Hallelujah

Ah Fukuyama. Ah 1992. Post hoc ergo propter hoc. But just when we think things are turning out one way they go the other. Why, just the other day I calculated that for 370 out of 370 days in a row baby Helga had never once taken a single step and I was thus convinced that she would crawl for the rest of her natural life. Imagine my shock, then, when, after literally hundreds of days of enforcing the proof that it would never happen, she shocked everyone and decided to take some steps (while pushing a table for now, but we all know exactly where this is headed). Last night I fêted our American brethren's Thanksgiving sans family due to Helga's latest Krippe-backed illness and I weeped not just for the turkey's loss of life, but for the psychological pain that was inflicted upon him as each day that the farmer fed him he became more and more convinced that he was his friend. No one could have predicted that, on the day where he had been more sure than ever that the farmer was his friend, he would pick that day to behead him and send him to our Thanksgiving table. What a world it sometimes is.

Advent begins this weekend. Our fourth in Germany. I've written of the Christmas Markets here in Munich, most notably in two highly contrasting posts. The first, unsurprisingly (unsurprisingly only in the context of the bad viewpoint being first, i.e. not unsurprisingly at a broader level like I would be saying "obviously such a thing would be met with this reaction"), met them with derision ("contemptuous mockery", if you will), while the more recent described them in a more shining light. It likely all comes down to the fact that you can get used to nearly anything. One could probably even come to like Toronto if you were forced to live there for long enough (though there must be limits to this particular psychological phenomenon).

"William, need easy appies [sic] for a party?". Such was the subject-line of an e-mail I just received. Sometimes the world is very depressing.

Almost anything can become normal. Living in Germany (of all places), for instance. Drinking coffee. Having pain. Talking to a computer. Taking care of a baby. Advertising referring to frozen processed food as "appies". All kinds of things, is what I'm saying. But I guess you already knew that. Unless you're very young. And that's not impossible because even very young people now can read anything they want. It's actually more exceptional for a twelve year old child to not have a smartphone than the other way around. As LC might say, I've seen the future baby, it is murder.

And so I leave you with the immortal (German) words of LC. Stay crazy, friends.

Ich tat mein Bestes, es war nicht viel
ich konnte nicht fuehlen, also versuchte ich zu beruehren
Ich hab die Wahrheit gesagt, bin nicht gekommen, um dir was vorzumachen
Und obwohl
alles schief lief
werde ich vor dem Herrn des Liedes stehen
mit nichts auf meinen Lippen als einem Hallelujah