Aus gegebenen Anlass muss ich mal wieder was aus dem Archiv wühlen – heute eine „Schweizer Begegnung“, und da erschien mir das furchtbar passend. Aus dem Dienstbüchlein vom Hrrn Frisch, (Erhältlich hier).
Disziplin – man verstand schon,was das Militär darunter versteht; nur hat das mit Disziplin wenig zu tun. Ein Maulesel, der seine Lasten trägt tut es aus der Erfahrung, dass er sonst geschlagen wird. Disziplin setzt eine gewisse Einsicht voraus; Latein als Disziplin, Mathematik als Disziplin, Poesie als Disziplin. Der Wille, etwas zu lernen und zu leisten, kann als Disziplin bezeichnet werden. Das setzt eine Person voraus. Disziplin entspringt dem Bewusstsein, dass man über sich selber verfügt, nicht dem Bewusstsein, dass über uns verfügt wird.
Das Militär (so wie ich es erfahren habe) verwechselt Disziplin mit Gehorsam. Diese Verwechslung, verlautbart bei jeder Gelegenheit, war das eigentliche Ärgernis. Befehl ist Befehl, die Kader brauchen uns nicht zu überzeugen; wir nehmen die Sacke schon auf, keine Sorge, wir tun es aus der Erfahrung des Maulesels. Nur täuschen sich die Kader, wenn sie, mehr oder minder befriedigt, Disziplin feststellen.
Was das Militär erzielt, indem es sich auf Strafen verlässt, ist Gehorsam. Disziplin hat ihren Ansatz in einer Freiwilligkeit. Die Verzichte und Beschwerlichkeiten, die Disziplin uns auferlegt, entsprechen einem größeren Wunsch.
Disziplin heißt: man verlangt etwas von sich selber. Das tut der Maulesel nicht. Das tut der Kanonier nicht, der von Tagwache bis Lichter löschen entmündigt wird. Es geht dabei nicht um den Grad der Beschwerlichkeit. Übrigens wissen wir als Erwachsene, dass Disziplin (was diesen Namen verdient) mehr Kräfte auslöst als Gehorsam, der nicht einem eigenen Interesse entspringt und lediglich ein schlaues Verhalten ist, um sich Strafen zu ersparen. Disziplin hat mit Überzeugung zu tun, mit Gewissen, sie hat mit Mündigkeit zu tun.
You know you haven’t had had a very intersting life lately when you only remember your plattforms login because of an ironclad reminder – which might or might not be permanently written upon a part of your person you aren’t showing regularly to people (except if your a pornstar, prisoner or priest).
Well, but why I saddled the old horse? I just finished a book, and had a little grabby-grabby with one of the best cameras oin the market today. The former is „It’s Not Me, It’s You!: Impossible perfectionist, 27, seeks very very very tidy woman“ by Jon Richardson, the latter is the Nikon D800e. Too give you a sample of the book, here’s some quoting, first on the subject of recipes in magazines, which is, sadly, spot on.
Weekend magazines are filled with what are, in reality, middle-class lifestyle pornographic photographs rather than recipes.
The main theme is the slighty unnerving battlefiled of relationsships – not romance or love, but relationships. This is unnerving because you know Richardson, his voice and stage persona. Makes it funny, though.
Staying single is simply a matter of playing the odds. In all my life, including my family, friends, the families of my friends and so on, I would say that I am aware of one couple who have been together all their lives and who I am almost certain are happier for it. Just one. The rest consists of relationships which have not yet had the chance to fail, couples who have stayed together against their will through obligation or responsibility or those who consider the back and forth of rowing and making up to be a sign of a passionate relationship. I would think that if you cannot get along with the person you live with at least most of the time, then there is probably some sort of problem.
In a concealed section at the back of my wallet I keep one ten-pound note and one ten-euro note, in case of emergencies. I used to keep a condom in here, but I got so tired of transferring the same one across each time I bought a new wallet that the gesture began to depress me too much, in much the same way that it might upset disabled people if wheelchairs had a compartment for storing skis. How could it be long enough to perish leather since I last had call to use this condom? As a man I am required to carry a condom with me at all times, as if the possibility for sex could occur at any moment and with little or no warning. You think you are just nipping to the shop for some bread, but really should accept that you are probably going to end up sleeping with the girl on the checkout and maybe someone else too. Best always to travel tooled up.
I am unable to understand how it is that people gain any enjoyment from swimming, or how they could find it in any sense relaxing. There is a distinct difference between exercising and avoiding death by drowning. I have never been good at swimming, because there is no incentive beyond not drowning. If I fall out of a boat, I will survive, but I refuse to start a process of devolution by working my way back into the water. We began life aquatically and then developed over time the necessary limbs and body parts to live on land. As far as I am concerned if you are a good swimmer then that means simply that you have not yet evolved far enough.
And those pictures are obviously from the camera – even the botanical garden is closed, and it’s to dark outside to do a proper test, I utilised the poor mans aviary – a potted herb with some flies.
More to follow.
Does this fit your office behaviour?
Basically, there are three trays: In, Out, and Shake It All About;
the last one was where he put everything
he was too busy, angry, tired, or bewildered to do anything about.
Terry Pratchett, Snuff
And, talkin about behaviour:
In the scientific world, the Not-Invented-Here bias is fondly called
the toothbrush theory.
The idea is that everyone wants a toothbrush,
everyone needs one, everyone has one,
but no one wants to use anyone else’s.
Dan Ariely, The Upside of Irrationality
Besides that? Nothin happens. Not really. Writing my book, hoping it gets finished SOMEDAY (anyday!), preferably befor this years photokina, and playing around with a few cameras. oh, and working, of course 😉
Just because I can might not mean that I should, but if I shouldn’t, cant I just because?
All governments suffer a recurring problem: Power attracts pathological personalities. It is not that power corrupts but that it is magnetic to the corruptible. Such people have a tendency to become drunk on violence, a condition to which they are quickly addicted.
Bureaucracy destroys initiative. There is little that bureaucrats hate more than innovation, especially innovation that produces better results than the old routines. Improvements always make those at the top of the heap look inept. Who enjoys appearing inept?
Chapterhouse: Dune (Frank Herbert)
He met his day in the shower, washing his hair with shampoo that was guaranteed to have never been put in a bunny’s eyes and from which ten percent of the profits went to save the whales. He lathered his face with shaving cream free of chlorofluorocarbons, thereby saving the ozone layer. He breakfasted on fertile eggs laid by sexually satisfied chickens that were allowed to range while listening to Brahms, and muffins made with pesticide-free grain, so no eagle-egg shells were weakened by his thoughtless consumption. He scrambled the eggs in margarine free of tropical oils, thus preserving the rain forest, and he added milk from a carton made of recycled paper and shipped from a small family farm. By the time he finished his second cup of coffee, which would presumably help to educate the children of a poor peasant farmer named Juan Valdez, Sam was on the verge of congratulating himself for single-handedly saving the planet just by getting up in the morning.
Coyote Blue (Christopher Moore)