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    Value of Freedom

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    This contribution has been in limbo for many months, its first breaths occurred in the height of the pandemic and its lockdowns, but also in the restrictions of partially privatized caution that began to establish themselves between them.

    Somewhat maltreated by the fool's hem of the Covidiots, in whose mirror a deeper recognition and naming of our hard-fought and earned, but of course also stolen reality, despite all criticism and doubts, to value order and security more and, above all, to promote and defend it more.

    Where Covid (secretly now ignored because it is bizarre) deciphers inadequacies and banana republic maneuvers, where everything falls apart as if it were the end times, the thumbscrews of the troubled room of braintrust and ethical dwarfing have been flipped to a new level for a few weeks.

    The next long-awaited surprise for the slowworm of western civilization. The chicken pile of those neglected by wealth.

    Everything is designed as a continuation by very talented screenwriters, the Blue Planet show, which has always been the best amusement in extraterrestrial broadcasting, reaches a new level of storytelling, you can be sure that the Alienbunnygod ratings are exploding out there behind the Kuiper.

    But more or less in other areas of light, depending on need

    Instead

    I want to tell you about Anna, about singed flesh, about traces of Austrian slime and even more about the feeling that nothing can ever be taken for granted in a world in which we allow what we allow, and in which Covid, like Putin's, was only the tip of the iceberg disgusting character weakness and lying greed.

    And if you rub the dismay from your eyes, the Home Sapiens standing naked in front of you, this allergy of the planet, then you can define shocking balances, but once again you have to postpone consequences, live and love with that which defines the present point.

    I mean, just imagine first of all locally that we were still ruled by Kurz and Strache, Kickl had something to say, then the red Heinzi's disgusting caressing orgy gets lost in the bycatch as a twink of a mass murderer, you have to bow to the cheerfulness that we are just a bunch of useless remnants of international importance, with a beautiful capital if everything isn't blocked by the vaginal fungus Rutter and the like.

    That's unfortunate undiplomatic for this mainstreamer and portfolio appearance, but that's also necessary, it's time to choose between decency and being a pig of character, between meandering through and walking upright.

    I tackled this some time ago and laughed at myself but also paid for it with pure loneliness.

    If you only apply a little yardstick, and really only half of your own, and even then hardly anyone is left, Gaddafi's bride is an article on this elsewhere, also from astonishing turns of phrase that nail the province, then you're in the right place , What, loop, puzzling what we tolerate for a little cuddle, as regularly as possible and up to 40 days of vacation.

    The great moralists understand, but I don't want to be one of them, we don't have to push ourselves up anew and at times we're still hesitant and lost in constraints. There's no going forward and no going back.

    We pay in life lies.

    In the Covidioty we made our being into, this became more precise, but we were already successful in resuming our old repression, despite our ignoring charade of a burning biosphere.

    Everything is very much in motion there too, but the backslash of the Greed Generation had already formed. The Blackrock Crippled Toad. And the illusions of my beloved Fridays rebels are almost as gone as Greta's leadership. Glasgow has rechristened itself as a fiasco, and everything else that we are breeding has also been wasted in the trick and cheat heaven of global lobbyists in the service of the elite.

    Gentle Feather, Chieftain of Armageddon Guards

    But then the crazy Russian came along and upped the ante. Even if he were to backtrack now, the biting flesh wounds of the last few days and years will fester and burn until we finally understand that only consistent and efficient action and change, beyond emotional concern, can protect us from our self-fulfilling fears.

    Panic was always a bad advisor, and a humanity at peace that groups itself around decadent packaging-free at Louis Vuitton prices and thinks of it as progress, while children are starving in Yemen and not only there, what should you tell them if they are now trembling in front of a tactical one Nuclear strike snots.

    We can let this emotional chatter flow into a (trans) personal reorganization, shaping the social awakening in a more actively humanistic and yet powerful way.

    The actual price will be the end of the convenience. In exchange for dignity, maybe not so bad.

    Anna

    Details like that don't matter. Shortly after the start of the war, she fled with her friends to Lviv, where far too many German speakers still betray their mindset when they call it Lviv, and is now trying to do what she can in volunteering there to support the resistance and the more helpless.

    I had lost touch with her a bit, I never really understood some things, which also fits in well with the fact that we were only willing to pay attention to Ukraine to a limited extent. It's been Russian Warship Time there since 2014, but the world usually prefers to turn around and on.

    Tonight she warmed one of her chameleons in her lap in the cold of the shelter, she should be able to do this without fear in dancing joy with her lover, by the way, she is staying voluntarily and would have friends and open doors everywhere.

    By the way, she just had Covid, but these little things are not just another report, there are now enough, the intensity of the media avalanche is unbroken and of an almost decadently dynamic totality, what is happening here is the first social media war, even the apolitical banalities of Anonymous hack into history almost heroically, although heroism, this word now probably belongs to the Ukrainian people and those unfortunately very few Russians who allow themselves to be imprisoned for packaging the most harmless criticism of Stop War in **.

    My embarrassment about us here, on the other hand, has reached a new peak when I follow the discussions about oil and gas import bans, so I really prefer to think about Anna and whether our economic growth is sometimes negative.

    Proposal for goodness: wealth taxes like before neoliberalism to cover all the shit and that's good.

    Anna comes from the wonderfully young and modern, smart and free attitude to life of a Ukrainian generation that is more western than we are, and yet is still entitled to have a love of homeland and does not consist of farting in folklore. Under Russian occupiers, as part of the LBGT world, it would probably fare similarly to Femen.

    Of course, for me it is more of a symbol, and of course we are all doing more together than we can to accommodate the largest refugee movement since the Second World War, Europe is growing and those borders are finally being defined that some people have never wanted to respect or understand.

    Even one or two politicians or business leaders are growing beyond themselves, even if so many are being exposed as caricatures. First of all, once again all the quiet, mute artist court jesters and entertainers, Nina Pröll, what do you say to all of this? Lischen, Lischen and you?

    But these are the side notes of the doomscroller, who, following the title, also works out what threatens to disappear in such colorful times.

    It's 1:11 p.m. on any given day, you're slogging through an endless essay, and suddenly things aren't exactly straight anymore. Do you want to plan for next winter, for a new decade? Perhaps this is the most beautiful lesson of all: that we stop practicing illusion strategy.

    Our actual reality, which is only just hatching out of the egg, this confusion of dynamics, the absolute chaos, the godless game of a huge number of players, it is important to understand that the fragile framework of what we managed to draw on paper is so far from any truth will make the future unimaginable.

    A wonderful moment.

    Freedom awaits behind this shift

    My reaction to this is absolutely appropriate, but more about that another time. Freedom has become a very flexible concept; it usually ends when we start talking about money, liquidity and assets. But thankfully the escapes and alternatives in the chaos are just as numerous and remarkable as the wrong turns and losses of what we believe in.

    It's fun to retell things.

    In the midst of all this, in this eruption of the repressed, and we are still far from the end of the madness, a new quality can be discovered, a sometimes speechless beauty of what is happening.

    The aesthetics of postmodern awakening, of the interstellar blossoming of all who begin to surrender to the flow of the unknown.

    Freedom is no longer an insult to its meaning, it is this backpack that Anna's fellow citizens carry, the plastic bag and the oligarch's villa that is now made available to the displaced.

    Like many before him, Mr. Putin wanted evil and invoked good, a parable that repeats itself again and again. Out of longing for love. A lonely old man among lonely old men. Maybe I'll turn off in time.

    We will still be grateful to him and his incel brothers when we look back, they make freedom more noticeable again, especially for those who even Covid didn't wash their heads enough and of course even more concern and reflection can be expected here in Europe while many countries of the world are still in the last century or the century before last, to which the would-be tsar longs to return.

    Many things and the values ​​derived from them are only too happy to be defined in their absence, love, desire, security, intelligence. Freedom is no exception; it is abused to excess.

    An Instagram account.

    A Lonely Planet banality.

    The iron grip of the Mighty Nothing that takes your breath away will teach you that you should pay more respect to existence. Regardless of whether you have 20, 5 or 50 years left to live, you should smile at this simple memory of destruction with the wise answer that you should agree to celebrate.

    And when he loses sight of the situation because of his surprise, he kicks him in the balls.

    I had you

    Promised singed meat, a forgotten rump steak on the grill of sensationalism, a drone controlled into your beliefs, all of this requires add-ons and loops and breading between the lines, we were all dripping together towards apocalypse, the last days of humanity as we knew it.

    But that's okay. We have all become a backdrop. An origami made from Mammon.

    In a sense, we are rubles.

    Because some very smart personalities seem to understand this, it is quite possible that the lid will be put back on the pot again. Ceasefire, peace talks. But I don't just mean this in relation to the Ukraine conflict. But also to the resulting findings, which we will manage away in the same way as we did with the financial crisis, the climate or the pandemic.

    As always in different dimensions, and thankfully, despite an increase in stupidity, there is always an increase in intelligence, evolution and so on.

    The turning point has nothing to do with this mischievous prank from the Kremlin; the honorable Mr. Scholl fits in wonderfully with the German bully, but is historically meaningless.

    The front lines of the psyche of an elite in urgent need of therapy will be more complex than can be explained in short schemata. We are already failing to draw diagrams of the Russian oligarchy. How much more difficult is this when one wants to communicate the true penetration and interconnectedness of all these processes.

    What I like in this multidimensional Go is that the insecure concern of democracy in its shyness from confrontation is, despite everything, almost embarrassingly superior. And that may annoy and displease an anti-capitalist, but it is better than the other way around.

    Sanctions and the pariah status of the Russian steppe, which will go up in flames again this year and can probably expect little help from the despised West, are a fuck-up finger of our potential and I hope that negotiators and handlers of the geopolitical drama will remember and use it more intelligently in the future .

    There is crack in everything Cohen already knew.

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