I am very sad because another kind of war returned yesterday to Breitscheidplatz in Berlin, my home-town. Whoever is responsible for this crucial bloody incident, did not only attack a peaceful Christmas market but also a place of memorial as a whole reminding us everyday with the wellknown monument of Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church (a ruin from WW II) to the unnumerable victims of war and aggression.
At least 12 people were killed and dozens of others severely injured yesterday, an undescribably chock situation. But we may not follow the violent logic of such horrific offenders armed with 25t-lorries or populist interpretations of the same, instead much more has to be done to achieve peace and freedom everywhere on earth. Today, we should not only commemorate of the people killed yesterday here in Berlin, but also of the uncountable innocent civilian victims of actual global warfares which often get no attention at all.
WILL THIS ABYSS BECOME REALITY TODAY IN AUSTRIA?
A courageous message by Nada Elfeituri from Benghazi / Libya about the situation in her hometown in the Eastern part of Liba, a country struck by a forgotten civil war and torn into pieces between different tribes, local warlords and the utterly ruthless threat of IS: Till today there are two governments in Tripoli and Tobruk, but both of them are not capable to establish peace again. Allthough the situation is very difficult and crucial you will find normally only very few refugees from Libya in Europe because Libyan people have great pride as children of the great desert there in Northern Africa.
This is how I remember it: There were missiles coming down, and it was pitch black. It wasn’t the missiles that scared us, we were used to them. It was the darkness, mostly, not being able to see what happened if something did hit the house. It was also the emptiness, knowing that most of the neighbours had already left, that there would be no one to call out for help. The morbid anticipation of what could happen was one of the worst parts of the war.
We packed in the dark, consoling our fears with the plan that we’d leave at sun-up, that we couldn’t stay anymore. We had no idea where we would go and we didn’t care. We just had to go.
One thing I vividly remember is that we didn’t lock the doors of the rooms. My dad said, “If we lock them, they’ll break the doors down to…
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I just had a dream in which I visualized the new high wall at the border between the U.S.A. and Mexico which had been invented, forced and erected by the U.S.-American president Donald Trump till its finalization in early 2020. But here on the picture you can clearly observe that this postmodern protection line is not at all impenetrable while the focussed revenge-ghost of Montezuma – as a herald of the coming invisible invasion of a new eon – had really no problem to pierce through the bricks and crossed the border shortly after midnight on his further way to his final destination Washington D.C.
The ghost has a clear mission-impossible to be fulfilled ending in a short lesson of old history to the U.S.-president about the Roman Limes, the Great Chinese Wall and much other fences which could never really protect its constructors and were then quickly flushed away again by the eternal waves of history. But Donald even worse for your ego: in the future thereafter nobody will ever remember this ruthless borderline-personality-disorder-wall of shame in the wasteland of the 21st century. Mission completed in the hall of fame.
“Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.”
W. H. Auden
Is this really the rotten one-way road to the final Battle of Aleppo as predicted by the famous visionary Nostradamus? The burst bitumen crust opens the horizon to a presumably never ending no-man’s-land where dark water is flooding everywhere over pavements and former roads while emphatic barricades turn out to be the only guiding signs leading through this Levantine forbidden zone. Some idiotic good-for-nothing fighters must have bombed and destroyed the gigantic Tabqua dam subsequently depleting the inexhaustible water storage reservoir of Lake Assad into this new endless stretching marshy swampland. Here and there you can intensely observe ludicrous ruins and industrial facilities slowly sinking in greedy dark ponds – the latest ecological niche. Bloody water suddenly sucks in my highly stressed body like a maelstrom, thus I have to make up my mind so as to escape ultimately this wargame-zeitgeist. Eons later I will eventually reach exhausted but just in time the untold concrete-island of hope and its graceful bastion of dreamy virtual promises.
© transmutation.me (2016)