Cultural Memory

“Wir sind zu Ihnen gekommen, um Ihnen mitzuteilen, dass heute Ihre Ausreise…”

"...das tritt nach meiner Kenntnis...ist das sofort, err... unverzüglich."

There are a few sentences, a few pictures, that are so ingrained in the brain that you'd probably remember them even after a concentrated gamma ray burst, applied directly to your forehead.
There are probably international, and national versions of cultural memory. First off, some international ones that should be known all over the world, assuming you do have a TV. (which means, about 4 billion people are excused, as well as some Amish).

Run, Kim Phuc, Run

By the end of this decade

Road Blocker

Convention? Bah, Geneva, Shmeveva

...And Y'all Knew This One Was Coming, Too.
Jesus Fuckin' Christ, indeed.

One of my exactly two readers: "Baaah. History. That's so fuckin' boring. Tell us funny stories, Teshik, if I was interested in old stuff, I wouldn't be skipping school right now."
Teshik: (socks him/her in the face) Then don't read my friggin' blog, loser.

Then, there's stuff I presume every American will surely recognize:

The Turtle's always right
The cheery "deedle-dum-dum" music is especially surreal giving the context.

Do Solemny Swear
...and the...errr...kind of graphic footage that comes just a few hours before, of course.

And You Think YOU Hate Going To School

If you look at German cultural memory, there are two very prominent themes. One of them regards history before 1945, and for obvious reasons, they are making us feel very queasy, embarrassed and vaguely guilty even though almost all people responsible have been dead for decades.
It's really hard to describe this collective feeling of awkwardness. Imagine a person who, at the local sports stadium during a major event where he was supposed to sing the national anthem. But instead of singing, he dropped down his pants, urinated over the guests of honor in the front row, threw feces at the athletes, and proceeded to run around naked screaming about how much he likes to fuck children.
NOW imagine you're the father or mother of said person, and EACH and EVERYONE in the stadium knows that. No one could directly hold you responsible for that horrible incident, buuuut....
And now you know why Germans still have major issues with their own self-image - and why they probably won't get a permanent seat in the UN security council, even though we...err, definitely know the importance of getting the right singer for the anthem, metaphorically speaking.

The other major part of German cultural memory is directly linked to the aftermath of that unfortunate incident. To stay in the increasingly strained metaphor, after the anthem singer was taken into custody, the policemen disagreed what to do with them: put him into an asylum for rehabilitation, or let him rot in prison as a punishment? In the end, they settled on simply doing both. Oh, and spend the next decades arguing about which way is better.

And so, since Germans really, really didn't want to think of the incident, they concentrated on the bullshit their wardens came up with. Which, let's face it, even though they saved our ass from the stadium mob, became more and more retarded. As in, everyone just carry around big huge-ass bombs, just in case the other warden had a cranky day. Hell, let's even put bombs in the prison cells of the Germans, and other inmates! Because giving people who are considered justifiable insane by all participants, REALLY should have bombs available!
The German singer didn't protest (much). From his perspective of things, he just woke up with a massive hangover, and suspects he might have done something he really, really regrets - and now he realizes: both of his wardens are batshit insane. Or would you say that the theory "he won't attack me, because then we'll ALL die in flames & fire, even the innocent bystanders" really is a surefire way to all-over SECURITY?

Okay, we can't blame everything on Soviets or Americans (Although we really really like to sometimes. Having someone to hate simply makes life easier, I guess). In fact, one of the biggest lies every German knows comes from one of our own, former-Soviet-marionette Number One Walter Ulbricht:
"Niemand hat die Absicht eine Mauer zu errichten." and I already told a nice little fairy-tale without happy end about that one. But I didn't include the pictures. Photos can be found here. (the second one is the one generally better known.)
Iconic pictures also include this one here, this should also be known across our borders, since it's one of the most iconic in the whole Cold War issue. Another film clip everyone over the age of 25 knows is of the woman escaping East Berlin by jumping out of a building:
(she appears around 3:15, I couldn't find a shorter one with the scene in it)

Eight years prior to the building of the Berlin Wall, these scenes had happened.
One thing that always strikes me as incredible is the part where the people start throwing rocks, even though their opponents have fucking tanks, which can turn you into human mincemeat in about five seconds. (This also goes for the unknown chinese guy above)

Another important picture is of former Bundeskanzler Willy Brandt, kneeling. Why is this one important? Well, this answer's complex. First of all, let's look at this map.
I kinda did lie when I said Germany was divided in two, because, see, actually, there are four sections: West Germany, East Germany, Western Poland, and a little bit of Soviet Union. Western Poland fell to Poland after the War because
1) Germany had to be punished (fair enough),
2) Poland had lost its own eastern part to the Soviets just a few years back, and
3) the Soviets ain't giving anything back, nuh-uh!
So, a shitload of Soviets were carted over into Ex-Poland, and a shitload of Germans in turn were carted into rest-Germany. The refugees wanted their stuff back, however. So acknowledging that Poland finally could hold on to their national territory for a few decades, would make many people - voters - unhappy. Especially since over there, they're bad bad communists.

Plus, the even bigger issue here, which I have been tiptoeing around for half the post (in typical German manner, I might add): How does one apologize for inciting two world wars, and the systematized mass murder of millions of people? Especially considering
a) you, as a person, are innocent,
b) the people who are totally guilty are either dead, or hiding in Argentina etc.,
c) you, as a chancellor, represent millions of people who kinda were guilty, in aiding and abedding the bad guys, but shit, even admitting that to themselves would require years of psychotherapy each?

Well, Mr. Brandts answer was way, way less verbose than mine. To wit:
http://www.topfoto.co.uk/gallery/Germany1963_1988/ppages/ppage21.html
Not perfect, but this was impossible from the beginning.

Now, before I depress you into tears, let's lighten the mood at least a little. For example, does anyone recognize this guy on the right? Hint: Twenty years prior, he threw rocks at policemen for not being communist and hippie enough. Twenty years after this picture, he retired from his post as German foreign minister and vice chancellor. Besides causing uproar by appearing at a formal oath in sneakers, he also got popular with the sentence: "Mit Verlaub, Herr Präsident, Sie sind ein Arschloch" (With all due respect, Mr. President (of the Bundestag), you are an asshole.)

And now, we finally get back to those two German sentences I left untranslated above. The first is from another foreign minister, Hans-Dietrich Genscher, of the then-West-Germany, spoken in the German Embassy in Prague. People from the GDR had left the country towards Czechoslovakia in thousands, climbed the fence of the embassy ground, and were technically on West German ground - so no GDR official could get them to go back. They camped in and around the embassy for weeks, simply because they wanted out of East Germany.
On September 30th, Genscher went to Prague to deliver his message. The reaction can be found here.

Interesting to note: You can't actually hear if he's saying yes or no, because it totally drowns in the emotional outburst.

The second quote occured one-and-a-half months later. During a press conference, Günther Schabowski of the GDR essentially tells the stumped journalists, that yes, every GDR citizen is now free to leave the country, no strings attached, if they so choose. A few weeks before, this was a total exception, and only months before, people still were shot at for crossing the border.

But: actually, this new travel policy should have been active the next day, on November 10th. Additionally: It was planned to publish this at 4 o'clock in the morning, when everyone was asleep - not at 19.00, when everyone and their grandma is sitting at the telly.

So, hundreds of GDR citizens called their neighbours and went to the Wall. The border police, of course, knew of nothing - they would've been informed the next morning, and remember, this was the end of the eighties, so no internet, and no cellphone to call your superiors, if suddenly hundreds of people tell you of a law that you never heard before. You have to give it to both the policemen and the civilians during that evening that no one panicked, no one was hurt, no shot had been fired. The events of that night, finally, in a video here.
(disregard the poor fashion choices, mullets and frizzy hair, please - remember, this is
a) the eighties,
b) those people actually had to stand in line for those clothes, for hours, and
c) this is the fucking Fall of the Berlin Wall, right over there. The first peaceful revolution the Germans have managed in the History of ...Forever, so be a little happy for us.

Rude Awakenings

I'm not a morning person. I've gotten used to it. But because I'm always accumulating bad karma, random deities like to screw up my sleeping patterns. I can handle stress pretty good by now, or workload, or just random strangers happening to share their live-stories with me(yes that happens, no, I don't like it), but if I don't get a minimum of six hours sleep at night, I'm a very hard customer.
Additionally, on Tuesdays, I have the day off from work, and really like to sleep in, because I'm much happier when I start the day on 8.30 than 5.45 a.m. Especially considering my Monday ends usually on Tuesday, 2.30 a.m. or so.

So, of course, this is the cue for:

Tuesday, three weeks ago. 7 a.m.
Doorbell: *bing-bong*
Teshik: *snore*
Doorbell: *bing-bong*
Teshik: *grunts* *rolls over*
Doorbell: *bing-bong*!
Teshik: (his face buried in the pillow) Die. Just...die.
Doorbell: Dude, totally: *Bing-Bong*!!
Teshik: (imaginative cursing). Fine. FINE!
I stumble out of bed, grab a pair of jeans, because, whoever it is I have to kill right now, I'm not doing that while in my skimmies. It's a matter of principle. I stagger down the stairs, and open the door. There's a man outside, smiling. The part of my brain that's older than humanoid evolution, and one of the few parts already available does a quick calculation. Conclusion: Target larger than me, ripping out his throat with my teeth is inadvisable. For now.
Guy that shouldn't be so cheerful at 7 a.m.: Good Morning!
Teshik: *wookie noise*
Mr. Cheerful: So, where's the basement door?
There is a pause as Teshik tries to restart his brain. A starting car engine is heard in the background. He fails.
Teshik: Ehhhhhhh....whyyyyyy?
Mr. Cheerful: The boiler?
The engine starter tries again. Teshik's brain tries to establish a factual baseline for the snippets "cheerful unknown man", "boiler", "men trying to enter home" and "god knows when in the morning".
Teshik's Brain: Oh whatthefuckEVER. Just go with it. Wake me if he's a serial killer with superpowers.
Teshik: Eh. Follow me. (leads him to the boiler room and goes back upstairs).
Mom: (from the downstairs bathroom) Teshik! Teshik! Teshik!
I go over to the bathroom and try to open the door. Said door is shut firmly and quickly, hitting my head.
Teshik: OW! Fuck, Mom!
Mom: Don't open the door, don't open the door! Is he in the basement?
Teshik: Yeah...Who exactly...?
Mom: The heating's broke in some rooms, and we called someone over.
Teshik: And why did he ring my bell?
Mom: Because he's half an hour early, and I was just toweling myself.
Teshik: And you didn't open because...
Mom: ...my clothes are in the bedroom, and I'm butt naked.
Teshik: Aaahh. I'll get'em.
Mom: (pause) Did I just hit you?
Teshik: Yep.
Mom: Sorry.
Teshik: Don't worry, I'll bitch about it when I'm awake.

--

Tuesday, two weeks ago. 7.15 a.m.
Teshik: No, Superman, don't do it, Bambi is leading you into a trap.
Superman: Don't worry, I have many origami skills that will save me. Also: *bing-bong*.
Teshik: Sorry, I didn't get that.
The giant stone statue of Princess Clara: *binnnng-bonnnng*
Teshik: Mrrrfnl? Oh. (innovative cursing suggesting the doorbell ringer's mother enganged in unlawful acts with a raccoon)
This time, it's a woman in a business suit.
Woman: Hello! It's Mrs Schneider. I'm here for the photos?
Meanwhile, in the scary recesses of Teshik's head:
Aggression: I say we kill'er.
Curiosity: Wait! There's some interesting story behind that. (pause) And probably quite some innuendo.
Common Sense: What person in her right mind would decide 7 a.m is the right time to ring at a random stranger's door and ask for photos?
Memory: Oh, stranger things have happened to us.
Common Sense: True.
Aggression: I still say we kill'er.
Id: Id agrees.
Curiosity: Do you think she wants photos of us, photos of her, or something different?
Super-ego: Murdering a human being, is, as of current legislation, considered a major crime and thus, should be avoided. I suggest asking her for the purpose of the proposed pictures.
Proofreading: Aaah, Alliteration! Awesome!
Aggression: (to Super-ego) Killjoy. (to Proofreading) Idiot.
Ego: What's all the racket up here? Aren't we supposed to be asleep? ...Who the hell is this woman and what does she mean with photos? *sigh* I'll better get back in the driver's seat.
Back in the outside world.
Mrs. Schneider: Err...
Teshik: *wookie noise*?
Mrs. Schneider: You know, the photos for the house? Is <Mrs Nakatani> at home too?
Teshik: I really hope so.
This time, my mother was awake, and fully clothed, but for some reason Mrs Schneider found it necessary and/or funny to ring at my door instead of my parents. Turns out she works for a local financing agency, and my parents had tried to change the loan for the house to a different bank for a while now (mostly because the interest rates weren't as cushy as they had been in the mid-eighties), and the new bank wanted some security that our house wasn't a total dump or local crack house. Hence, the photos. It's still no explanation why these pictures had to be taken at seven in the morning, or why she insisted on taking a picture of my bathroom, but not of my freshly renovated bedroom. Oh well. It all boils down to "we have to pay 100 € less each month for the house", so in the end, I won't complain. Much.

--

Tuesday, last week, 8.45 a.m. At last, a sensible time. Well, if I hadn't worked on my paper till four in the morning, that is, but that's kinda my own damn fault. This time, it's the phone ringing. Hooray for variance.

Teshik: *snore*
Phone: deee-dooh-de-de-der-dooh-de-dee-dum!
Teshik: Oh, fuck me.
Phone: deee-dooh-de-de-der-dooh-de-dee-dum!
Teshik: New Item on TODO-List: devise flesh-eating bacteria. Set flesh-eating bacteria loose on innocent population. Wait in Biohazard suit until Eurafrasia is completely depopulated. Live happily ever after.
He goes over to the living room and the phone.
Teshik: What?
Mom: Where is that thingy?
Teshik's analytical brain component: Semantic analysis in Progress. Voice analysis confirms caller is "Mom". Message: Location of "thingy" object needed. Searching recent memory memes for mention of "thingy", as to supply additional meaning and context. Search complete. "thingy" not found. Conclusion: Data insufficient. No hypothesis reached. Redo from start.
Teshik: What?
Mom: You know...for the tires? For the screws.
Teshik's analytical brain component: Context supplied. Attempting to recalculate. Tires means either bicycle or car. Since our bicycles have been uselessly rusting in our garage for years, car tires are the most likely objects meant. Mother wants a tool, probably a wrench or ratchet. Raising the question: Since Mom's technical expertise in cars is as low as mine, and the tires are almost half her size and weight, how, and why does she want to disassemble our vehicles? Especially considering Mom has a bad back?
Teshik: Please stay where you are until I am wearing pants and can help you.
Mom: No, no! Go back to sleep, just tell me where the thingy is.
Teshik's mind.
Common Sense: But, since we're already awake, and she's pursuing a thinly veiled passive-aggressive strategy, does she really think we would crawl back into bed, even if we could sleep?
Aggression: I say we kill'er.
Common Sense: Matricide without adequate reason? Is...unwise.
Aggression: We could...maim her a little?
Common Sense: Hmm...
Back outside.
Teshik: Just...don't touch anything, I'll be right there.

Okay, so Mom didn't want to do all the heavy work by herself, since Malady and her boytoy (Who I will name TheDick, just for a cheap laugh) were going to help her. But Mom was up early, and decided she could just "prepare a little". Only, that's kind of an "in motion" thing with her: She starts off looking for the tools, drives the first car into position, gets the car jack, decides one little tire isn't going to kill her, and the next thing you know, I find my Mom buried under a giant tire stack, a la Wicked Witch of the West and lil'DoroTeshik has to travel into Lollipop-Guild-controlled land to get his spleen back. And you know, since I'm just not the type for sparkly red high heels, this would've only ended very, very badly. Hee.
So, of course, I was the one getting the tires, explaining this to Mom, only leaving out the Wizard of Oz parts (I'm crazy, not stupid). And either because I'm a klutz or God loves a cheap laugh as much as the next guy, in the very next second, I lose grip of a tire and brain myself in the face with it. And then take the day off because of mild concussion afterwards. And let me tell you: nothing is better than your friends singing "the last Unicorn" instead of "happy birthday" three days later. Or more surreal.

So, what did we learn today? Not much, except that getting out of bed is dangerous.