Germany, September 11, 2008 - 8:27 p.m.
Everything is constantly repeated. I really can no longer watch any pictures from New York. Nine Eleven was an elusive event and a feast for conspiracy theorists. It also looks here like an attack has just been carried out in my flat. The TV documentary is annoying–quickly switch to another TV channel. I press the buttons on the remote control hard. News, Bible, esoteric, erotic, baby, home and garden, cooking, animals, motor sports, home shopping, weather, vacations, geography, astrology, crime, action, sport, music, comedy and, and, and. There’s a channel for everyone and if you’re not paying attention, you’ll amuse yourself to death.
Before I die in front of the TV, I treat myself to something quick. I speed into the kitchen, grab a bottle of that French red wine, one of those some bottles that I happily bought as a super special in the supermarket nearby. A great alternative to the Greek Retsina, that did nothing but cause me the feeling too often that my skull is exploding like an overripe melon. Of course, this was surely not necessarily caused at all by the quality of the juice of the grape, but was caused more by the quantity of my consummation. This again can be easily deduced from the fact that I actually lead a rather lousy life momentarily. I simply tried to fight my loneliness with alcohol. Thus, the empty bottles assembled in my kitchen into a sad but obvious mingle-mangle. Even more saddening, since quite some eternities, I cannot call any woman of my own. A woman who would clean up my complete mess and with whom I could enjoy jiving around in my bedroom. My mother always told me: A tidy house, a tidy mind! She was born in Belgium, in that part of Belgium where they speak Dutch. After my father died, she moved back there.
As I sit in front of the TV again, I continue to play around with my remote control. A young comedian makes a fool of himself with cheap jokes. It’s less funny for me and I switch to a church channel. An old catholic priest explains that the cross is a symbol of salvation and freedom. God is good, man is evil. Remember the doom of Sodom and Gomorrah. When the day of the Lord comes, the rich man will be destitute according to the Revelation of John chapter 18. I’m not interested at all. I do not believe in God. Nor do I like to believe the Simpsons that Donald Trump will one day become President of the United States. The last time I held a Bible in my hand was in religious education at school, about 35 years ago. I’m kidding. Hey parson! I don’t need God, I need money. What’s the opposite of God? Gold, perhaps? Both start with G and O and end with a D. Or money?
Another channel, an ape is riding a bicycle, then a boat. How funny! That is interesting me! Suddenly, advertisements, I zap again through the channels and am surprised to find an older clip, shown on MTV, Motörhead! Clearly, Motörhead was one of the toughest, most brutal bands in my youth. The members must be aliens, they were drunk from morning until late at night. No human being would endure such an ordeal for long. They lead an extreme life. I am sure, nothing ever changed even today.
Actually, in the meantime, the noise does suck a little and I switch briskly through the colorful TV program. Too bad, no soccer to be found on any sports channels. Instead, a report about the most beautiful castles along the river Loire, shown on a cultural channel, the most pompous residencies of former French kings. Yes, yes, yes, the French. The Frenchman enjoys life and it is well known that he loves three things more than anything else: his language, his wine and the wife of the neighbor. I switch to another channel, here we go–the first Jurassic Park! I saw that 15 years ago in a cinema, damn, how time passes. And it was already rerun a few times on TV.
Everything is constantly repeated. Even the cheap questions, one can find in the total non-spiritual quiz shows. The ones where the audience can phone-in. But calling is not cheap, it costs a lot of money. I seriously ask myself the question: Who is more stupid? The quiz, the producer, or the well equipped female moderator? Or the viewer? I do watch that stuff from time to time, but only when this total junk is presented by a sexy bitch. The sexier the top, the higher the viewing rates, this must be the thinking of the director. Nevertheless, this is all beyond any level for me and any soccer game of the VFL Osnabrück is definitely more inspiring than that. This should tell you everything.