I know, I'm a little behind the curve here, but this is still very good. Note the reference to one of the classic Luebke-isms, ' Equal goes it loose' which, believe it or not, is the literal translation for the German phrase: 'It's about to start'.
Over the weekend, I visited the magical kingdom of Swabia. Its ancient tongue is an unmistakable sing-songy drawl, and its inhabitants are the Germans' Germans, in the sense that some writers are 'writers' writers.' The Swabians are Germans' Germans for two reasons. First, they embody (many aspects of) Deutschtum at its purest and pristinest. Second, like novels written by 'writer's writers,' Swabians are, shall we say, a niche product. Other Germans complain loudly about the Swabians' obsession with order, as exemplified by officious neighbors who crawl inside of garbage cans. Why do they do this? To make sure that whichever tenant was last obliged to clean them during the Kehrwoche (weekly rotating cleaning duties) had done a proper job.
But let's put that to one side for a moment -- especially since I have a looming deadline. For now, you'll just have to content yourself with some pictures of things I found amusing. Translations, if needed, provided in the hover text.
'Stop it!' you're screaming. 'I can't take it anymore! Wasn't there anything -- anything -- redeeming about Swabia?'
Why yes, this bird, resting on the letters of a beer advertisement in a passage under the Stuttgart central station:
Germany is the country of Freikoerperkultur and nude dejeuners sur l'herbe in the middle of the English Garden in Munich, so we should not be surprised that lots of Germans were willing to get their kit off for this online project. The photos are pretty nice, but just as charming are the Denglish job descriptions ("tender management", "qualified dental employee").
Germany's a biker's paradise, because there are trails everywhere, and odd little things to see even in the country's dullest backwater. As proof, here are a few photos I took last weekend, when the sky was uncharacteristically illuminated for a few hours by a gigantic, glowing orb last seen about 3 months ago. First, a piece of graffiti under the Fleher Bruecke -- featuring Street Denglish!
You know, I'd say that with that caramel-colored angora bodysuit, free-floating teeth, and multiple pupils, he actually does look "alike" a "psyco murda."
And now for something more dignified: a roadside altar from 1706.
I think the inscriptions's in Dutch. Anyone want to help translate?
An interesting abandoned factories seen from the front (note the odd stepped platforms)...
Spotted recently in Rome, a package of Crik Crok potato chips, which are manufactured in Germany but sold in Italy:
Behold the mysteries of cross-border snack-food marketing:Ungarisch is the German word for 'Hungarian'. Taste is the English word for 'taste', but the German word for 'key'. At the bottom, barely visible in this crappy cellphone picture, is "Gourmet Potato Chips." I think we cannot assume that the Germans intended an obscure reference to keys, since if the German word 'key' is feminine, so the preceding adjective would have to read 'ungarische'.
From a pamphlet distributed in New York City in 1918 by the 5 defendants (Yiddish-speaking Russian Jewish Communists) in the case of Abrams v. U.S.:
'America and her Allies have betrayed [the Workers]. Their robberish aims are clear to all men. The destruction of the Russian Revolution, that is the politics of the march to Russia.
'Workers, our reply to the barbaric intervention has to be a general strike! An open challenge only will let the government know that not only the Russian Worker fights for freedom, but also here in America lives the spirit of Revolution.'