Sunday 28 February 2016

Teufelstein


The Devil has many stones. 

This particular Teufelstein is to be found on top of a mountain near to the village of Fischbach in the Austrian province of Styria. 

With a companion I was there to take a look at the route of a mountain marathon we had under consideration. 

It was an enjoyable experience to gallop along in the sunshine over a couple of sections of the course, including the section which crosses the moorland road at the top of the pass under the shadow of the Teufelstein.

We slept in a mountain hut after a lovely Austrian evening full of beer and music and dancing and singing. 

The next day was hot. We went to an outdoor swimming pool to cool off. But soon we had to run for cover. A tremendous thunderstorm. There was considerable damage and many roads were closed. 

I didn't do the race. 



This post is linked to Inspired Sundays

The Devil never sleeps.




Saturday 27 February 2016

Balthus at the Kunstforum

From the flyer:

For the first time in Austria the Bank Austria Kunstforum Wien is presenting a retrospective of the work of Balthasar Klossoski de Rola (1908-2001), called "Balthus", one of the great lone wolves among the painter personalities of the twentieth century.


Wow! I thought. And how quickly I went!


The exhibition did in fact cast light on Balthus's work as my leaflet stated.

Of particular interest to me were the so-called two important paintings. They related to Emily Bronte's wonderful novel Wuthering Heights. 

Gloriously and mysteriously they faced each other across a large space. The heavenly tragical voice of Kate Bush ran through the back of my head like a moorland gale.


But. 

There's always a But.


For some reason it is not permitted to take photographs even without a flash in this museum, despite the fact that one sees no obvious signing to this effect. I only discovered this by chance. The error of my ways during one of my previous visits was the presence of a camera in my hand. . Suddenly I found myself surrounded by the museum's Kunstpolizei. I was firmly ticked off and sternly told to put the offending article away.

Those who take photos with mobile phones appear to go unchallenged.  Perhaps they manage to evade the wandering eye of officialdom if the phone is held to the body. I don't know. And in any case I don't fall into that category of phone user. My device is an idiot proof basic model.

And so as I wandered slowly through the halls I consoled myself that I would be able to purchase a few postcards including the ones bearing pictures of the two important paintings when I eventually passed through the obligatory museum shop on my way to the exit.  Then I would be in a position to discuss with you the relationship of the two important paintings to each other and to one or two of the other paintings.

I was wrong. Mysteriously there were no Balthus postcards on sale.

And that is why dear reader we are not discussing the two important paintings here today.

Perhaps they are on the internet or the museum's website. They will be titled Cathy's Toilette and The Blanchard Children. 

Personally I am now so disappointed that I can't be bothered to look.

In the reverential language of Viennese officialdom: We pray for your understanding. 



Balthus Exhibition open daily: 24.2 - 19.6.2016. 


Bank Austria Kunstforum Wien 
Freyung 8 
Vienna



Admission €11.00 Seniors €8.50





Thursday 25 February 2016

The Hands of the Gods


The Hand of God 'A'

The Hand of God 'B'

Imagine there are 3 Gods.
You cannot see their faces
but you can see their hands. Let's call them A, B, and C. 

Imagine you now have to choose
one God, and one only
to worship and serve. Which one shall it be?  A, B, or C?


The Hand of God 'C' 

D-EU-TSCHLAND NICHT ÜBER ALLES


Germany which likes to see itself as the no. 1 EU policy maker and guiding light now feels betrayed by its exasperating little brother, the Republic of Austria.

Austria officially opted out of Germany's open door immigration policy following a summit yesterday with Balkan conveyor belt countries like Slovenia and Macedonia; a meeting  to which Germany and Greece were tellingly not invited. A decision was made. The conveyor belt has been stopped.

Germany is a major industrial country with an alarmingly low birthrate. Where is the factory fodder to come from? Answer: through the open door. Hence the flood of young virile men. Hence the growing problems. Hence the Geneva Convention and the Dublin Accords, rules designed to deal with refugees in an orderly and prescribed manner, were thrown into the trash can.

The EU's latest mastermind, Jean Claud Junker (Luxembourg - Europe's richest country and tax haven) has weighed in with veiled threats on the side of D-EU-TSCHLAND. What should Austria, now between a rock and a hard place, and faced with almost overwhelming pressure to get back on the German track do? Answer: Maintain the new status quo. Sometimes doing nothing is the best option. Austria must remain strong and firm and be prepared to call the Merkel-Junker bluff.

The refugee crisis is a wake up call for the EU which is now splintering into four or five distinct groups. If the EU is to hold together then Germany must learn listen and consider carefully the opinions of other EU countries and begin to co-operate with them rather than trying to dictate to them.

If the Germans decide to import another million people it would be sensible to discuss the logistics before throwing open the door and setting out the welcome mat. They might consider using some of their huge cruise liners* to bring their immigrants from wherever they happen to be directly to the docks of Hamburg for example. In this way Greece, Italy, Austria, Macedonia, Croatia, Serbia, Slovenia and the other affected countries would be better able to cope, and the EU and the Schengen Zone might just hold together.



*Dear Mrs Merkel, Why not start such an initiative today? Yes, this very day. Send out your fleet of refugee ships to Greece and take the refugees directly to Germany. It's a simple thing to do, and you will gain respect from the global community. Even from Austria. Think about those scenes of great delight when your first ocean liner arrives in Hamburg, as opposed to yet more pictures of bewildered children and parents in endless queues behind chain link and barbed wire fences.








Wednesday 24 February 2016

Vienna Man Fined for Loud Burp



to belch
or not to belch
that is the question

whether 'tis nobler to suffer
the sinful side effects
of the doner kebab

steeped in spicy sauce
and cold sharp slices
of onion

churning
and rumbling
in the grumbling belly

when not to belch
denies that natural reflex
with visage blue

as the policeman's
uniform
there on the corner

notebook in hand
and pencil poised 
ready to swing into action

should the bodily gasses
loudly escape
into the realm of the fun park

offending the sensitive ears 
of the law 
which will surely lead to

the hand
on the shoulder
and the consequent fine

oh, the spirit is willing
but . . . the stomach . . .  the stomach
is weak . . . 

. . . BUUUURRRP!

O what 
a blessed release
from gastric discomfort

worth 
every cent 
of 70 euros

*



bardic burping footnote: in some countries, notably India where they have burping contests, a burp is a sign that you have enjoyed your meal. Australians are said to appreciate a burp, the longer and louder the better, but I don't know if that's true.

Sunday 21 February 2016

The Queen of Sheba's Nightmare

The man who wishes to preserve sanity in a dangerous world should summon in his own mind a parliament of fears, in which each in turn is voted absurd by all the others. - Bertrand Russell.





The Queen of Sheba's Nightmare is the first short story in Bertrand Russell's collection The Nightmares of Eminent Persons (published 1955 by Simon and Schuster). Here is my heavily abridged version. For some strange reason it reminds me of the EU. 


The Queen was returning from a visit to King Solomon and was accompanied by her Chief Counselor. 

As they journeyed on their asses the Queen expressed her admiration for King Solomon; for his treasures, for his wisdom, for his sagacious conversation. "A man," said the queen, "worthy of my love." 

At that moment a man dressed in rags approached on foot. The Queen demanded to know who the man was. 

"Your Majesty, my name is Beelzebub," the man replied. 

The Queen had never heard of Beelzebub and was eager to discover more. She soon found that Beelzebub was a friend of King Solomon, and had an even grander palace, and even more treasures, and was even wiser than Solomon, and that his conversation was even more scintillating. And when Beelzebub offered to show the Queen his palace she was unable to resist. 

Soon they came a measureless cave in the mountains. Beelzebub led the way through long tunnels and narrow passages. Eventually they came to a vast hall lit by innumerable lamps. The walls and the roof glittered with precious stones. Three hundred silver thrones were arranged along the walls. The Queen was suitably impressed. "Magnificent," she purred. 

"You shall now see my Presence Chamber," said Beelzebub, and he led the Queen through an invisible door into the next room which was twice the size of the first, and was bedecked with twice the number of jewels and precious stones, and was even more brilliantly lit. Arranged along three of the walls were seven hundred golden thrones. And on the fourth wall there were two great thrones composed entirely of precious stones, diamonds, sapphires, rubies, pearls bound together by some unfathomable and strange art. 

"This," said Beelzebub, "is my great hall, and of the two jeweled throne, one is mine and the other shall be yours." 

"Who will occupy the seven hundred thrones?" the Queen asked. 

"You will know in due course," said Beelzebub. And then he explained about his magic powers. And how he could be wooing in many places at the same time and tempting many beautiful women into his throne rooms. 

Beautiful women, including Solomon's chief consort, filed in and filled the seven hundred thrones. 

Solomon's concubines already filled the three hundred silver thrones. 

"Perfidious monster!" raged Queen Sheba, realizing she had been fooled. "Henceforth I shall rule alone and no male will ever deceive me." 

"I'm afraid you don't realize your position. I showed you the way in, but only I can find the way out. This is the abode of the dead, and you are here for all eternity.You will occupy the throne next to mine, but only until you are superseded by the last Queen of Egypt." 

Fortunately for the Queen of Sheba it was all a nightmare from which she soon awoke, albeit  in a tumult of rage and despair. 

"I fear," said the Chief Counselor, "that your majesty has had troubled dreams."





Thursday 18 February 2016

Enlightenment


Who's
going
to drive
the
cabs

and
who's
going to
shave
the

kebabs?
O
give
 these
folks

Enlightenment

as Elmer Gantry
Said oft.


Saturday 13 February 2016

Machine Gun


There is a poem
about a machine gun.

It was written by a refugee.
A boy.

The background was black.
The colour of death.

Black is the colour of profit.

The machine gun
is an assembly line product
sold for profit.

Red is the colour of blood.
The colour of loss.




Two popes meeting in Cuba to heal a spilt. They meet to put an end to a 1,000 year quarrel.

One of them, Pope Kyrill, takes the opportunity to give the misnamed War on Terror his blessing. It is, says Kyrill, a Holy War.

Well, that's that then.

Let's forget that the sands of time and the place are already stained with blood of countless millions.

Let's forget the excuse for the never-ending 9/11 Crusade. It was bogus.

Unfortunately we cannot forget the many millions of displaced and the orphaned. They are fleeing into Jordan, Lebanon, Turkey, countries bordering Syria and Iraq, and into many countries in Europe in search of sanctuary.

But Pope Kyrill says this so-called War on Terror is a Holy War.

I guess that makes it alright to kill another million or two.

The reality is that religion is an old family business.

Religion is based on ancient zodiacs, sun worship, and other nonsense. Like war, it's twin brother, it is a curse on mankind.















Friday 12 February 2016

WARS



WARS for the oil.

WARS for the water. 

WARS for the factories.

WARS for the fields. 

WARS for the women.

WARS for the priests.

WARS for the children.

WARS for beliefs.




Tuesday 9 February 2016

Sorry to disturb you


main river 
churning it out 

the daily 
prop

-aganda 
motto_ we lie but not a lot 

spiced news 

with a slant

sprinkled 
with spin 

the daily 

puff piece 

served up 
with bullsjot 

you waited a month 
for the news 

of the little boy buggered 
in the swimming pool toilets 

four days 

for those girls 

raped and groped 
in the square 

slight oversights
hardly worth mentioning 

nine-eleven 

forget it 

stranger 
than fiction 
is what's in the dust . . . 

pull it 

said larry 
so pull it they did . . . 

now

get zapping back

to your soaps 

on the box 

 news 

is the news 

whatever 

you say 




Monday 8 February 2016

On the Golden Way


Create a wish list.
Remind yourself you are valuable.
Wear colours and styles that feel right and suit you.
Love yourself - be your own best friend.
Be the person you want to be.
Watch lots of stars and sunsets.

Sunday 7 February 2016

Concrete Box


Concrete Box (Church in Vienna) 

To me it looks like a fire station. Bells could ring and lights could flash. A red machine could come roaring out of the place. It's the church belonging to the tower in fog I showed last Sunday. 

It's an appropriate piece of architecture since we all end up in the flames of an expanding solar fire when the sun breaths its last sigh. 

We come from fire and we go back to fire. It's not "down there below in hell". It's simply how it is. A natural process of nature. 



Thursday 4 February 2016

"Wot, fish fingers again?"



It is reported on the front page of today's edition of Heute that an Austrian princess and her British husband have separated after many years together. One of the couple's 6 children said: Daddy is fed up with eating fish fingers.