Lone Wolf and Cub

After watching a very bloody Japanese sword movie I feel like writing some lines.
Dear Blog. In the absence of a friend to whom I can tell all this, I write it down, on a server somewhere, for you, dear audience, to read.
Imagine a wolf, no better a werewolf, sitting on a window sill, in a vast building, in winter, howling at the moon.
Imagine a lightning fast creature, speeding through the snow storm towards a distant light.
Imagine an almost dead mammoth stuck in a tar pit.
Imagine a man watching an endless colony of ants, that has occupied a whole mountain.
Imagine a lover knowing nothing about his beloved one
Imagine a gambler losing and winning every single day
And finally imagine a man living on a park bench in Bauernbergpark who watches another guy with a brown and white dog walk by.
If you can imagine all this we can start to talk about the world. If you do not understand, who else will?

Total Eclipse

Thales of Miletus is famous for correctly predicting a solar eclipse. I cannot even correctly recall the date of the one that I saw more than 10 years ago somewhere in Burgenland. That is not the only fact why Thales was a much better philosopher than I will ever be. He did not get headaches from mathematics and he was so courageous to declare that everything comes from water. I can only turn wine into water.
My system of logic fails to solve simple puzzles and I refuse to read Hegel.
Nevertheless I know many names of philosophers. I am sure this makes me one of them. Maybe I could wear a funny toga with a sign stitched on that says "Philosopher" or I could buy me a barrel.
Ah. Now I will predict the next total eclipse.
Voila: May 20 2012, not so faR FROM NOW.
Poor Thales did not have Wikipedia to assist his predictions. Tahda: With some technical assistance I will be as famous as Thales, the first philosopher, you will see.

Black Magic Woman

Peter Green has a rather interesting biography. Whatever happened to him in 1970, he has all my sympathy not only for being one of the greatest guitarists of all time. He is indeed a survivor.
My friend Wolfgang is not.
He died a few days ago just before his 46th birthday. It was either another suicide attempt, this time a successful one, or the consequences of his latest attempt. I am not sure.
He was a prisoner. We all are. Nevertheless, we usually are aware of the taste of freedom. Some of us more often, some of us less often. I don't know what took his life in the end. He was  always living a few steps from the grave. The best times for him were those when he didn't realize that his house was built on sand and he had this childish stare at the world. Then he was in peace. Long stretches of his life seem like agony to me.
For me he always had kind words and he helped me whenever he could. I should have spent more time with him. Now all I can do is carry him with me in my heart. This I will do.
He didn't live far from the Bauernbergpark Man. Everyday I go past Wolfgang's empty apartment I wish that he may be together with a black magic woman now.
Someone to magic away the pain he had to endure in this world.

Sometimes

Cold Black Night

I have rediscovered 60ies Blues from England for myself. So I listen to Fleetwood Mac with Peter Green all the time.
For a while the weather seems good for both the Bauernberpark Man and me, though I suppose that is due to climate change.

Ah: Albatross. Hmm.

Before going to bed I tend to read Russell's History of Western Philosophy. When doing so I considered that I want to write books that will have to be burnt some day by a totalitarian regime. But instead I am writing this blog. Does that make sense?
Maybe I have to write in a more provocative way.

Ah: Black Magic Woman. Hmm. Nice Peter Green solo.

I guess I am too much soaked with popular culture and too far away from the street (intellectually) to be able to write something valuable.
Nevertheless I love to quote: From Shakespeare to Nietzsche, from Anaximander to the Rolling Stones:
"Hier bin ich Mensch"

Ah: Like Crying. Hmm

The Bauernbergpark Man has another habit, I haven't mentioned. When he leaves the place where he sleeps (at the moment it's the pavilion) he often walks down to a Hofer shop nearby. There he sits on a chair. I don't know if he asks passers-by for money. I am not sure.

Ah: Need Your Love So Bad. Hmm

Good Night. May it not be too cold.