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Archiv für Oktober 2008

Straßenfeger

Bie­le­feld wird ger­ne als Inbe­griff von Pro­vinz ver­wen­det. Selbst in Orten, die noch pro­vin­zi­el­ler daher­kom­men als Bie­le­feld. Das ist einer­seits der Inhalt der Bielefeld-Verschwörung, der ande­re ist der Nerv-Faktor, den die­ser ‘Witz’ Bie­le­fel­dern berei­tet, wenn dar­auf Anspie­len­de mei­nen, sie erzähl­ten einen guten, gera­de­zu neu­en Witz.
Bei der Luhmann-Preisverleihung an Dwor­kin durch Haber­mas ver­wen­de­te der Ober­bür­ger­meis­ter Bie­le­felds in Anwe­sen­heit die­ser Per­so­nen der Zeit­ge­schich­te eine geschla­ge­ne Vier­tel­stun­de auf den Nach­weis, Bie­le­feld sei eben kei­ne Pro­vinz. Es gibt wohl kei­nen bes­se­ren Beweis dafür, dass Bie­le­feld Pro­vinz ist, als dass man für die Aus­brei­tung der Gegen­the­se län­ger als eine Vier­tel­stun­de braucht.
Das Pro­vin­zi­el­le wird aber kaum ein Bie­le­fel­der bestrei­ten. Dabei ist die Mög­lich­keit der Mobi­li­tät, den­ke ich, wesent­lich bedeut­sa­mer für die Dar­stel­lung des eige­nen qua­li­ta­ti­ven Lebens­stils als der momen­ta­ne Aufenthaltsort.
Aber es gibt Klei­nig­kei­ten, da spielt sich das Pro­vin­zi­el­le eben aus. Jeder Bie­le­fel­der, zum Bei­spiel, kennt die “Begleit­mu­sik” der Stadt­bahn. Steigt man an der End­hal­te­stel­le aus, knarzt eine Frau­en­stim­me beharr­lich “Mobil sagt tschüss, bis zum nächs­ten Mal.”. Und ich glau­be, genau­so beharr­lich, lässt sich der gemei­ne Stadt­bahn­fah­rer nicht ernst­haft von einer Ton­band­stim­me grüßen.
Zum ande­ren wird an der Hal­te­stel­le “Haupt­bahn­hof” eine Klin­gel­ton­ver­si­on Beet­ho­vens Für Eli­se zur Ver­trei­bung der orts­an­säs­si­gen Pen­ner ver­wen­det. Der Erfolg die­ser Akti­on ist, dass man die Pen­ner sage und schrei­be 5 Meter links und rechts in die Flucht geschla­gen hat. Wenn über­haupt. Wäre ich Initia­tor ihrer, wür­de ich sagen, die Akti­on ist sub­op­ti­mal gelau­fen, das Ziel eigent­lich ver­fehlt. Müss­te das der Ver­ant­wort­li­che nicht auch den­ken? Nur dann nicht, wenn es gar kein Ziel gege­ben hat oder das Ziel oder die Akti­on ver­ges­sen wur­de. Sowas ist in der Pro­vinz aber eben okay. Ein Auf­mu­cken wird es da so wenig geben wie Dank­sa­gun­gen irgend­wel­cher Bür­ger: “Lie­be Stadt Bie­le­feld, vie­len Dank für die­sen Beethoven-Klingelton, der die Pen­ner nervt. Er nervt uns zwar noch mehr, da er uns das elen­di­ge Rum­ste­hen an der düs­te­ren Hal­te­stel­le früh­zei­tig ankün­digt. Aber die­se akus­ti­sche Beläs­ti­gung ist eigent­lich nichts gegen die vor­mals visuelle.”
Anhand der­ar­ti­ger Aktio­nen mani­fes­tiert sich Pro­vin­zia­li­tät, gese­hen als Rück­stän­dig­keit, wesent­lich inten­si­ver als an geo­gra­phi­scher Lage.
Dass man die Stra­ßen Bie­le­felds auch anders leer­ge­fegt bekommt, durf­te little_james beim EM-Spiel Por­tu­gal gegen Deutsch­land feststellen:

The top chemical 500

The­re are not only pure per­so­nal mat­ters that appe­ar as too infor­ma­ti­ve on twit­ter but also sort of impersonal.

This comes up as maga­zi­nes or orga­ni­sa­ti­ons do think they have to appe­ar on twit­ter. I do not know anyo­ne who ever had a plau­si­ble theo­ry on the topic that orga­ni­sa­ti­ons have to go to twit­ter. But you do find maga­zi­nes and orga­ni­za­ti­ons there.

One of them is the ger­man “Friedrich-Schiller-Universität” in Jena. May­be it’s just a stu­dent having fun. May­be it’s someo­ne working for the uni­ver­si­ty lea­dership. May­be some geek. Who knows.

One of their tweets is this one:

In english: “The uni­ver­si­ty of Jena” is now wit­hin the top 500 list of the world’s most cited aca­de­mics in che­mi­stry. Gre­at. Congratulations.

Well I doubt that in a way. Is the­re a list of aca­da­mics in che­mi­stry sor­ted by their uni­ver­si­ty? That would sur­pri­ze me. May­be there’s one aca­da­mic that got onto the top list of che­mis­trists. And what if you can get on such a list becau­se of making a big mistake?

But how come someo­ne thinks this is a use­ful infor­ma­ti­on as a tweet. ‘Tweet’ seen as some­thing that’s basi­cal­ly meant for the moment. Some­thing that is dif­fi­cult to be clear­ly arti­cu­la­ted. And that often doesn’t reach the ones it’s sup­po­sed to be for.

Who’s the reci­pi­ent of this tweet in the eyes of ‘jen­a­po­lis’? Aca­de­mics of their own uni­ver­si­ty? Of other uni­ver­si­ties? Stu­dents to come? I don’t think the­re exists anyo­ne like that in twit­ter. I keep my mouth shut as the first twit­ter user admits he’s due to that kind of tweets inte­rested in Jena by now. Or Che­mi­stry. Or Top 500 lists.

So to me this tweet is very useless con­cer­ning infor­ma­ti­on and addressing.

Ben Walker — The twitter song

The lady’s juice

This week’s tweet is in a way real­ly a clas­si­cal one. Twit­ter used to start with the moti­vating ques­ti­on “What are you doing?”. After a while the users chan­ged their habit in ans­we­ring this ques­ti­on into ans­we­ring the ques­ti­on “What are you thin­king?”. Well that ques­ti­on isn’t far away from the for­mer. Befo­re you start doing some­thing you usual­ly think.

The ques­ti­on that comes next to be ans­we­red seems to be: “What is going on with your body at this very moment?”. A woman cal­led Ellen tells us in ans­wer to that question:

This is in english some­thing like “My fin­gers smell of the juice of my pus­sy: Sweet, sour­ly, spi­cy, deli­cous.” And it seems to be in a way part of a move­ment in ger­ma­ny . On top of their natio­nal book list is a book with almost the same topic and also this kind of juice seems to be a new form of pre­sent in germany.

The resent­ments of the com­mon twit­ter readers con­cer­ning the­se kind of tweets are some­thing like: We’re not inte­rested in the­se flu­ids or what anyo­ne does with them. We don’t expect anyo­ne on twit­ter to tell us some­thing about their illus­tra­ted thoughts about them.

The spe­cial thing about Ellen in com­pa­ri­son to others wri­ting about sexu­al acts is that she does not try to sell sex through twit­ter. She might want to pro­vo­ke others and find satis­fac­tion in doing so. Well, we don’t feel pro­vo­ked. We actual­ly do think she tou­ches a bor­der bet­ween pri­va­cy and publi­ci­ty. And she does it that way that there’s not­hing sexu­al left we want to find out about her.

That’s not bad in tactics.

The lady’s juice

This week’s tweet is in a way real­ly a clas­si­cal one. Twit­ter used to start with the moti­vating ques­ti­on “What are you doing?”. After a while the users chan­ged their habit in ans­we­ring this ques­ti­on into ans­we­ring the ques­ti­on “What are you thin­king?”. Well that ques­ti­on isn’t far away from the for­mer. Befo­re you start doing some­thing you usual­ly think.

The ques­ti­on that comes next to be ans­we­red seems to be: “What is going on with your body at this very moment?”. A woman cal­led Ellen tells us in ans­wer to that question:

This is in english some­thing like “My fin­gers smell of the juice of my pus­sy: Sweet, sour­ly, spi­cy, deli­cous.” And it seems to be in a way part of a move­ment in ger­ma­ny . On top of their natio­nal book list is a book with almost the same topic and also this kind of juice seems to be a new form of pre­sent in germany.

The resent­ments of the com­mon twit­ter readers con­cer­ning the­se kind of tweets are some­thing like: We’re not inte­rested in the­se flu­ids or what anyo­ne does with them. We don’t expect anyo­ne on twit­ter to tell us some­thing about their illus­tra­ted thoughts about them.

The spe­cial thing about Ellen in com­pa­ri­son to others wri­ting about sexu­al acts is that she does not try to sell sex through twit­ter. She might want to pro­vo­ke others and find satis­fac­tion in doing so. Well, we don’t feel pro­vo­ked. We actual­ly do think she tou­ches a bor­der bet­ween pri­va­cy and publi­ci­ty. And she does it that way that there’s not­hing sexu­al left we want to find out about her.

That’s not bad in tactics.

Why I love twitter

The brave

Today Mike Ray gives us a spe­ci­fic look into the male world of complaints:

So, fre­quent­ly Mike gets shots into his ass. It does not seem to be that much of impor­t­an­ce who’s shoo­ting at him or what it is, that is shot into his ass. For him the expe­ri­ence of being shot into his ass is the thing he wants to sha­re via twitter.
As you can read he’s being shot into his ass more than once, but see­min­gly the last time was qui­te a while ago. In the mean­ti­me he almost for­got that kind of suf­fe­ring. What he did not for­get in that time was the suf­fe­ring from being kicked into his balls. May­be that hap­pen­ed more often. This expe­ri­ence is so pre­sent in his mind that he thinks he can com­pa­re it to being shot into the ass qui­te easi­ly so that the reader will under­stand him.
What whit­hin both expe­ri­en­ces real­ly dis­turbs him is not the pain, but the “extre­me dis­com­fort”. So as it is not the phy­si­cal pain that dis­turbs you after being kicked into your balls, it has to be a psychic one. It could be a fee­ling of weak­ness. The fee­ling to be kno­cked out. The fee­ling not being ready to fight back imme­dia­te­ly. The fee­ling of not being a man.

Appar­ent­ly the bold­ness of get­ting shot in the ass or being kicked into your balls is the last resort of man­hood nowa­days. At least for Mike. Women somehow don’t do that or can’t do that. But the resi­dence in that resort lasts only seconds and qui­te quick­ly men are expel­led out of para­di­se. What a sad story.

Hope­ful­ly you have a few other hob­bies, Mike.

Weird Al Yankovic — Trapped in the drive-thru

The emo boarding

Wit­hin the last tweet we found out some­thing more about the world of man­hood and its chall­an­ges. That topic brought us to the ques­ti­on: What’s the grea­test chal­len­ge of woman­hood nowadays?

Won­der­girl has an ans­wer to that question:


In english: We deci­ded in chick talk that we all want to fuck an emo one day.
The­se girls refer to the actu­al defi­ni­ti­on of “emo” as given in wic­tiona­ry: “A young per­son who is con­s­i­de­red to be over-emotional or ste­reo­ty­pi­cal­ly emo”. I used to pic­tu­re it this way:

In the old days it was a challan­ge for women to “walk like an egyp­ti­an” and other types of adap­t­ing dif­fe­rent roles. The­se days are clear­ly over.
But how come fuck­ing an emo is one of the most inte­res­ting chall­an­ges a woman can expe­ri­ence the­se days? Are the­re more of the­se deci­si­ons done in chick talk we should bet­ter be infor­med about? Do they expect the emo to cry? Do they wan­na have someo­ne insi­de their bed being more stly­ed then they are?

Or do I miss the essen­ti­al point of fuck­ing emo’s?

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