THE EVER-HUNGRY DATABANDITS

 When anyone scans you at the next corner
just seal your fine postbox and smart mobile
if you prefer to follow omnipresent pretenders
of all those aspiring vague securities.
But there will be no awkward dungeon
 that you can force upon the eternal free mind.

Linked to dVerse Quadrille.

 

 

SURREAL URBAN CONQUESTS

Sometimes reality and magic build a fruitful symbiosis in daily life – unusual situations arising from random collisions of open minds. These more time-limited incidents can tell us true stories – tangible modern mysteries of past and present times.


Royalistic ghostrider on Charlottenburg castle facade

the-snakeCommunal snake (concept: Mathilde ter Hejne)

Such sudden surprises loose their real attraction when looking for a sense or necessity in each and everything. Just following the flow of happenings, more often leads to fascinating objects when we simply stumble over the diverse silhouetted fans of reality.

A welcome bench for contemporary meetings

Tree emoticon at a very busy through street

Just follow the bursting walls

These visualized dreams are hiding at unexpected places or may also be not visible by first view, visionary connections such as these here picked up at diverse locations in the city of Berlin.

FALLEN ANGELS ON THE RUN

The air is surely these angels’ element of freedom,
as they are to become one flesh with the birds
amid the ebb and flow of fugitive infinity.
To be away from home and yet to feel
oneself everywhere at home,
to be at the centre of the world,
and yet to remain hidden from the world,
 erratic aliens finally hooked on fatal trips.

 

INTERGALAKTISCHES VERWIRRSPIEL

Die Pataphysik verhält sich zur Metaphysik
wie die Metaphysik zur Physik.   

Wir wünschen uns gerne klare Antworten auf oft gestellte Fragen, denn viele Dinge verlaufen doch häufig alles andere als logisch oder gar rational.  Auf anderer kosmischer Ebene stoßen wir bei dieser sinnhaften Suche ganz unvermittelt auf die nun  von Physikern postulierte dunkle Energie, die der sagenumwobenen ungelösten Weltenformel zu einem endgültigen Ergebnis verhelfen soll. Einen Gedankenstrang weiter liegt aber dann das nächste  Multiversum mit neuen Naturgesetzen und sich unversehens verästelnden Vorhersehbarkeiten, und unsere Körper verschwinden dabei sofort an einem Nicht-Ort in einem wilden Nebel bioelektrischer Wellen; die multilaterale Lumineszenz verdunkelt alle unsere Sinne.

Dieser galaktische Ozean ist geprägt von scheinbarem Chaos und fraktalen Strukturen, ein endloser Kreislauf von purer Energie. Beginnt hier das wahre pataphysische Reich des legendären Dr. Faustroll? Sehr, sehr wahrscheinlich, denn nun öffnen und schließen sich die Pforten des Weltenraumes wie der Schlund eines gierigen Quanten-Raubtiers, dessen Stränge scheinbar Alles unsichtbar durchdringen, und nur diese geleiten uns langsam zum finalen Puzzlespiel. Hier endlich bildet die vollkommen unverständliche Ausnahme die zu respektierende Regel und genauso umgekehrt, kein sehr schnell verwehter Traum einer schlaflosen Nacht, nur tägliche Routine am Weltenrand.

 

THE VERY BY-GONE SENSATIONS OF OLD WROCLAW / BRESLAU

The Polish author Marek Krejewski has only received most recently the Georg-Dehio-Bookaward 2016. His diverse Breslau crime novels are beyound the normal patterns with the main figure Inspector Mock investigating in the home city of the author, but not in the actual Wroclaw, but in the German Breslau between the two World Wars. Here is an excerpt from one of his books which was also published in English language.

Portrait of Inspector Mock, 1938  © transmutation.me (2016)

All around he heard cries of satisfaction and fierce bargaining. He leaned against the little wall surrounding the fountain in the square and like the Neptune who hovered over it, observed the traders with irony. A fat forester, ruddy with cold and wearing a hat decorated with the emblem of von Maltzan’s Militsch forests, extolled in Silesian German the Advent wreaths he was selling and collected orders for Christmas trees. At a neighbouring stall stood a formidable Silesian woman, her prominent backside wrapped in layers of striped aprons. She was arguing in Polish with her dimunitive husband, who was smiling ingratiatingly at some servant girl and pressing a wicker basket containing a fine-looking goose into her hand. Next to them, a whiskered baker waved his arms and pointed at his spiralling pyramids of pastries snowed over with icing and blackened with poppy seeds. Mock stroked the bottle of schnapps, loitered at the Silesian stall and listened with pleasure to the rustle of the Polish language.”

Marek Krajewski, in: The End of the World in Breslau

DSC_0440Interrogation room of Inspector Mock, 1940  © transmutation.me (2016)