Lennon was right. All you need is love.
Monthly Archive for May, 2002
So psyched to see Mom, Liz and Aunt Nancy. Life is good, but unfortunately really busy. I’m sure I’ll be hitting up the late night internet cafes while I’m here and the rest of the group sleeps. I always end up doing that… Hope all is well. Much love.
Just uploaded 54 pictures from across europe (placed in the aply titled ‘Across Europe’ Gallery). Dig them. I’ll add descriptions later, maybe tomorrow night before my people arrive in Paris. Much love! I’m outta here…
Is lovely. But, unfortunately, I have to go to Paris. I’ll update for real when I get there. Wish me luck on my 19 hour train trip. This is almost as bad as Australia.
America is the most powerful thing in the world, and maybe 5% of America knows it.
#4
The X-Files were right. Trust no one. Read everything. Read The Economist, the New York Times, The Times of London, National Review. This relates to number five.
#5
Balance is the future. Balance should be the goal. Taoism is right in this regard.
The first real casualty on this trip was my ankh necklace that I left in Sydney. My understanding is that Chris was nice enough to send that back to me. Net result: I’m still in possession of my necklace. Second casualty: my towel that I left in Dublin on the edge of my bed. Air dry or recycled t-shirt ever since. Not really an issue and I might just “confused” a white t-shirt of mine with a hotel towel… Third casualty: Today, post-tour (more on that maybe tomorrow), I left a present that I bought Amy, the new Economist, and Tom Wolfe’s “Hooking Up” (with my Eurail Pass Protection voucher inside—just the voucher: the pass hasn’t been further from me than three feet in three weeks) at the McDonalds register and when I finally realized what I had done, the angry-looking staff played dumb and shook their heads. I think they ganked it because I’m a stupid bloody American Tourist™.
Plans
Going out with some people tonight then off to Budapest tomorrow morning.
You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this movie. You roll your eyes, and you say “Um, since the last one?” Technically, you should be right, but this was the movie that Episode I should have been, and I waited for that for a long, long time. I remember my friend Brendan talking with me when I was little about the “Prequels” and how Lucas was going to wait to make them till he thought the technology was good enough. I wanted this movie. When Episode I came out, after the thrill of the pod-race and anytime Natalie Portman was onscreen had died down, I was actually a little disappointed. Yes, I know, it had to lay out the broad spectrum, define the limits within an epic story could be told, but it still could have been better done. It seemed, well, safe, not risky and quick like the originals. Episode II is much, much different. Episode II fills the void created by Episode I. Episode II is epic and beautiful. The links to the other movies, the hints, the artistry in the crafting of (albeit badly delivered)lines that act like viruses in your mind, slowly taking over and expanding. One really feels the story, believes in the existence of a galactic republic, believes in the force and the actions indicative of destiny. My only gripe, really, was that Lucas has no idea how to use actors. He has, at his disposal, some of the most talented and powerful actors available (Natalie Portman, Ewan McGregor, Samuel L. Jackson, Christopher Lee… Yoda…) and yet their performances feel stiff, unbalanced. Even some of the interim lines feel like Lucas was trying to remember, himself, what made the other movies, A New Hope in particular, so good, and he ended up trying too hard. It’s forgivable, though, as the story itself is so skillfully assembled. Definite recommendation. Go see it now. And not in German. I made that mistake the first time.
I didn’t want to go. I really didn’t. I tried to con myself into believing that reading books about the Holocaust and seeing Schindler’s List was enough. I don’t need to see this, I thought. My trip, to now, and with limited exceptions, has been an entirely pleasurable experience. “Why change that?” I asked myself. It was a rhetorical question. I knew I had to go to Dachau.It was loaded with irony, even just approaching Dachau. It was a beautiful day today. The sun was bright and brilliant. There were no clouds in the sky bar light and loose ones at the horizons. There was a light west to east wind that swept across the flat Rhineland plains of which Munich is the capital. The town of Dachau is, actually, beautiful. The town centre has packed early 19th century-looking buildings and cobblestone streets. The countryside has flowing fields punctuated by small streams that come together in the town center, necessitating a small romanesque bridge. It’s beautiful. It’s 2 miles from a death camp. So it goes.
I won’t tell you start to finish about my tour of Dachau, because if you’re seriously interested you could undoubtedly find a better website with a more talented writer that can take you visually and historically through the whole camp. I’ll just tell you my impressions. I’ve been thinking a lot about my experiences today. I think they could be explained by one image that I just can’t get out of my head. I was sitting on the far end of the camp, near the memorials. The main barracks of the camp, where the prisoners were kept, were knocked down in the 1960s because they were decrepit. Only the foundations remain. On days like today, the sun beats down particularly hard on these foundations and the gravel paths around them. Being stone, they take this energy and radiate it around them. The effect is like we see on highways or savannas in summer. It’s as if shouts of horror from all those years ago were rising from the ground and shaking the air. It’s the first manifestation of the heavy atmosphere of the camp. One always hears writers use phrases like “The feeling of death was palpable,” or “It was a heavy atmosphere,” or “If these walls could talk…” and things like that. I’d never actually felt it till today. If the walls in Dachau could talk, they would scream. The vicious nature of this place is brought out by the camp motto, molded in iron on the entrance gate �Arbeit macht frei.� Work will set you free. This is a vicious truth. The only freedom one got in Dachau was death. And death was brought, in most cases, through overwork, like a bitter and compassion-free euthanasia.
Dachau is a heavy place. One feels the history, the violence, the barbarism. The feeling is brought to life by little simple explanations in different rooms like, “And this blank room in front of you is where countless prisoners were tortured to their death.” This takes a bit to sink in, but when it does, and is compounded by others, like “A man was executed for coughing on that spot you”re standing there,” the atmosphere is heavy and oppressive and sad. A look to the perfect sky above, the rolling fields beyond the fences, garners the question “How on earth could something like that have happened?” The only response to this question isn’t really a direct answer and is posted on the memorial, visible only when leaving, in five languages: Never again…
Mike’s Bike Tours
On a much, much lighter note, I passed this afternoon/evening on Mike’s Bike Tours. Yea, basically they give you a very silly looking bike with Harley Davidson hog handlebars that come up to your shoulders, and a little bell, usually in an embarassing neon color that used to be reserved for early 90′s spandex and MC Hammer video backgrounds. My tour guide (no, his name was not Mike) was a hilarious englishman named Jason. He’s been doing the tour for something like three years now, and when you weren’t being made to say “Wow…” at the historical or practical significance you were probably nearly falling off your bike you were laughing so hard. Definitely recommended to anybody in Munich. They do tours in Paris and Amsterdam, as well, apparently, so next time I’m in either of those places, I’m going to try and hit them up.
Lina, etc.
Yea, she didn’t try to kill me and we had a great night last night. We went out with her cousin and her cousins friends to the English garten. Definitely a fun time. Hope to see her friday as well. Much love, everybody. I hope all is well.
originally posted on 22 may 2002, edited because of embarassing mistakes 23 may 2002 and reposted.
That seriously seemed like the longest voyage of my life. Even Australia, which took over a day of travel to complete, felt less long than this. Berlin->Munich is killer. Even the ICE, the InterCityExpress, Germany�s shiny new technogism of a train, which goes at amazing speeds for most of the voyage, took forever on this trip. It wasn�t even really the time that killed me so much. Nice->Z�rich was longer, actually, but what got me this time was the fact that the damn train kept stopping every 20 minutes. If we had just gone a consistent speed, stopped at the major stops as was needed, the time could have been half, but today it just kept stopping and going, stopping and going. If one had no tactile or gravitational sense what so ever, one could tell when the train had stopped again as the babies that had rocked themselves to sleep on the gently vibrating floor of the train would wake up and want their mandala back. I�m with the babies, frankly; the whole experience was infuriating.
Memoirs of a Geisha
Great book. The character of Sayuri is an amazingly intricate construction. That was probably the best thing about the book: the way one immersed oneself in the life and surroundings of Sayuri almost effortlessly. The greatest books bring you into their world and you don�t notice the difference until you put them down. Memoirs was such a book. Definitely recommended.
Friends and family are the most important commodity in the world.