их в жертву. Несмотря на то, что лучше знает об их реальных шансах.

Неблагодарность. Предательство. Пропаганда. Ложь. Коррупция. Поражения, хотя и под девизом „они сами себя победили“.

Может быть, настало время задуматься о немыслимом? Почему заведомо несостоятельное государство должно стать эксклюзивным козырем для скорого победителя русских? Почему Польша должна отдавать территории, которые когда-то были ее собственными, если она 123 года прожила под полным иностранным господством? Почему Польша должна проявлять хоть какое-то внимание к явно неблагодарному, вероломному соседу? Как бы каждый ни отвечал на эти вопросы для себя, я еще раз, как и 16 мая, предсказываю: раздел Украины станет результатом их алчности и предательства, Львов и вся Львовская дуга вернутся домой, в Польшу, которая, таким образом, в очередной раз обретет запоздалую справедливость.

Немыслимо? Посмотрим…

English version:

On 16 May, I predicted that Ukraine (without wanting to generalise) – according to Tacitus‘ wisdom – would betray its patron through hatred and ingratitude. To be read here:

Tacitus‘ Echo. Selenskyis Drama. Eine provokante Prophezeiung.

And indeed, after Poland sacrificially, unbureaucratically and in anticipatory support not only became a safe haven for millions of war refugees – virtually overnight – but also provided massive arms supplies, tens of billions in economic aid (probably over 23 billion euros), in addition to allowing fighting volunteer units, Ukraine is suing Poland over a dispute on the grain agreement, latently insulting via their president Selenskyj as Russia’s supporter. However, without Poland’s quick help, Ukraine would have collapsed at the beginning of the war. And now Selenskyj – between sycophancy and arrogance – is courting Germany as a new main partner in Europe. This ingratitude, this betrayal, as predictable as it was, as much as it may confirm the not untypical abysses of human psychology of treacherous characters, it should be considered a synonym for ingratitude and betrayal in the future. Ephialtes? Judas? Brutus? Yes, pitiful, but the Ukrainian government? Isn’t enough for eternity? Shame on this government and all those who approve of this behaviour, one might judge – and I would understand.

When the Ukrainian Foreign Minister recently told his German counterpart Baerbock that sooner or later they would deliver Taurus missiles anyway, why not now(?), not only was an unbelievable arrogance revealed, and with it the true degree of esteem towards Germany, but also the truth about the actual situation in Ukraine, on the front, in the whole country.

The common Ukrainian will hardly know that the offensive of the Ukrainian army has already failed. Above all, propaganda is always made for one’s own people.

But what did Big Serge, a US war blogger, write recently? Quote: „… The great summer offensive is turning into a disaster for Ukraine.“

He goes on to write, quote, „… With President Selenskyj’s government insisting it will not give up until Ukraine’s treritorium is restored within 1991 borders, the inability to dislodge Russian forces poses a particularly unpleasant problem. Kiev will either have to admit defeat and recognise Russian control over the annexed territories. Or it will continue to fight stubbornly until it is a failed state.“ End quote.

With over four hundred thousand soldiers dead (various sources, including the Mossad) so far, Ukraine is bleeding to death. As bravely as the soldiers are fighting, they are also fighting for a highly stylised freedom and the crude instinct for self-preservation of an irresponsible government that is sacrificing them. Despite knowing better about their real chances.

Ingratitude. Betrayal. Propaganda. Lies. Corruption. Defeats, albeit under the motto „they won themselves to death.“

Perhaps it is time to think the unthinkable? Why should a foreseeably failing state be the exclusive bargaining chip of the soon-to-be victorious Russians? Why should Poland give up territories that were once her own, when she has survived 123 years under total foreign rule? Why should Poland show any consideration at all for an obviously ungrateful, treacherous neighbour? However everyone may answer these questions for themselves, I predict once again, as on 16 May: the partition of Ukraine will be the result of their greed and turncoat ways; Lviv and the entire Lviv Arc will return home to a Poland that will thus once again receive belated justice.

Unthinkable? Let’s see …

Balkans, oh Balkans … at night it’s in Warsaw, even darker in Germany.

And I hear the call of Balkan …, despite the rhythms of the day. Nothing in the world pulsates like this region. When I think of Bulgaria at night, I am … not deprived of sleep … no, I am alive.

As I am only in Serbia, when heart meets memory, and gratitude for hundreds of years of sacrifice against the Turks.

Ovoje Balkan.

Kein Blatt, das fällt im Wind;

lau ins Tal er streicht,

in die Alleen,

in die Gassen,

die – gesäumt von Häusern – erstaunte Menschenmassen erfassen …

Wie Kinder sie tollen, umhüllt des warmen Goldes;

auf Schatten sie treten,

fangen ein der Lichter irren Tanz,

so dass sie selbst wie Derwische erscheinen,

gelenkt von jener Kraft, die die Sonne macht.

Spät ist‘s im Jahr, die Tage längst kürzer,

der Sommer wankt,

doch weicht er nicht den Zeiten folgend.

Nur in der Nacht der Abschied droht,

als fröstelnd Schultern den Weibern gebot,

in Wolle gehüllt, ans Feuer zu rücken,

und in ihre Träume zurückzublicken,

bis die letzte Glut erloschen.

INDIAN SUMMER the English version

Not a leaf falling in the wind; lukewarm it sweeps gently like a breeze into the valley, into the avenues, into the alleys which – lined with houses – capture astonished crowds.

Like children, they cavort, wrapped in warm gold, stepping on shadows, catching the crazy dance of the lights so that they themselves seem like dervishes, guided by that power which makes the sun.

It is late in the year, the days have long since grown shorter, summer wavers, but it does not give way to time.

Only at night does farewell threaten, when trembling shoulders command the wool-wrapped women to move to the fire and look back into their dreams … until the last glow are died.

Attention: full satire!

Do you still remember? Germany was the reigning football world champion. Four times. The third time was in 1990, when the giants took the crown. 1:0 against Argentina. Matthäus. The only goal scorer Brehme. Littbarski. Illner. Just real men … Other heroes. Then it was quiet for a long time. But in 2014 it finally happened again. 1:0 again. Again against Argentina. This time Götze was the hero. Schürrle’s preparatory work, carried by sheer Teutonic willpower, found Götze, who finished intuitively and delicately and, for the Gauchos, fatally. All of Germany was in a frenzy of joy, even weeks later; a feeling of „we“ swept through the country, truly profoundly called „four-feeling“ (in German language is “we” “wir” which sounds like “vier” which means “four”; just a charming word game) like by the Bild newspaper, because a fourth star was now emblazoned on the heroes‘ breasts. Hooray. Everywhere. Bread and games. The membranes separating the social classes suddenly seemed more permeable than ever. „We King of world,“ Ali shouted in expandable German.

Today, however, you would find yourself in a country whose sports athletes – quoting a former German world-class high jumped – have lost their „toughness“; a bitter realisation by this ex-sports star, who sees Germany as having arrived in complete insignificance after zero medals at the recent World Championships in Athletics. Like Micronesia, where the name has always been the programme in sporting terms; but Germany? The former medal forge par excellence? A trūmmerised heap, degenerate in ordinariness, in sameness and denial of achievement.

The neglect of the elites, the Babylonian melting pot, media gender coercion and LGBTQ are bearing rotten fruit; the country is rotten, smearing, below average. All this strikes you.

Which reminds me of a certainty: Germans are dying out. Okay, yawn, that’s not a new insight, and not quite so soon, perhaps, but still with mathematical certainty … Snip-snip, the end. Despite occasional eruptions of birth rates a la insemination, which not infrequently causes quadruplets and is also often chosen by lesbians as a means of reproduction. But these are probably only small coarse grains in the maelstrom of history; they refuse to join the maw, circle desperately at its edge, lurch, stagger, stretch into the light – and yet are erased, like a mistake, like a touch of guilt.

Since I am not a Nazi – the violent cynics from Germany’s dark times would probably have sent me to the gas because of my origins – I dare, despite the expected misinterpretations of green-political hypocrites who presume to play the role of regulator, to start thinking from the realisation of the probably imminent end of the Germans. Raising questions. Curious as I am.

First of all, I ask myself, what is it actually? The German? Does it still exist at all? When is one German? What makes one German? The blood? The genes? A birthplace between Sylt and Kiefersfelden, even if the Punjab indicates parentage? Or – with respect – an origin between Alsace and Torun? Or simply a significant thirst for beer? Or perhaps a barbaric envy that always wells up and, if necessary, vomits hurricane-like into the German environment when a colleague gets a pay rise?

The neighbour owns the bigger house? Or the disgustingly handsome guy have already his seventh lady endeavour this summer? And on top of that, the cretin drives a Porsche? Is it enough to have a German passport to be German? Like millions of ethnic Turks loyal to Erdogan?

Accompanied by a nebulous sense of loss that stirs me up, I sense that being German has long since changed. The street scenes are obvious.

Perhaps German is an expression and synonym for a pre-future social creed, a la All men are brothers, or All men are equal? True to the motto: It doesn’t matter where you come from, who you pray to, whether you pray at all. The main thing is eating, football, fucking, watching television?

In Germany there is freedom of opinion.

Freedom of opinion … Yes, that may well be true, in Germany everyone is allowed to say (almost) anything to anyone. You can even post yourself in front of the Bundestag or on some damn street corner and shout (at least until 10 p.m.); Germans, the real ones, are very petty when it comes to keeping the peace at night), salivating, spitting, into the crackling mike that politicians are the last straw, especially this one or that one of the guild, Foreign Minister Baerbock obviously mentally deficient, Economics Minister Habeck quite a jerk, and Chancellor Scholz a liar who, on top of it all, hurt himself jogging, no, not his foot, but his face; some things you can’t make up. Life itself leads ad absurdum.

All this can be said in Germany, shouted at the top of one’s voice (except for the denial of the Shoa, which is also correct so that it is not forgotten or relativised). And nothing happens. At most, a report of green morons who see themselves tempted to spout their ideological nonsense. But otherwise? In any case, no nandrolone-injected bone crushers show up, and certainly not the police. You might get a few pitying looks, or a few cents. Because nobody is interested in what you are shouting about. The citizen’s opinion is inflationary. Even if two hundred thousand people take to the streets against something, nothing changes. A little media hype, a few chattering politicians, slavering GREENS and LEFTISTS, that’s it. A pseudo-freedom of expression prevails. At first glance, this may seem more pleasing and more democratic than censorship and arbitrariness, but the result is astonishingly identical: a babbling crowd that nobody listens to is confronted with a muted one. I can hardly think of a difference in the result.

But if one critically states that Germany has not only changed in the sense of modernity, globalisation, high-tech development, an energy turnaround – albeit suspected of being gigantic mumbo-jumbo – but also in terms of the ethnic, cultural and religious composition of the population, one enters a fiery furnace.

A perceived million egalitarians, Germany-haters, a bulk of journalists I like to call „faecalaisists“, and sourpusses are fuelling the melting monster. After all, the right is lurking everywhere … Let’s be honest, hand on heart, which clear-thinking person among us is not overcome by nausea?

Maybe I am a Nazi? it seizes me.

Clearly I feel more than a touch of dismay. A surge of bad conscience, too. But what does that mean? Nazi? According to the general tenor in the media and society, I would have to be pretty stupid, barely able to speak, let alone write, probably bald, think foreigners are shit and be a loser in general. As a Nazi, I would also have to reject the democratic-secular system (without knowing what secular means) in this country, perhaps fight it. Just like Mr. Mundlos and Co. once did. Only without false friends. That is, without the help of the BND. Pardon me, I couldn’t resist the joke.

I look in the mirror. Well, I have what Hitler once preferred: blue eyes. An imaginary tick is quickly made in my head list. I’m also quite tall, at least not as short as a kümmel Turk – hey, I’m kidding, sorry – but a full one metre and ninety-one. Standard size, so to speak. The next tick.

I’m beginning to get a queasy feeling. But I am not despondent. Ah, courage! Another tick? No. Dogs can be brave too, even Italians. In times of peace – and when a ship isn’t breaking up, right, “Schetti” (you remember the “brave” captain of the luxury liner?).

I recall my language. German. As an ex-Leipziger, I also know Saxon, but I don’t really use it. Anyway, another tick made.

To sum up. Aryan eyes, a good measure, defender of the German linguistic heritage. That already sounds suspiciously Nazi, I think. But I haven’t finished adding it up.

Father? Oh, damn. That’s messing up my cut. Arabs. Father’s atheism, friendship with Assad and high-ranking diplomatic career won’t help.

Mother? I almost don’t dare reveal it. From east of the Vistula. Polish. Her mother also with Belarusian roots. The image of the Nazi is crumbling. But maybe I am a kind of one-eyed Charlie like Samuel Jackson embodied in Tarantino’s „Django unchained“? The scales are tipping back towards Nazi, I thstrangely elated. But in the unconditional will to know what I am now, I force myself to calm down, thinking abruptly of delaying an orgasm. Then I am overcome by thoughtfulness. I review my views, inclinations, sayings that I like to share with my friends. What do I think about democracy?

I don’t vote (you recognise the defiance in these words?).

Not because I didn’t want to, but because no party appeals to me. And compromises are not my thing. I find the Left’s foreign policy partly acceptable, their attitude to Russia conciliatory, but the tax on the rich and the old West German communists horrify me. SPD? The Polilux image of a flux animal from biology class pops into my head. CDU? Everything, but no opposition. And if Merkel’s portrait made me laugh, Merz’s only makes me cry, and the food I’ve recently eaten urges me to vomit it up explosively. Greens? I don’t like fascists. FPD? I have to grin. Spontaneous. The only one with charisma seemed to me to be Möllemann, but he’s long dead. AfD? Let’s wait and see … it can hardly get worse. At least I buy their attachment to Germany. NPD? Hey, they’re supposed to be Nazis. Should even be banned. Which, in the eyes of a passionate rebel, at least surrounds them with the aura of interesting. But I remember hearing about thieving MPs, gutturally stammering speakers and, above all, bad clothes. So, no, not them either. So I am a non-voter. With a pocket square and very cool shoes. But a non-voter not because of disorientation or a fatalistic world view, but because of a lack of alternatives.

Does that make me a democracy denier? I don’t think so. Especially since I cannot deny or affirm anything that does not actually exist: Democracy, rule of the people. Nonsense. I attach greater importance to driving forces from industrial circles and think tanks than to elections that are decided indirectly through the use of controlled or latently manipulated media and the stoking of fears of loss. Am I serious? But yes! Perhaps Nazi tendencies are resonating there after all? I continue to examine myself.

What do I think about foreigners? Tough question. A world opens up. But first I feel thirsty for beer. So I get myself a beer. A German one. Ha! Fizz. Tastes manly. Ice cold. But the Poles brew good stuff too, the Czechs anyway. In view of the Slavic competition, I don’t want to infer a Nazi tendency from good German beer. So I dismiss the idea and delve deeper into the subject of foreigners. When is one … um… just one?

Let’s take a citizen of the Federal Republic of Germany of Turkish origin whose parents once immigrated from Anatolia. His parents were born there, in Turkey, but have been living in Almania for thirty years. He himself was born in Berlin, let’s say in Wedding. Good. Starting point. So is he one, a foreigner? Even though he has a German (and secretly a Turkish) passport? According to legal reading, probably not, clearly a German! But for me and my salvation, it’s still a tricky question; I don’t trust the roast, I realise. I remember a video that recently made the rounds via Whatsapp. A southern-looking man wearing a cheap Hawaiian-made necklace in the German national colours around his neck, calls his employer after a night of drinking and stammers „üsch kaputt“, „Raki“, „nüsch komme“ and „siktir“ (fuck you) on the phone. I combine.

My mind is made up. He is a foreigner if – after a period of time, let’s say five years, even more so if he was born in Germany – he doesn’t master the German language halfway, as an alternative, like a four-year-old. So that would be a foreigner for me. On the other hand, I don’t give a damn about legality antics. Okay, we have that. Now to the question of whether I make distinctions about foreigners? You see me looking embarrassed. Because I do make these differences. After all, they are different, the foreigners. I could write down a whole list right now. Well, I think French people are really great. You know, savoir vivre and all that. The Scots are good too. They’re both my favourites. A cultural circle, so to speak. And I think Russians are great too; I’m sure there’s a fair amount of respect here, after all, they won the Second World War, they’re doing their thing in Ukraine, they produced Sholokhov as a writer. And quite honestly, a borscht prepared with dignity is unbeatable. Hungarians are also great, by the way. Not because of the goulash. Somehow peculiar, these people. Like cats. They do what they want, don’t let themselves be bent. What about the Poles? Hey, I am living in Poland, I am half polish; besides, I’m biased, I have two of my best friends here. Asians? Cat heads, one of my Leipzig friends always says, but that’s really dumb racist and fundamentally wrong, so I always pretend I didn’t hear it.

Americans? I don’t like them much, but I know there are really (!) cool guys among them. Arabs? It depends. An educated Syrian or Jordanian, a doctor for example, is hard to beat as a conversation partner. But the mob? Always this aggressiveness. And then always this „Uallah, Alder“ … Who needs that nonsense?

Once again I sum up. Apparently, I tend to make distinctions according to my own taste. I think some foreigners are wonderful, and I wouldn’t even think of showing them any less esteem than I would a … let’s say… um… real coffee Saxons. Other foreigners inspire me less, they should stay where the pepper grows. This ambivalence doesn’t really get me anywhere. Am I a Nazi or not, damn it?

I finally decide, rather annoyed, not to be one, but I admit to holding quite specific opinions that might be classified by mentally boarded-up third parties (you know, the Green fascists) as tending to the right of centre. I know democracy isn’t one, freedom of expression is tolerated but a toothless tiger, certain foreigners are suspect to me, I look pretty Aryan, and have turned my back on the electoral system. The fact that I come from foreign parents, love certain foreigners, and regard religion – as does the Jewish-American Nobel Prize winner and atheist Steven Weinberg – as a cause of human damage, seems likely to cause confusion.

Man mag sich fragen, was nützt einem die Lyrik? Bezahlt sie Rechnungen? Fördert sie Geschäftliches? Macht sie gesünder? Ist der Lyrik Kraft Quell für Pragmatisches? Rettet Lyrik? Vergibt sie? Ist Lyrik zeitgemäß?

Und so stehe ich vor allen Ahnen, auf festem Boden, mit Mondschein im Gesicht. Was ihr gewesen seid, bin ich. Quell und Bande, Bruder und Schwester, im Echo wir widerhallen, dem Chor entlehnt, der uns intoniert und eint für alle Zeit.

Ach, könnt‘ ich doch sehen wie du, Dominic, die Seelen der Menschen …

Dafür aber fliege ich, wie du auf Empfindungen, mit Worten, die mir entsprungen und zeigen, was dir vergönnt (ist) …

очистка, на немецком и русском языках.

Ich frage mich:

Wie kann man ein Land bekämpfen, indirekt oder direkt, dass für alle Ewigkeiten seinen Blutzoll entrichtet hat? Das die Welt mit Siebenundzwanzigmillionen Opfern vor einem nationalistischen Despoten, Hitler, gerettet hat? Es gab kein größeres Armageddon in der Menschheitsgeschichte; die Metapher „biblischen Ausmaßes“ mutete – benutzte man sie in diesem Kontext – verniedlichend an …

Ich schäme mich zutiefst, dass die so genannte „westliche Welt“ – im Gegensatz zum berechtigten Gedenken der Shoa – das Opfer der Russen vergessen hat.

Ich möchte jeden Russen um Verzeihung bitten. Undank ist der Welten Lohn.

Aber eines sei gewiss:

Millionen in Ostdeutschland wissen um die Wahrheit. Wenn der Tag der Abrechnung kommt, und er wird es, wisst – so bitte ich euch Russen – zu unterscheiden.

Millionen in Ostdeutschland lieben Russland und sind dankbar für alle Zeit …

На русском языке

Я спрашиваю себя:
Как можно воевать против страны, которая вечно платила кровью? Которая спасла мир от националистического деспота Гитлера с двадцатью семью миллионами жертв?

В истории человечества не было более великой жертвы; метафора „библейских пропорций“, употребленная в данном контексте, кажется тривиальной…

Мне глубоко стыдно, что так называемый западный мир – в отличие от Шоа – забыл о жертве русских.

Я хотел бы попросить прощения у каждого россиянина. Неблагодарность – это награда мира.
Но одно можно сказать с уверенностью: миллионы людей в Восточной Германии знают правду. Когда наступит день расплаты, а он наступит, пожалуйста, знайте, как отличиться.
Миллионы жителей Восточной Германии любят Россию и благодарны ей за все то время…

The storm you create in me is like the silence I long for.

Against haste stands the virtue of patience. But what if the ice floes break and I always, yes, always want to float on yours? Wherever the current takes us?

What the Kiev supporters in the West and no one in Kiev themselves want to imagine, what is branded as taboo and produces toxic reactions among the media and politicians, is a scenario that, on sober reflection, seems increasingly likely:

Russia will prevail. Putin will win after a high tribut of blood. Russia will bitter sweet triomphed.

It will not (be able to) prevail militarily, but it will ultimately achieve its goals on a broad front. Demilitarisation of Ukraine. Prevention of NATO accession der Ukraine. State annexation of further Ukrainian, but former historical Russian territories. A change of government, and thus a more Russia-friendly course.

Why?

For many reasons.

And – admittedly – being right is sometimes the purest pleasure if the psychology is the deeper reason.

What I wrote in my article „TACITUS‘ ECHO. SELENSKYI’S DRAMA. A PROVOCATIVE PROPHECY.“ on 16 May (https://ingorimchudoba.com/2023/05/16/tacitus-echo-selenskyis-drama-eine-provokante-prophezeiung/), is proving more and more true.

The latent ingratitude of the Kyiv government towards its supporters in the „West“, born of the awareness that it can never repay what it has been given, as Tacitus once philosophised in exemplary fashion, is becoming increasingly difficult to cover up. On the one hand, this is understandable – the protagonists‘ sheer survival is at stake – but on the other hand, human nature in this context, especially not by proud Ukrainians who are steeped in overbording expectations, cannot be restrained. The truth finally breaks through.

Yes, the front is crumbling. This can already be seen in certain statements: Poland distancing itself (also because of the cheap Ukrainian grain ruining Polish farmers), Ben Wallace’s (defence minister of UK) remark „we are not Amazon“ in relation to ever more gigantic demands for arms deliveries, domestic in a lot of countries demands to the contrary for a correction of unconditional support for Kiev …

It is only a matter of time before support wanes, especially when Ukraine is practically less and less able to support itself, fails to achieve anything really decisive militarily in parallel, thus making a nonsense of its propaganda, and meanwhile two generations of men die in the fire. With all respect of the brave the soldiers …

Russia, on the other hand, only has to dig in, withstand the increasingly desperate offensive attempts of the Ukrainian army, occasionally attack Ukrainian cities (in this phase will also be no significant investments ), and wait … What the West not accept or believe … Russia can wait.

At some point, the blow away billions of euros in European budgets will become dramatically apparent and the question „How many billions more for occasionally recaptured villages that will then maybe be lost again?“ will become louder and louder and finally culminate in the ultimate demand to the Kiev address for a negotiated peace. Russia will then determine this – or will longer waiting …

One may or may not find this just, heretical, depending on one’s perspective, but it should not surprise anyone if this is exactly what happens.

All this has been foreseeable for a long time, but the Western media in particular, and with them a whole squad of know-it-all so-called experts and politicians, seem incapable of foreseeing three moves, let alone objectively accepting the foreseeable.

They, too, should ask themselves one day whether their ignorance of the realities, of Tacitus‘ wisdom, their blind acceptance of – understandable – Ukrainian propaganda, did not prolong the war and thus accept the death of even more soldiers. They will doing not, of course. Because they are incapable of self-criticism and ideologically polarised. They will cover the blood on their hands with the next foreseeable failure, such as the lies about climate change, LGBT nonsense, the next Corona wave or the fight against the right. Maybe someone will do them a favour and stage a coup somewhere in Africa. And Trump will also become an issue again … May God have mercy on them.