Klaus Hnilica
Thursday August 17th, 2017

“Don Carl“ – or: the Heroic Fight for the Underpants

Carl and Gerlinde (Instalment #52)

Rarely had Carl stepped into his underpants more enthusiastically in recent years. It was this great feeling of ’being embedded’ and ’being protected’ that he enjoyed.

It was a pleasure he made himself aware of several times each day these days – and the feeling was strangely enhanced whenever, during the day, he allowed himself to re-position the private parts hidden therein by discreetly re-arranging his trousers!

Yes – it was “allowed himself to” – not “had to” – as he formerly used to look upon it!

Because ever since, apparently, a movement that originated in Southern Germany – headed by the usual suspects /1/ – had started discrediting men’s underpants – which, incidentally, had been establishing an excellent tradition in the Christian culture over almost three hundred years – with Bavarian relish, Carl had become alarmed for more than one reason!

Yes – it was really a ’shock with an aura’ that found its way to Carl when, on this 13th day of August in 2017, he came upon said IF blog /1/ in the social networks. In this article, the author talked about a world-wide underpants-free future for all men: a world where, from one day to the next, wearing underpants by men was abolished. As a reason, it was stated that, apparently, all chafing, uncomfortable itching, disgusting tickling and virility-threatening clamping between razor-sharp zippers was now ignored, denied or hidden under a ’caftan ’.

A ’caftan’ that allegedly was only invented to give more freedom – that is, freedom for the ’unrestrained dangling of the male privates’ and consequently freedom to enjoy the ’so-called feeling of comfort’ that went along with it!

Of course, this had unimaginable consequences for the body – life – health – morals – society and economy! Not just for Germany and the European Union, but, when all was said and done, also for the entire Christian Occident and thousands of underpants-producing workers.

And was the time really chosen at random?

Had not just a few months ago Putin forbidden all activities around ladies’ underwear for the entire Eurasian Economic Zone, which had had disastrous consequences for TRIGA?

Maybe this was the balance against the male half of creation that was necessary due to gender-equality, after the first hit had devastated the female half of creation?

And was it really totally by accident that this campaign started in Bavaria of all regions? Or was it perhaps part of a long-planned conspiracy by Putin and Seehofer?

But when Carl, a few days ago when they had a meeting to discuss the ’development of new market strategies’ at TRIGA, mentioned these aspects, he was appalled to notice how his colleagues could not have cared less. Bernie – i.e. Dr. Osterkorn –, who was the head of the hosiery sector at TRIGA, in particular, did not seem to understand the impact of this event at all. As often before, he, again, lacked the antennae for trends in fashion and society!

Incidentally, the same was true for Gerlinde during their breakfast in the morning!

She, too, only had a laugh for him …

And – almost sympathetically – called him, Carl, a maniac who, once again, was chasing ghosts. And when Carl reacted offended and left the breakfast table without having drunk all of the morning coffee she always brewed for him with special love and care, she cried after him that she was not going to believe in the threat to occidental culture before Horst Seehofer appeared wearing a ’Caftan’ for the next Political Ash-Wednesday in Vilshofen!

Luckily, Carl knew what needed to be done in such catastrophic situations when everything was in danger of tumbling down: ’nothing’!

Now that was one aspect where, as always, he found himself in the best company with the others …

KH
(Translated by EG)

Carl and Gerlinde (installation #50)

Carl always knew that he would never ever spend a single day, not even a few hours or minutes and seconds vacationing on the Canary Islands – and definitely never on Lanzarote!

After all, what business did he have in this pitch black lava excrement where absolutely nothing reasonable grew, yet where ever new overfed hordes of tourists from Germany and England bent their backs in ecstasy whenever they saw a small green blade of grass making its slow way from the cold magma towards the heavens after no more than two hundred and fifty years. Said blade of grass was certain to speed towards the sun during the next few centuries at a growth rate of at least nine-tenth of a millimetre per decade …

Well, what else was that blade of grass supposed to do, since there was no ground water at all in this holiday resort? And the ah-so-life-giving rain, too, only deigned to fall in minimum amounts on a maximum of eighteen days each year. Which is why even the twenty-five million years old volcanic cones next to the magma deserts also managed no more than a quasi-whispered shimmer of green on the sparse volcano sides. After all, there was no other volcanic region in the whole world where similar masses of tourists have ever experienced fewer drops of rain, and would continue to witness as little rain in the future – as on Lanzarote!

No – it was definitely not a place Carl wanted to see first-hand. Not at all!

His sitting in a Condor machine to Lanzarote with Gerlinde nevertheless was more a blunder than anything else and perhaps exclusively due to the fact that, after the last agonizing forty-three weeks at work, he needed a few days away from the firm and away from Gerlinde’s constant Canary Vacation pestering. Nothing more needed to be said on it! Except that the Iberostar Hotel with a view of the ocean that Gerlinde had booked, at first sight and if you made a few concessions, did not seem to look all that bad, did it?

Mind you, all this ocean in front of your nose tended to get a little boring after no more than five days, regardless of said ocean being really wonderfully blue and showing it, too. The water then again looked grey and grey-blue with white foam crowns and, of course, totally pitch dark at night unless a sliver of moon was mirrored in a strange way therein. But this baroque game of colours still could not contribute towards a drastic change in Carl’s emotionally unbalanced frame of mind, because when all was said and done, it came down to simply being water, water, and again water – instead of a mountainous landscape with glaciers, ravines and aeries. That much remained facts, even if Gerlinde was not prepared to admit it and immediately countered all his grumbling about the ocean with a pout as big as a huge wave.

And as far as this aforementioned ocean was concerned – there was no way you could avoid it on Lanzarote, not even on the endless boardwalk!

No, it was absolutely impossible!

Because if Carl moved from south-west to north-east next to his Gerlinde, he had it on his right side – and vice versa: when he moved from north-east to south-west, it was, naturally, on the left side: the ocean! And whenever he sipped his elaborately served and beautifully warmed brandy ’Carlos I’ in one of the millions of pubs along this boardwalk, it was not to his left or to his right, but, of course, right in front of his nose. And the same was true when he ate his ’shrimps with garlic’. And when he ate pizza with Cortado, it was no different – except if he quickly disappeared to the toilet. There was no other way to avoid the ocean.…

And, naturally, this ever-present ocean was also constantly accompanied by a just as ever-present wind. In fact, more often than not is was quite a storm that raised Carl’s hair to point south-east whenever he had forgotten his baseball cap. In the afternoon, the same wind was camouflaged as tepid ’Calima’ and had come all the way from the one-hundred-and-forty-six kilometres away Africa to direct his no-longer-abundant hair towards the west. Quasi as a free extra, it also filled both his nostrils with the most fine-grain Sahara sand. The same was true for Gerlinde’s golden nostrils.

It goes without saying that the ocean also had a word or two of splashing to contribute when they ate their lunch: the battle was far from won when Carl and Gerlinde, after having waited ninety minutes before a table near the ocean that had then been cleaned by a diligent waiter and set with cutlery and the menu by another before a third one took their order of ’Cervezas’ and the next waiter that of the actual food, finally sat down. After all, the suddenly occurring change of waiters around noon naturally necessitated a totally new ordering process of the desired garlic shrimps and sardines.

But then: so what? After all, Carl and his beloved Gerlinde were on vacation and they had this absolutely heavenly view of a very blue ocean that, even far out on the horizon, never seemed to lose its blueness…

But when, at long last, the ordered Sardines arrived thirty more minutes later, which was considerably after Gerlinde’s sizzling ’garlic shrimps in the pan’, they looked surprisingly good even to Gerlinde’s sceptical Carl. Unfortunately, they also seemed to look good to the not-at-all bashful seagull that sat on the dangerously close boardwalk fence. Said seagull was even quicker to grab his second sardine with its beak than Carl had been to pick up the first one on his fork.

Carl was quite perplexed when he gazed after the bird as it hastily flew out onto the damned ocean with its pickings. Since Garlinde, full of laughter, did the same, he at least managed to alleviate his unfortunate situation by pinching a few of her garlic shrimps unnoticed and accompanying them with some of her Cerveza.

Of course, this fight about food continued in the evening when they sat at dinner: in the dining room, however, it was not the seagulls who emptied the half-empty plates for Carl and Gerlinde but the overeager army of diligent service persons who apparently were paid at piece rate. What else could have caused them to take the plates of their guests away so dextrously that said guests frequently rammed their forks into the table by mistake whenever they tried to pick up the last remnants of meat or baked paprika? And it was quite normal that tables were cleaned and newly laid three times during a single breakfast – and all this while Carl and Gerlinde kept getting new breakfast eggs, small bowls of marmalade, butter, croissants, poppy seed rolls, fried bacon, cans of tea, coffee and orange juice!

It was really bad news – almost as bad as the damned tv program, where, due to the hell of a time shift, Carl missed all news about Donald Trump and Recep Erdogan, and often even the national soccer league and the ’Tatort’ that, after all, for practically all Germans – except Gerlinde – had replaced the church visit when it came to marking a Sunday – which was even worse. …

But the worst of all was this terrible fuss they made about that strange César Manrique’ on Lanzarote!

Apparently, he had lived exclusively in magma bubbles and implemented an entire concert hall for an audience of six hundred into his bubble, along with a discotheque in his subterranean dungeon where, next to the dance floor, white, fingernail-sized, almost blind albino crabs crawled in a totally clear pool of water. Normally, those crabs only existed a thousand metres below in the ocean, but here and now in this pool, they spent all their lives eating the algae that grew there on these few square metres of lava. Mind you, they did it day after day, week after week, year after year in total darkness – what a terrible life this must be, thought Carl, who felt a cold chill go down his spine whenever he thought about it. Compared to such a life, his life with Gerlinde – even here on Lanzarote – was actually a gift of God, wasn’t it?

KH
(Translated by EG)

Carl and Gerlinde (# 49)

Well – it was truly a shock this morning after Carl had beheaded his Sunday morning egg which, for a change, had actually been soft enough inside for spooning out. At the very moment he started eating, Gerlinde said:ZZZZZZZA180843“Carl, I decided to quit smoking as of now!“

As she said this, her face radiated with happiness, regardless of the fact that only a few minutes ago she had been busy in the kitchen without even having washed and made up her face before – which was definitely what she did not really like at all. But then, Carl was so preoccupied with his morning egg that every effort towards looking perfect in the morning would have been a waste of time anyway.

Only when Gerlinde tried her announcement for a second time, introducing her words with a massive hissing and additionally pressing her already empty eggshell on his still uneaten egg, he seemed to wake up and turn towards her.

“Hey, Carly! I am going to stop smoking as of now!“

He glanced at her wordlessly.

“What do you say? Aren’t you glad?“

“Nö.“

“Why not? You have been complaining for gazillions of years that the cigarette smell annoys you?“

“Well, yes”, said Carl, took Gerlinde’s empty egg off his half-eaten one in irritation and continued spooning his egg where he had been interrupted, albeit with less zeal.

“So what now?” Gerlinde was at a loss and working her way towards getting fed up.

“Well, do you know what you are doing? You are upsetting the age statistics I just took a huge effort re-arranging!“

“Is this one of your enigmatic jokes that you love as much as I hate them – or what is the meaning of this, my dear Carl?“

“This is not a joke, my dearest Gerlinde, but we are talking the latest scientific facts I processed while integrating all the corrections “.

“And?“

“Nothing and, Gerlinde! After all, you know quite well that, given our age difference – you are 42 to my 58 – one can easily start wondering “.

“Is that so? All of a sudden?“

“Yes – all of a sudden! But then, perhaps you, too, have been reading the newspapers over the last few days and noticed that, according to the latest retirement statistics, I only have 24 more years to live, while you easily have 44 more years to look forward to, my dear Gerlinde!“

“So where is the problem?“

“The problem is that I, too, want to live another 44 years, just like you!“

“And?“

“And, following the latest New York study, I have been working on a nice plan how to actually achieve that goal …“

“But that is nice, Carl …“

“Well, it is not – because with your latest remark – though not knowingly – you just made this plan totally unrealistic, Gerlinde …“

“My God, how so?“

“Well, in said study, it says that I can live up to five years longer if I eat five walnuts every day”!
“And an extra five years will be added if I kiss you on a regular basis! A glass of wine every evening gains me another 3.8 years and 15 minutes of daily exercise adds 3 years.

Eating five portions of fruit each day gains me another 3 years and indulging in chocolate rather than gummy bears means one more year. Taken together, that gives me almost exactly those twenty years you have on me statistically, my dear Gerlinde …“

“Except the entire concept has one glitch …“

“Yes, if it were not for the fact that I have to kiss you and that, by being thus kissed you would again live five years more than I …“

“I can see that the situation is really bad…“

“Yes, it is grave, but all this could be regulated if, once in a while, I were to kiss our friend Hannelore instead of you …“

“A great idea, because then she, too, will live longer …“

“Yes – and besides, you know, she is not really a bad kisser! But the true catastrophe will start if you really stop smoking. Basically, according to the New York study, this will give you 10 extra years. And since I do not smoke, I have not the slightest chance of growing old alongside you, my dearest Gerlinde. That is just a plain fact!“

And it was also a fact that Gerlinde no longer answered, but instead acted. So Carl suddenly found himself in the middle of an unspeakable confusion of shattered breakfast cutlery, marmalade, butter, coffee and tea under a tablecloth that Gerlinde had thrown at him …

Gerlinde was quite sure that this activity was not conducive to a longer life, but judging by the moaning that came from under the tablecloth, it did not have an immediate life-shortening effect, either – regardless of the advanced years of the pitiful candidate …

KH
(Translated by EG)

Roland Dürre
Sunday April 24th, 2016

Project PEACE – Thursday, April, 28, 2016 – IF Forum

On Thursday (April, 28) at 18:00 hours, yours truly and Jolly Kunjappu will start our project PEACE. We look forward to welcoming our guests.

»Jolly Kunjappu – »Jumbo‘s first birthday. Celebrate your life.« Acryl und Wachskreide auf Leinwand

»Jolly Kunjappu – »Jumbo‘s first birthday. Celebrate your life.«
Acryl and wax crayon on canvas

On this day, we will “let the ideas flow freely”, give impulses and try to inspire “the nice persons” we like so much. We want to stir your desire to question all those things that go without
We want to promote your willingness to constructively work towards the necessary big changes in our society and way of life and in doing so make the initial situation a little better for a future that we can actively be a part of.

Because:
It is more important to act than to talk!
On this evening, Jolly and I want to bring something into motion and then, together with you, develop ideas as well as think about what we could do.
🙂  (Perhaps initiate a snowball system for peace and transformation?)

This is how we want to learn from our friends. We want to win insight and work towards our own enlightenment 2.0.
🙂  Indoctrination and religious wars are things we neither like nor wish to practice, because we are not missionaries!

Basically, PEACE is simply our central metaphor for a necessary change, because peace has a three-fold impact: on every one of us personally; in our connections with the world we live in and consequently our environment; and, of course, also in our relations between individuals and collectively between nations and all kinds of societies of our wonderful world.

And without PEACE, a happy and content life is not imaginable.

For me personally, the project PEACE is extremely important. As of now, it has highest priority. It is to become the last big project of my life, which is why, in years to come, I want it to become my central topic. In order to make this happen, it is important for me to have the support of you all, my friends.

But regardless: first and foremost, we want Thursday evening to be a meeting of aforesaid “friendly persons” of our world who meet with great JOY and give us lots of courage and trust! Jolly und I are sure that, together with you, we will manage to do just that. And there will also be a few surprises…

Here is a link where you will find three IF blog articles on the topic, including the invitation the event. I would kindly ask you to tell me if you come, because we want to have enough food and beverages. Feel free to either register through a blog comment or send E-Mail to the InterFace AG or to me.

RMD
(Translated by EG)

Roland Dürre
Thursday December 31st, 2015

My Sylvester Wishes are Different!

 

Dear Friends!

Best Wishes for 2016!

 


 

Das Bild ist von Rolo Zollner (http://www.rolozollner.de/). Es steht unter Common Licence, Ihr dürft es mit Quellen-/Autorenangabe frei nutzen.


May this pig bring you lots of luck!

Have a good start!

Enjoy the day!

Let your hair down big time!

Treat yourself to whatever you do not normally treat yourself!

Annoy your neighbours to your heart’s desire!

But love and respect them all regardless!

Enjoy the world and honour creation!

Be free!

Live with gusto!

Do whatever you want to do!
Give thought of yourself, but then also to others!

In six words and two sentences::

Enjoy life!
and
Be totally happy!

And I mean a hundred percent and especially 
every single day and every single night of 2016!


And do not forget:

“Shit on “must”!“

RMD
(Translated by EG)

P.S.
Both the picture and motive are from my friend Rolo Zollner. He created it for IF Blog. It is under common licence. Consequently, you may use it if you give the source and author.

Roland Dürre
Saturday May 9th, 2015

The Merry Month of May.

Train conversations.

ICE_3_Oberhaider-Wald-TunnelThe day before yesterday (May, 6th), I sit at a table of the ICE 516 on my way to Stuttgart. From Munich, two unknown ladies “of indeterminate age” sit opposite me.

To me, it looks like these two are quite intelligent. They are on their way to Frankfurt. Starting from there, they want to share a vacation. They are very talkative and I learn a lot about their lives that might actually be quite interesting to relate here. Since some of the material was actually quite private, I will, however, refrain from doing so.

When we reach the Geislinger Steige, the two ladies switch to another topic of conversation. Ever so enthusiastically, they look out of the window and then they seem to compete finding admiring comments on the lush greens they see. They get intoxicated. Using boisterous exclamations, they wind each other up more and more. I actually get worried that they might soon end up in ecstasy (Ekstase).

And then there is the one sentence I hear often and that always annoys me. One of them says something like: “you could not really enjoy this wonderful time of year if you had not experienced the bare and cold winter before”.

And her friend immediately joins in, emphasizing the point – which to me seems a little stupid – by saying that: “This is exactly how she, too, felt about it and that it would not be possible for her to truly and intensely enjoy the summer if there were not the long and ever so bleak winter”.

Initially, I was going to ask the two ladies if they had “ever been near the equator, where the cradle of man had stood”.

But then I come up with the following:

“Dear ladies, please allow me to find fault with your opinions – which I had to listen to, even though they do not interest me at all.

Let me use the following metaphor to illustrate my counter-argument against your thesis. Let us assume you are married. And let us assume you have a husband who beats you six months each year and then carries you on his hands to the ends of the world during the next six months.

Would you then also say how much you appreciate the six months of beatings, because they alone make you appreciate the other six months of a relationship in harmony?”

Before I actually started saying this, I changed my mind. My incentive to beat those two because of their continuing talking was not so unsurmountable, after all. Besides, I was in a good mood, because I was on my way to the PM Camp.

Dürre_Roland🙂 Yet I would like to wish the two ladies who, in the ICE 516 from Munich to Stuttgart on this sixth of May, wanted to tell me (elderly gentleman wearing black polo-shirt and potbelly) about their lives, a nice vacation. I am sending these wishes from the ICE 515 on my way back to Munich! Basically, they were quite nice, just a little wound-up.

(written on my way back from the #PMCampSTR, again in a very good mood because it was, again, a truly beautiful barcamp).

RMD
(Translated by EG)

P.S.
I took the picture from Wikipedia. It is by Sebastian I Terfloth User:Sese_Ingolstadt – Own work, licenced underCC BY-SA 3.0.

Roland Dürre
Friday April 10th, 2015

What is Existence? What is a Human Being, What Am I?

And what about when I am dead?

🙂 ”To be – or not to be!“

That is not only a basic philosophical question, but also a wonderful song byPigor, in which he really goes on in Heidegger fashion.

Pigor is one of my favourite cabaret performers. In an inimitable way, he makes topics of everyday life and even of philosophy into very special songs. Those songs may be sweet-and-sour or bitter, but they are always humorous.

The question asked by the philosophers about the human existence is one thing. But I am not a philosopher. Yet I actually think about the question: “What is a human being?” and in particular “What am I?”, or, even more to the point: “What remains after my death?”. So what will happen when, in the sense of our civil law, the “natural person” of Roland Dürre will cease to exist?

And over the decades, I found an answer (for myself). Currently, it would read like this:

If you simplify it, I consist of four modules. You could actually make a beautiful axis of coordinates out of them. The four quadrants are my body, my soul, my property and the things I experienced and accomplished.

In this axis of coordinates, my body and my property are material, clearly defined items. After my death, they will initially be what is left of me. My soul, on the other hand, is the sum of all the things I experienced, lived through, learned, as well as my “accomplishments” in life and perhaps even after my death. Those are the immaterial things I cannot easily define.

And, of course, more questions arise. So let us start and analyse the four modules!

My body.

Let me start with my mortal shell – my body. Actually, I am pretty sure that, by now, I do not care what happens with my body after I am dead. Basically, it does not matter if it (me?) is cremated, inhumed, frozen or used for scientific purposes. I would probably advise my heirs to bury me anonymously, because then they will not have unnecessary stress (grave maintenance, etc.) with me.

When I was young, I would have said I wish my ashes to be sprinkled somewhere where I used to be happy (like on a soccer field, in a forest or in some other nice area I rode through on my bike). Today, this is no longer so important for me.

My property.

During all my life, I was rather lucky. Among other things, I managed to accumulate some riches. If you define property according to common regulations, I own shares (of InterFace AG), some realty and a little money. To be more precise: a small virtual fortune at a “bank”. That is a true delight for me. But then, there are two sides to everything in life. Consequently, there is now some kind of morals or super-ego that thinks I should draw up a will. But I hate planning and forcing others to do what I want. After all, it is hard enough to think for myself, so why should I think for others, as well?

Consequently, my only recommendation for my heirs is that they should, first and foremost, enjoy the addition to their own property due to my demise and then they should agree upon how to further distribute my small fortune peacefully. And I am quite confident, because that is exactly what I trust my wife and children will be able to do quite well.

So the question of my property is also solved. Now it starts getting more complicated. Let us start with my soul.

My soul.

This is where my – rather natural – incompetence starts: I do not even know if I have a soul! In fact, I cannot even say if such a thing as a soul exists. What is worse: even if I knew that I have a soul, I would not know how to define it! On the other hand, I cannot deny that in some superior context – which, according to my concept, I will never understand – something like a soul might exist. Fortunately, my friend Klaus-Jürgen Grün taught me that fear is something that only happens between the ears. Consequently, I am not afraid that my soul might someday end up rotting in hell.

For me, the topic “soul” is simply unfathomable. So I will put it aside. But then, what about the fourth quadrant? The one with my experiences and adventures, my knowledge and in particular my achievements or the effect I have had on others?

What I accomplished and experienced.

I am sure this is, again, something immaterial. During my long life, I met many persons. Some of them were nearer to me, others more remote. With some of them, I shared only a short segment of my life, with others, I went a long distance. Sometimes the time was intense, sometimes less so. There are quite a few people with whom I feel closely connected.

On the whole, all I can hope for is that I was more constructive than destructive and that there will therefore be a positive balance. That would be nice and I would find it quite sufficient.

Yet, there is also something quasi-material about all of this. That is what I wrote. And when I wrote, the same was true as in other dimensions of my life: I was rather the “expansive” type. For instance, I wrote down many of my emotions here in the IF Blog.

Which brings me to the last exciting question of this article:

What is to happen with the IF Blog?

Naturally, when I am dead, I cannot do anything for the blog. But I could give my heirs a recommendation. Should they terminate the IF Blog? Or should they continue with it?

🙂

RMD
(Translated by EG)

Klaus Hnilica
Thursday February 26th, 2015

Fateful Siesta

Carl and Gerlinde (XLI)

ZZZVimg171Why had it had to happen at this of all occasions? Why when Carl had, at long last, taken his Gerlinde along to the lingerie and underwear fair “Five Elements”? And it was certainly no surprise that, afterwards, Gerlinde was not only disappointed, but also angry!

God, how often had she tried to persuade Carl to take her along when he went to this famous underwear fair where he organized the most bizarre exhibitions with the most crazy ideas and other shebang for TRIGA every year. And where, smiling practically at the push of a button, he always ran up to form like a yeast doughnut in hot oil between those hysterical, cold, long-legged underwear dolls.

On the other hand, you had to admit that this really outrageous thing would never have happened if Gerlinde had not been there. Because without her, he would never have siesta-ed and consequently would never have been confronted with this more than strange situation. A situation that might well have been instigated by the competition. Or by the NSA? Or the KGB? Well, you never know, you know!

But well, all those ’if’–s and ’then’–s were not going to do any good now when the ’stable door had been locked after the horse had bolted’, were they? Of course, the ’horse’ was meant in a purely metaphorical way, since there was no horse involved.

On the contrary. In fact, this entire unparalleled scandal in the famous Berlin Four-Star Hotel during the 11th Fashion Week was all about how to best prevent the activity that could cause ’possible birth’- albeit of a child, rather than a horse.

Mind you, this ’possible conception’ was, of course, only of virtual nature, since Gerlinde – thank God – was far beyond the age where such an aspect could possibly mutate into an unwelcome real surprise.

Yet there had definitely been more than enough demand on this late morning for the kinaesthetics and exchange of fluids usually preceding such a procreation process on both sides. Absolutely! And one had also seen it as the ideal prelude for the siesta urgently desired by Gerlinde on this second day of the lingerie and underwear fashion show. After all, the evening reception given to entertain the international and national customers on the previous day had lasted until early this morning, bringing with it many delicacies on the rich buffet which were consumed along with costly alcoholic beverages. The lively organiser Carl and his charming company Gerlinde had definitely partaken …

Consequently, a few quiet minutes – or even a quarter of an hour – definitely seemed like a tempting idea to both of them around noon.

And Gerlinde would not have been Gerlinde if she had not only immediately succumbed to this temptation without reservations, but also enriched them in no time by practicing a few rather exquisite fantasies every equestrienne would have been proud of. 
It seems like the dressage numbers displayed actually demanded absolute concentration from both horse and rider.

How else could you understand that neither of them noticed how suddenly, not at all far away from the ’king-size bed display parcours’, a young inconspicuous hotel employee – so it seemed – not only watched the exciting dressage artistry with a bowed upper body, a red face and fascination, but also worked most enthusiastically on his iPhone …

It seems that, somehow, Carl must have spied a shadow from the corner of his right eye, because there was an involuntary movement of his head to the right, but only so slightly that the equestrienne who was working with a lot of concentration was not distracted in any way.

And suddenly what he saw was a pair of nosy eyes over a good-natured smiling mouth. Actually, the full head of blond hair of this young gentleman sitting above a youthful, not at all fearsome face like a little crown even added another air of normality to the entire scene.

When the young man, totally fearlessly, put his right index finger to his lips in order to signal Carl to – please – please – remain entirely quiet in order not to destroy this wonderful scene by an inconsiderate move, this, too, fit perfectly into the image …

In retrospect, Carl was almost ashamed about having offered no resistance at all to the directions of the strange young man and instead having permitted Gerlinde to finish the last step of her supernatural dressage! But then, there was not really an alternative for him in this breath-taking moment, was there? Everything was such a matter of course in this harmonic procedure that he lacked not only all concept of terminating it, but also the strength to do so!

And Gerlinde’s cathartic yell of joy shortly afterwards also proved he had been right! It had been an eternity since he had last heard such a joyous outcry over several thirds that seemed like it never wanted to end, accompanied by a cascade of gurgling sounds in between! In fact, perhaps he had never ever heard it in exactly this way?

The same was obviously true for the unknown young gentleman who seemed to be sponging up everything with sparkling eyes and a face that showed the highest degree of rapture. Immediately afterwards, he disappeared just as noiselessly as he had come…

With a slight degree of surprise, Gerlinde – still breathless – registered that Carl suddenly lifted himself up from the ’shared show-riding course’ and hurried to the door, locking it with the words: it is not secured! Shortly afterwards, however, purring like a cat, she fell back into a deep, refreshing sleep in Carl’s arms. …

Only later – unfortunately before Carl – did she discover the inconspicuous warning written on yellow folio-format paper on the table: 
In case you are toying with the absurd idea of informing the hotel management, this little equestrian episode will be available on You Tube within a few minutes.

This was the time when Carl, to his huge regret, had to confront Gerlinde with the unwelcome truth – and thus make the “Five Elements” fair something she would never remember fondly. 
Basically, it was a pity, because the rest of the week, too, had been rather glorious: the underwear sector of TRIGA, which had just recently suffered serious problems, seemed to have really recovered…

KH
(Translated by EG)

Klaus Hnilica
Tuesday January 27th, 2015

Cardiac Fibrillation…

Carl and Gerlinde (XXXIX)

A sleepless night, a burning breast ache, a tottering heart and Dr. Riffelmann’s diagnosis sufficed to convince Carl that, just maybe, it is a good idea to join Hannelore and Gerlinde two weeks later when they went to their stupid ’ladies course’…

ZZYVoimg162But Gerlinde had been right! He had to take things easier to prevent that ship – no, his ship – from either leaving or leaving him behind!

“This auricular fibrillation episode was an alarm signal and should be taken very seriously”, Dr. Riffelmann had said without his otherwise usual smile. Carl was lucky to be only in his mid-fifties and justs have a slightly high blood pressure: a mere beta blocker was enough to bring the ’hearty tantrum’ back to normal. No need yet for anticoagulants…

”But you want to be careful: matters might worsen sooner than Carl might be prepared to acknowledge”, Dr. Riffenmann said with just a hint of a smile. In order to prevent that from happening, Carl would have to immediately start a routine exercise program, drink only a minimum of alcohol and reduce his daily stress considerably!

When he heard the words ’reduce stress’, Carl suddenly found himself in a smiling contest with Dr. Riffelmann! How was he supposed to manage that, with the avalanche of problems on the international knitwear market?

But then, maybe he could snatch away the job red-faced Fritz Kuhlmann was now holding as porter at the company and offer him his knitwear salesperson position along with the cardiac fibrillation in return? And maybe his boss, ’Little Eastercorn’ would – for a change – offer some constructive help, rather than just talking? And maybe so would the works committee?

”Well, you know you do not have to throw the baby out with the bath water”, Dr. All-Smiles suggested, “most importantly, you have to learn how to better deal with stress! And how to reduce it? Meaning not by drinking more beer and Whysky in the evening and instead exercising daily and applying a special relaxing routine!”
”Relaxing routine?“

”Yes – there are excellent courses you can take to learn this kind of thing”, Dr. Riffelmann was quite enthusiastic.

“I am sure you are not suggesting relaxing routines from the wonderful kingdom of Chakras and singing bowls where energy-charged rubber dragons make all tension inside me disappear for 125 Euro, do you?”,

Carl moaned as loud as if someone had just drilled on one of his nerves.

”No – I certainly would not advise you to start Yoga Vidja; I know you well enough. But how about common Autogenous Training?“

Carl rolled his eyes and mumbled something incomprehensible.

“Yes! Why won’t you try and give relieving stress through ’AT ’ a totally unbiased chance?“

”Well, Dr. Riffelmann, the reason is that next time I see you I will not simply have a cardiac fibrillation.

Instead, you can be dead sure that I will return as a homicidal maniac: because if my right arm is supposed to become heavy and my left leg is supposed to start burning, I am going to go nuts!” Carl’s face had turned scarlet and a new fibrillation attack was underway when he grunted his reply. …

“And what would be so bad about that? I do not mean the homicidal maniac part but the heavy right arm and the warm left leg! You would not believe how relaxing it can be and what a stabilizing effect it has on your heartbeat, as well..…“

“Sorry, Dr.Riffelmann. With me, this ’AT ’, as you call it, can have only two mutually exclusive effects: I will either become as aggressive as a starving varan! Or else I will immediately fall into a comatose-like sleep.…“
“Well – you know, actually, the latter would not be a bad idea! With the exception of having to transport you home, which might be a little complicated. But then, maybe there is a nice person you can think of who could help with that?”, Dr. Riffelmann said with a grin that said relish.

In fact, the sun-tanned smile of before had been more comfortable, Carl thought when he collected the recipe for his beta-blockers from the doctor’s assistant.

So much more surprising was his about-face!

Or was that not what it was, after all? Was it again one of the usual Gerlinde-style Manipulations? After all, she knew exactly how to pull the nose ring of her run-down bull Carl in order to make sure he landed on the path she wanted him to land on …

Well – it took exactly two – more poorly than well-slept-through – nights before Carl informed Gerlinde during breakfast after a two-minute coughing attack caused by a piece of French Baguette he had spread finger-thick with apricot jam as usual that this strange Dr. Riffelmann whom she had at the time recommended to him had not been able to tell him anything better than that it might be a good idea to, quasi as an additional preventive measure on top of the beta blockers against his cardiac fibrillation, enrol in an AT course for stress reduction. Although he of all people should have known how much Carl hated all kinds of esoteric knick-knack.

”So why don’t you come and join Hannelore and me”, Gerlinde said, sounding no different than if Carl had asked for a second egg for breakfast.

”What? – How? – Where? You want me to take part in your ladies’ course”?

”Why not?“

“Is there any man in the course at all?“

“Certainly.“

“I mean one who is not gay?“

”My God, how should I know about that “!

“Hm!“

“Yes…“

“And who is in charge of the course?“

“Well, that is Severin?“

“What! A man?“

“A sports student!“

“And is he gay?“

“I would say: certainly not”, Gerlinde whispered with a dirty smile.

“Why are you so positive?“

“Just because I know – and Hannelore also confirmed …“

“What is that supposed to mean?“

“Well, that she, too, is quite certain …“

“Phew – am I in the wrong film here!“

“Why would you think that?“

“Well, seeing as your eyes turn all glazy as soon as you mention the sports student…“

“Why don’t you come and take a look at Severin yourself …“

“Is that possible?“

“All is possible if I speak with him …“

“This gets stranger and stranger”, Carl moaned before getting on his way to his office without another word. Somehow or other he had the feeling that the next attack of cardiac fibrillation was soon going to be upon him unless he saw to it that the distance between him and his Gerlinde quickly became as far as possible.

And on Saturday morning, Carl actually trotted along when Gerlinde left home to attend this strange AT course!

“Well, I guess it will not do any harm – although I am sure it will not do much good, either”, he fizzled with an embarrassed smiley on his face when he spontaneously joined her in the car.

Well – and Gerlinde was wondering if the best time to tell him that Severin was currently, but basically had all the time been replaced by Uschi Müller would be on the way there or later …

KH
(Translated by EG)

Klaus Hnilica
Thursday December 11th, 2014

What Happened to Germany? – Has it Really Gone to Sleep?

Carl and Gerlinde (XXXVIII)

Looking at his crumpled visage in the bathroom mirror, Carl initially spent some time wondering if he should instantly slap himself or wait until after breakfast! But then, you could not do it on an empty stomach, could you? Those worn-out corners of the mouth and this mildew tongue were just too disgusting! Besides, he feared that he might actually throw up any moment. Was it the stomach? Or was it the Halloween-mask?

The hot shower brought salvation!

Feeling the water glide over his head, back and bottom was like a life-spending electric impulse. When the chest, the stomach and the lifeless worm were also treated to some warm rain, Carls wobbly cerebrum, too, developed new momentum. In fact, even a few memories started finding their way through the alcohol-soaked synapses. The acute headache was also suddenly gone. After all, the one-and-a-half litres of Pinot Grigio in his blood system and liver had to find a way out of the body through perspiration, didn’t they? And the same was true for yesterday’s verbal tirades from Dr. Osterkorn alias Bernie and Miriam…

Admittedly, the ’wine-induced exchange of ideas’ of yesterday evening at Bernie’s favourite Italian restaurant had not come totally unexpectedly for Carl: after the disastrous collapse of sales numbers caused by the ’Russian Beating’, it had, naturally, been totally foreseeable that the sector leaders of TRIGA would have to fire rapidly and loudly.

Carl vaguely remembered that Bernie had said something more or less to that tune while carefully lathering his smelly armpits – phew! – it was really high time…
Basically, you had to admit that Bernie, too, was only someone driven by circumstances! The same was true for the directors and the concern management: they all had to achieve the planned profit margins. Without profit – no premium! Neither for the directors, nor for Bernie and his sector sales head Carl. Let alone Miriam, the person responsible for underwear.

You know what – what we need is a completely new narrative for our underwear, Bernie had then spontaneously thrown in while toasting Miriam and looking like a young bull – upon which she only sceptically raised her eyebrows. Yes – we badly need a truly revolutionary idea in order to tell the story of our slips, tops and bras in a totally new way and convince our customers narratively! Well, and perhaps the tops might again reach the navel in the next few years. And the ladies’ knickers might actually again be knickers, instead of only covering the pubic hair and being bottom cheek dividers?

When this fragment of memory made its way through his brain while he was lathering his bottom and with horror imagining thong slips for men, Carl had to laugh so hard that his injured body shook vehemently enough to cause the showering water – what shock – to noisily splash against the showering cabin …

Well, maybe Putin was right after all, Bernie had said aloud in his monologue, when he started keeping the Russian ladies away from these ’knickers fragments” this summer and instead in a future-oriented way pointing them back towards knickers that actually deserved the name. Who can blame him for, in the same process, re-adjusting the scale of values for the ’New Russia’? After all, great, proud Russia can never be permitted to sink as low as the decadent West and pay homage to ideals the top incarnation of which is the embodiment of a ’Conchita Wurst’! Well, this is totally comprehensible, isn’t it?

And how do you propose we do this, my dear Bernie? Miriam suddenly became poisonous: are we now supposed to run around in underpants that reach up to the neck and hide underneath the cashmere caftan? Well, good luck to you, you who understand Putin. I am sure you only want us back in the nineteenth century in order to retrieve the Russian business! If that is so, let me know long enough in advance. I will be gone faster than you can say ’Indiana Jones’!

Carl, who by now had lathered himself down to the toes, had been rather surprised to see how spiritedly Miriam had snapped at her Bernie. That had really been good to see. In fact, it deserved an extra-strong massage spurt on his back and loins! Heavenly – true bliss. …

What lucky stroke that the meal had followed instantly, otherwise Miriam and Bernie would have started a really biting verbal duel. As it was, Bernie was able to bite into his roast lamb and Miriam to nibble on her baked gilthead seabream while he loaded himself hastily with his lamb goulash in lemon sauce. Actually, while doing so, he was forced to keep his mouth closed.

Since, apparently, Bernie was a stranger to such manners and kept talking with his mouth full, he allowed Carl and Miriam to participate in his tender roast lamb by spreading it on the tablecloth in small portions. On the other hand, this enabled him to seamlessly move from Putin to Merkel. From the latter, he repeatedly demanded a narrative for Germany similar to the one Putin had delivered for the ’New Russia’!

But I am sure, Miriam, also seamlessly continued in her acerbic tone while making short and expert shrift of her own gilthead seabream, Bernie, that you will not now demand the model of a radical ’underwear about-face’ from ’Mama Merkel’ after her ’Energy About-Face’, will you?

Of course not, Bernie munched, but ’Our Angela’ would be well advised to surprise the German People with a nice and usable ’narrative for Germany’, instead of permanently singing us a lullaby of empty words! We would certainly benefit from being more concerned with the rest of the world, instead of constantly agonizing under our own fears! Only ’German Angst’ is a little thin, isn’t it, Carl?

Indeed, that was something Carl, still showering, absolutely agreed with, before finally turning off this immensely satisfying massage spurt. Incidentally, after the water massage, you had to do some ’Cold Showering’! And in order to do that, you needed at least the same degree of discipline as for the development of a narrative for Germany…

But, lo and behold: it had not been possible to hold back Little Osterkorn. After Miriam’s reprimands and the roast lamb, he not only craved after an instant Titamisu, but simultaneously came along with narrative ideas. Or had it been Miriam? She thought that, in a new narrative for Germany, we should not only keep repeating the Second World-War, the Rebuilding and the Holocaust like a mantra. Also, we should not limit ourselves to talking about the East-West division and Europe, but additionally point out that Germany had lately turned into a very coveted immigration country. Neither should we forget to mention the fact that, for example, during the last two soccer world championships, it even was suddenly considered hip, multi-culti, joyous and colourful!

Well, this was the moment when Carl had had enough of the ’Cold Shower’! Shivering with cold, he jumped out of the shower cabin, rubbed himself with the beach towel moaning noisily and absolutely did not want to be reminded that he – perhaps he had already been a little tipsy at the time – had stubbornly wished to include the ’energy about-face’ into the new Germany Narrative after Miriam’s wise outline. His tongue had grown heavy when he insisted that such a procedure would actually practically by itself cause a fundamental change in paradigm for the underwear business: after all, warm underwear would inevitable also reduce the heating, which then would also affect the CO2 emission! Wasn’t this clear as can be?

And based on these facts, Frau Merkel would – through the warm underwear as massively subsidized by the government – probably easily be able to counter all sceptics with total serenity in her typical lack of precision that the country of the ’poets and isolators’ will actually fulfil its very ambitious climate promise made to the European Community! In fact, we might even end up far beyond those promises, providing the Great Coalition were – in violation of the coalition contract – to decide that now ’thermo underwear’ is to be subsidized as massively as insulation of buildings, as suggested by Herrn Siegmar Gabriel. Naturally, all these measures would have to leave the “black zero” as propagated by Herrn Schäuble untouched, which is something that, even if having no influence on the world climate, would be immensely detrimental to the CDU – which was the only thing that counted! If Frau Merkel never said this in Carl’s mental concept, it was still what she believed.

It must have been shortly after this that his personal memory broke down, because he does not remember Bernie’s loud rejoicing. And Gerlinde alone knew how he had returned home. She, however, did not wish to see him this morning, which in itself was a little strange, wasn’t it?

KH
(Translated by EG)