Sonntag, 29. September 2002

ein kritiker für die bücherlosen massen, für die zahnärzte und die schalke-fans.





F: Hinterlässt das Unsichtbareh Spuren? A: Wie gemeines Rehwild hinterlassen fast ausnahmslos alle Trugwildarten Spuren welche ein geübter Ungefährtenleser gelegentlich auch von normalen Wildwechseln unterscheiden kann.

Die Eidgenössische Trugwildmeldestelle.





Russ Meyer: Photographs.





Samstag, 28. September 2002

Das ist mir bisher völlig entgangen:

At a meeting in the Axel Springer building in Hamburg on Aug. 27 with about 30 American friends of Germany, the defense minister who had been recently booted out of Chancellor Gerhard Schröder's cabinet for financial irregularities was asked why Germany was so loudly opposed to President Bush's campaign to oust Saddam Hussein. Rudolf Scharping reported that he had answered that very question in a Schröder cabinet meeting: it was all about the Jews. Bush was motivated to overthrow Saddam by his need to curry favor with what Scharping called "a powerful — perhaps overly powerful — Jewish lobby" in the coming U.S. elections. Jeb Bush needed their votes in Florida as George Pataki did in New York, and Congressional redistricting made Jewish votes central to control of Congress. Germany, the discredited minister said proudly to his discomfited audience, had rejected such pandering.
William Safire in der NYT (Registrierung erforderlich) über The German Problem. Scharping hat das ein paar Tage später dementiert, aber was hat Scharping nicht dementiert?





Mogul Style is less about conspicuous consumption than contemptuous consumption. It's the giddy spending of money — sometimes shareholders' money — and it results not in the pleasure of ownership, or connoisseurship, but in the succulent gratification of making other moguls quake in their Gucci loafers.

For example: imagine a birthday party calculated to impress on the Costa Smeralda in Sardinia, at a hillside loggia nestled between sea views and a golf course. The waiters wear togas, and fig trees rented for one night wave their fruited limbs over the tables.

From beyond the pool, lighted with floating candles, emerges a waiter. When guests ask him for a drink, he pours Stolichnaya vodka into a giant ice sculpture of Michelangelo's "David" that sluices the liquid magically around the icy torso, eventually spouting into a crystal glass.

Then Elvis — an Elvis impersonator, of course — sings "Happy Birthday," and fireworks boom over the golf course.

It's no fantasy. The birthday party, as outlined in a planning memo sent by a Tyco International staff member, Beth Pacitti, in April 2001, is just another item to add to the growing list of L. Dennis Kozlowski's apparent excesses while chief executive of the company. The total cost for the party on June 14, 2001, which celebrated the 40th birthday of his wife, Karen: $2.1 million. Tyco picked up half the tab.

America has been peeping into the wrong windows. Who cares where Charlize Theron buys scented candles when Mr. Kozlowski, at the tail end of the economic boom, spent $6,000 of his company's money on a shower curtain for his Fifth Avenue apartment, according to a 242-page report filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission by Tyco last week. The report also said he spent $17,100 on an antique toilet kit, $15,000 on a poodle-shaped umbrella stand and $5,960 on two sets of sheets, sticking his hand deep into the Tyco cookie jar as if it were dispensing tollhouses in his own kitchen.

(Mr. Kozlowski was indicted on Sept. 12 on charges that he and the company's former chief financial officer reaped $600 million through a racketeering scheme involving stock fraud, unauthorized bonuses and falsified expense accounts.)

Mogul Style is more flamboyant and expensive than Hollywood Style, than anyone on "MTV Cribs" or in the pages of In Style magazine, no matter how many bottles of Cristal Champagne Puff Daddy's posse can drink in one night. Whereas celebs are trying to impress their fans, moguls are trying to impress each other.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Red-Faced: Die NYT (Registrierung erforderlich) über Mogul Style.





heidi specker.





Freitag, 27. September 2002

Silvie Fleury





Welcome to Antville, USA, the only American town to be occupied solely by enormous ants! Here are some of the colourful characters you will encounter during your valued stay in our beautiful village:

Slick Rick Hollywood: SoCal cool, insect-style. Slick Rick is the talk of all the ladies in Antville, and has been for some time, despite our extremely short lifespans. With his catchphase "Check it, yo." and his souped-up ride, every right-minded antess is rendered weak-kneed. While Rick is too much a gentleman to ever turn down a date, mysteriously, no lucky female has yet been able to get inside his tight, firm exoskeleton. His hobbies include sewing, interior design, and hanging out at the little-known male-only Digger club near the edge of town. I wonder what goes on in that club - you know it's "happening" if Rick's there!





ich sitze im hörsaal 43 der wiener hauptuni in einer vorlesung von konrad paul liessmann der gerade von der relevanz des selbstmordes in autobiographischen romanen im kontext der jungen sozialdemokratischen bewegung in der ersten republik redet. plötzlich holt konrad seinen großen laserpointer heraus und beginnt damit die umrisse von alfred pfabigan auf der tafel nachzuzeichnen, ich halte es nicht länger aus und ... << Masturbationsphantasien.





In Linz beziehen wir ein Zimmer in einem etwas außerhalb gelegenen Gasthof „Donautal“ oder so ähnlich. Gemütlich gestimmt schreiten wir die Treppe herunter zur Gaststube. Uns gelüstet nach gebratenem Fisch oder gleichsam einfachen Speisen. Die Donau liegt vor der Nase und mir wird ganz heimatlich nach Elbe und Weindörfern zumute.

Aber ach, zu spät. Was erblicken wir schon auf der handschriftlichen Speisekarte? Unverständlich und nicht sehr hungerstillend klingende Gerichte, wie „Eierschwammersülz“ oder Carpaccio. Das servierte Essen entpuppt sich als Designerfraß, in diesem Ambiente recht unpassend serviert auf eckigen japanischen Tellern. Mein Gegenüber hebt anklagend seine Gabel hoch mit aufgespießten, lapprigen Rindfleischscheiben. Das ist für meinen Begleiter wahrscheinlich Esshardcore: zu viel Olivenöl (er mag keins), Pfifferlinge (er isst nur Champignons) und rohes Rindfleisch (so etwas wie Bauernhof-Sushi).

Ich war ja nicht dabei, aber ich vermute ja, dass es Kernöl war. Ist ja auch grün.





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