Short story: The human nature – A Fairy Tale?

A father lived deep in the woods in a small house with his two growing children, a daughter and a son. The mother did not love the woods and had therefore left her husband and children many years ago.

The father taught his children to be one with nature. And so the son knew all the birds that lived in the forest, not only the many species, but also each individual, which he could always recognize by the sound of its personal melody. The daughter loved the trees and she too knew all kinds and every single tree.

The father had once moved his family from the big city to the woods because he believed that it was the big cities that robbed people of their minds and natural instincts, thus inciting destruction and violence.

In seclusion, he wanted to allow himself and his family to become part of nature again, because he hoped that it would be his descendants who could survive the fate of the world. It quickly became too much for the woman. She missed the narrow streets, the crowded markets, the idleness and the noise of the busy city. And so she fled one dark night and never came back.

The man taught the children how to make fire with stones, and which berries, fruits, and mushrooms are edible. And for a while the father lived with the son and daughter in happy and calm harmony. Only the wind occasionally swept through the green treetops and became the accompanying music in the symphony of birdsongs and the whispering, greening and howling of the wild animals.

But the older the children got, the more they bothered about the seclusion in which they lived. Increasingly, they no longer saw the wild nature around them as an asset, but as a constant threat.

The birds shit on their heads, ate the berry bushes and fruit trees bare. At night the ominous cry of the owls robbed them of their sleep. And the trees, bushes and weeds grew closer and closer to the family’s small wooden house with the crooked chimney.

And it seemed to the children as if the forest wanted to slowly and cruelly suffocate them and their house. And so, estranged from the father, both son and daughter conspired, met secretly in the forest clearing near the river and discussed that the father was probably not in his right mind to just let nature happen. And they realized that only those who know how to subjugate nature would survive.

And when the father went out to get food and firewood, the children began to tame, to control, to clean up wild nature. The son showed the daughter how to make a bow out of wood fibers and thin branches. The daughter explained to the brother which flints could be used most efficiently to quickly start a fire.

And every day, punctually when father left the house, they would meet in the forest clearing and together they would plan to shoot as many birds as possible with the bow. And it was not long before the magnificent symphony of the birds over the great, wide forest fell silent forever.

And brother and sister worked hard to carry the many small dead bodies to the forest clearing by the river, where in the late afternoon, before their father returned, they kindled a huge campfire in which they burned the dead birds of the forest in droves. And they couldn’t resist the smell of the simmering, tender meat, so they ate a feast that prevented them developing any appetite later when their father was preparing supper.

But he wasn’t surprised because he firmly believed that modesty always comes when people have found their way back to their original nature.

When there were no more birds in the whole forest, brother and sister hunted mice and rabbits and everything that was small and rustled or squeaked and frightened the siblings. Here, too, they ate and became fuller and fuller every day. But the father, exhausted from his long excursions and almost blind to everything that contradicted his ideals, continued to ignore the changes in his children and the forest.

And now it was only the increased hunger that moved the siblings to kill all the deer and pigs. And at the feast in the clearing by the river, they filled their bellies almost to the point of bursting. But the father, who was getting older and more tired, still didn’t notice any of this. And now the weasels, foxes, and wolves died of their own accord, so that the brother and sister laid aside their bows, because they only had to collect the dead animals.

There were so many that the siblings slept into the afternoon for many weeks and then indulged in gluttony while the father progressively lost his sight and noticed nothing.

Like pigs, brother and sister had become so fat that they had great difficulty making their way through dense undergrowth and over gnarled tree roots to the clearing by the river. And so they decided to clean up the forest and once and for all to remove all vegetation between the house and the forest clearing.

To this end, both set fire to different places. But they completely underestimated the destructive power of the flames. At first only individual trees burned, but then the flames combined and became a raging and violent conflagration, which first completely burned down the house with unspeakable heat and breakneck speed and then took hold of the entire forest. Brother and sister had no choice but to throw themselves into the river and stay there, mostly completely submerged, for two days until the fire died out, until the forest was completely burned down.

And when they emerged from the river, there was only a soot-blackened wasteland with gnarled skeletons crouching on the ground, the sad remnants of what was once the forest. A huge cloud of soot and water vapor covered the sky and the sun, everything was gray and dark and the smell of death and ash filled the air.

And the father? He was on his way back, with bundles of firewood hauling in a cart and bags full of fruit slung over his shoulder, when he saw the blaze racing toward him. He parked the cart and put his bags down. And in that moment he finally realized what had happened. He would never see his children growing adult, other people would never follow the example of his family and found a new dynasty of purer, nature-loving people with his children.

And just before the firestorm reached his body, shattering his head and evaporating his brain, just before his body thereafter completely crumbled to ashes, tears welled up in his eyes and he exclaimed in a hoarse voice, „So this isn’t a brain spectre, it’s indeed human nature, destruction and killing!“

Oh, if only brother and sister had known the way back to the city. But that was far away, and the path was completely burned and turned into a wasteland. The siblings had little strength left to anticipate and mourn the death of their father.

They laboriously built a small, shabby hut out of the burnt ruins of the house, in which they lived together in a very small space from then on. It wasn’t long before the brother knew every moss and lichen, while the sister knew every stone and every dry waterhole in this forest desert. And so they ate mosses and lichens, which they crushed to pulp with all kinds of suitable stones. And they drank the water from the shrunken river, which was more like thick, foul-smelling slime.

Both, brother and sister, grew thin as spindles, and days turned into months and months into years. Since we are in the year 2085 and cold winters have long since ceased to exist even far from the equator, the former forest slowly turned into a real desert of sand and stone. The rare rain filled the riverbed just enough for brother and sister to drink. Mosses had become rare. And so the siblings were eating lichens and the putrid bank mud of the river, when a dispute arose among the siblings over the privilege of eating.

So they divided the one shabby hut into two shabby huts, which they built along the river bank at a suitable distance from each other, so as to remain close to their feeding grounds but as far away from each other as possible. But occasional quarrels were not absent. Ultimately, the initial quarrel turned into deep anger, and then abysmal hatred. The brother, now a man, began throwing heavy stones at the sister whenever she tried to approach the succulent heap of putrid riverweed and filthy mud he had first spotted.

But the sun shone relentlessly and hot winds sanded the desert landscape more and more. The bed of the river shrank, and the huts of the quarreling scrawny siblings inevitably drew nearer and nearer to one another. In the end, the brother saw no other way out than to burn down the sister’s hut, whereupon she grabbed an old, rusty and long nail and drove it right into the brother’s skull.

She buried her dead brother where the forest clearing had once been, and yes, she shed a tear in the process. And more tears followed, day after day and month after month. After another year, the sister died, not of hunger, nor of thirst or a force of nature, but of loneliness. How can you go on living when there isn’t even someone to hate, she thought just before closing her eyes forever. Her body crumbled to dust that the wind carried up into the air. And the dust became one with the ashes of the forest and those of the father, and finally fell down on the brother’s grave. In the end there was nothing left but the desert.

© all copyrights (text, idea, drawings) by Stefan F Wirth, Berlin, 3 January 2023

New Year 2023, a further step into our future

It is important to follow the progress of time, to constantly develop further and to remain curious and emotional. At least, that's my idea of basic happiness in life.

Basically, there is no need for a specific point in time like New Year's Eve to decide on a bigger step forward, on new ideas, new projects and the processing of all the older ones, while also leaving enough space for an own experiencing of humanity, empathy and commitment.

But the beginning of the year, with its solemn tradition and thanks to the blaring staccato and howl of the firecrackers and bangers, almost forcefully calls us to wonder what we will experience in the new year. I am happy to indulge in this kind of thoughtfulness that is somehow predetermined. It seems to help  to additionally making use of this specific moment, once a year at the same time, in winter, at night, in the dark. A repeating and somehow well known environment offers more space for free and productive new thoughts.
 
Life is not a passive current, it can be shaped. I never want to stop learning, discovering, getting excited by the phenomena of nature, the world, the idea of a bright future and being inspired in my work. I see the future as an experience that I can only successfully go through based on what I learned from each of all the many days of my so far life. 

In my sense, I can only experience the future through steady personal progress based on the progress of my past. Also in the new year I have the need to recognize, to feel, to participate, to discover, to observe, to experiment and to communicate. I don't want to get tired, my strength will continue to flow out of myself to a large extent. I will be awake, want to be productive,  want to be there as the future gradually becomes the present in 2023. And I will and want to help shape this emerging present like a single powerful ant worker in its ant nest with my strength, with my individual contributions. 

I wish everyone a prosperous and peaceful New Year 2023.

© Stefan F Wirth, 1 January 2023

Impeachment, low-carb diet and sexy cities, buzzwords in a modern hipster world: a grotesque and purely fictional short story

This short story is entirely fictional. But it is inspired by many different conversations I had, both: with male and female conversation partners.

Restaurant

I am sitting in a small Asian restaurant in Berlin together with a woman around my age. I know her from many years ago, when we stayed in a closer normal-friendship-contact with each other for a while. I remembered her as small, slender and with a conspicuous nose. Those times were good times, I memorized her as original, spontaneous and with an own mind. I was curious, how such a character would have grown within a period of almost twenty years. Hence I arranged that meeting.

Restaurant conversation scene, oil on canvas, copyrights Stefan F. Wirth, Berlin December 2019

She is still small and lean, but her aquiline nose even grew and now throws a permanent shadow over her narrow lips. At the second third of its entire length her nasal bridge forms a pointed hunch, bringing her nasal tip in a position, where it can almost touch her upper lip. Against the light, a small and thin almost invisible moustache takes over the function of a spacer between the headed downwards nasal tip and the upper rim of her upper jaw lip.

Career and USA stay

She optically didn’t change so much, except of that much bigger nose. But her character changed. She talks a lot for the talking’s sake and seems unable to bring any of her spoken thoughts to an end, as if she permanently needs to prove the multitasking capacity of her brain, which externally is covered by a loose ponytail of black and dense curled hair. Her eager multitasking demonstrations fail from start to finish, but I can capture some information out of the muddle of her synaptic interconnections. What did she do in her past? She studied one of these university programs, which are considered by natural scientists at least as being in a general tendency still a kind of academic. She then intended to begin a phd thesis, but alleged corruption made her depart from that notion. She instead became a business woman and while twaddling about her career, she creates a reliable picture of her well developed business acumen.

And she knows the United States, because she was there. Almost an entire year, and when she uses the term „USA“ again and again, she each time leans her body pleasantly relaxed to her chair back. She then lifts her face up and closes her eyes to narrow slots, the lips pressed against each other, while her elongated nostrils open slowly to inhale as much air as possible in one delightful breath.

She slowly gets in her pink of condition, her nippy hands flail through the air, and for a short moment she changes the topic and describes an unusually shaped penis, which she once saw, as a humorous non-recurring slip of the wittiness in her younger days.

Buzzwords

And suddenly she says THE word for her first time during our encounter: Impeachment. Impeeeeeaaachmeeent! Her glabellar frown lines emerge between her cropped eyebrows, quivering lips, her nasolabial wrinkles bend outwards and her hands draw a thick circle in the air. Impeachment, since some time a common buzzword in the world of hipsters. The general political context is clear, a procedure, which in the recent case might indeed be deserved. But what is her context? She repeats it several times, only the same one word, impeachment, impeachment, impeachment. I intently try to follow her thread, but only find a frayed ball of wool. Impeachment, an isolated statement through itself, no explanation needed.

She caws the word again, ‚impeeeeeaaachment‘, and while her lips open in order to allow her incisors on both jaws to remove from each other to form a gap for the tip of her tongue, when pronouncing the last letter ‚ttttttttt‘, her shoulders tremble, and her nasal wings on both sides begin to inflate slightly.

Normally the via nose inhaled air would be pressed into the lungs for the gas exchange, but the I-word obviously created such a frenetic mood in her brain that she accidentally interrupts the normal way of air flow and presses it immediately out through her nasal orifices again, still in fresh, non oxidised conditions, where it appears, well audibly and visibly, contaminated with mucous membrane secretions, creating a foamy and slimy mass, which squirts from there directly to the clean polished white edge of her plate.

Silence, I don’t know what to say and watch her tiny slime lumps, forming microscopic small threads, slowly and one after another melting down to the white table cloth. I think I should take the chance of this unique little moment to comment her impeachment topic. There is a US president, who is accused of corruption and electoral manipulation by even influencing the internal political competition in other countries. But isn’t he additionally and non officially also accused for his character, his private life style and also for his unfiltered direct way of public communication, in which he not rarely mixes up his personal opinions with his political objectives? Also his conservative and nationalistic policy line periodically is focus of criticism. Thus impeachment kills two birds with one stone, it defends the rule of law and eliminates political opponents.

What did his predecessor Barack Obama know about cruel injustice during military operations in Iraq and Afghanistan since 2009? Another interesting point is the Ferguson unrest in 2014 as consequence of the shooting of Michael Brown as the biggest racial riots since the Martin Luther King era in the USA, did the black president do enough to guarantee more equality to all people? But there was no impeachment procedure against him. Why? Because he was holding his public office with less infringements? Or does an impeachment procedure depend on how pleasant the way of smiling of a president is? Too popular questions? I agree, it cannot be ruled out at this point. On the other hand I need to signalize her somehow my interest in her topic. I decide to ask her a question, but then pause, when I notice that even she herself is not interested in talking about her topic. Buzzwords are to be used not to be discussed.

My plan was to ask her, whether Donald Trump did at least a good job in the de-escalation of the North Korea conflict. But she already changed her topics to create bridges for the use of her further buzzwords. She first is chatting about food and her low carb diet, and actually discusses German traditions, such as the Munich beer festival or the carnival in Cologne, with herself. She uses this context to introduce her latest buzzword: „sexy“. A biologist needs in such a case to play a very close attention. Sexy? No, no, she doesn’t talk about human mating behaviors and reproduction, she is indeed talking about her feelings for a specific German city. Just another buzzword that modern hipsters have to have used at least once in their conversations. Sexy means then nothing else than very nice or very useful.

I am nevertheless trying to follow her threads, but cannot contribute much to them, when she suddenly lifts her head up, her eyes open widely and glow, and her glance fixes me, provoking and demanding for attention. Her plait flies in the air, while the corners of her mouth tremor with excitement, the index finger of her right hand running tetchily over her pointed chin. She takes a deep breath, obviously being strained based on a mix of anticipation and eagerness. No doubt, she intends to say something meaningful.

„It totally exasperates me, when people entering or leaving a subway train do not follow any rules at all. They should understand that the compliance of a fixed order would reduce long waiting times and great uneasiness.“ She is seemingly indeed waiting for an answer, her eyes are asymmetrically moving up and down, while obviously expecting my comment of consent. And it could be of course an interesting topic for a constructive conversation, considering aspects of the chaos theory, according to which a spontaneous order can under certain conditions emerge out of a seeming chaotic situation, such as people moving towards each other in an generally uncontrolled traffic scenery.

But she obviously doesn’t want to discuss about scientific theories, but simply seeks confirmation. Confirmation for being a city hipster, very well experienced in urban transport systems, in contrast to a rural hipster, who doesn’t even know how to pronounce the term „subway“.

The Fly

I instead decide to go to the bathroom, while she is eating like a harvester to gain enough nutrients to survive her hipsterish low-carb diet. The bathroom is small and poorly lit, and the air inside is filled with the scent of cheap urinal-freshening blocks, distributing the odour of malodorous and rotten lemon fruits. I look into the mirror, consisting of cracked old glass, and discover a tiny fly, shimmering in a pleasant metallic green like a valuably polished sapphire would shine out of the dark at nightfall. It is diligently rubbing its forelegs against each other and says no word.

Suddenly the fly gracefully tilts its head forward and uses the stout and thorned tibial hitch ends of the same forelegs to purge the area behind its deep red compound eyes. While doing so, it still remains silent as if it were a rehearsed mime artist. Seemingly after a small eternity, the green bottle fly fills its wing venation with blood.

And while it flies up in the air with a short jerky movement, the dipteran mercilessly breaks the beneficial silence with its monotonous trembling and squeaky voice, saying out loud, what most flies use to say, when seeking attention and confirmation without any meaningful profundity: „bzzzzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz“. The garrulous insect performs two or three elegant laps closely below the ceiling and then disappears inside the heavily incrusted ceramic basin of the next urinal. On the mirror surface remains nothing but a tiny ochre-colored flyspeck, which only for a short moment reflects the dim overhead light, before it completely dries out to an unspectacular powdery small spot. One among many older others, spoiling the mirror glass like a skin rash, reminders of the many generations of green bottle flies that lived inside this musty courtyard toilet room.

Fly, oil on canvas, copyrights Stefan F. Wirth, Berlin December 2019

Berlin, December 2019, copyrights Stefan F. Wirth

Die neue Salonfähigkeit geschickt frisierter Neonazis, die ihre eigene Sprache nicht beherrschen

Eine wohl dosierte Portion aus Fremdenhass, rechtem Patriotismus, naiver Weltanschauung, gepaart mit einer fröhlichen Neigung zu populistischen Verschwörungstheorien und nationalsozialistischer Rhetorik, wird vorwiegend in ländlichen Regionen unseres schönen Landes zunehmend zu einem Menü intellektueller Verblödung, das man nicht mehr aus Scham verbergen muss.

 

 

Ein demaskierter reptiloider Unruhestifter, der es auf die deutsche Rechtschaffenheit abgesehen hat, Urheberrecht des Fotos: Stefan F. Wirth

 

Blick in die dunklen Abgründe unserer Erdenscheibe, Urheberrecht Foto: Stefan F. Wirth

 

 

Keine Macht den Reptiloiden, die absichtlich Sachen in unser Land rein holen, die wir nicht kennen und auch nicht mögen

 

 

Da werden absichtlich Schwerverbrecher und Vergewaltiger nach Deutschland importiert, sagen wir „rein gelassen“, um das Idyll aus deutscher Rechtschaffenheit und Nächstenliebe ein für alle mal zu zersetzen. Nur eine versiffte linke Weichbirne käme auf den Gedanken, zu fragen, welche geheimen Mächte all diese Fäden führen und vor allem warum. Nein, mit primitiver Hinterfragung und versiffter Antifa-Rhetorik braucht man einem braunen Schrumpfhirn von heute wahrlich nicht zu nahe zu treten. Schließlich weiß doch jeder, dass es die außerirdischen Reptiloide sind, die versteckt in jenem dunklen Höhlenlabyrinth zwischen der oberen und der unteren Erdenscheibe hausen, die aus blanker extraterrestrischer Bösartigkeit heraus das naturgegeben reine und friedfertige Idyll deutscher Bräsigkeit mit einer ungeheuerlichen Katastrophe überziehen, nämlich der Veränderung von Dingen, die doch seit jeher gleich geblieben waren. Also zumindest seit jenen Zeiten, in denen der Besitzer des jüngst versteigerten schwarzen Faltzylinders noch das Sagen hatte.

 

Links-rot-grün versiffte Zero-Hirne

 

 

Das ist doch alles glasklar und bedarf keiner weiteren konstruktiven Nachfrage stinkender links-roter Zero-Hirne. So kryptisch wie die Hieroglyphen-gleichen Muster der bedrohlichen Chemtrails am Himmel, mit denen uns die fiesen Reptilien-Aliens ihre vernichtenden Absichten unter Beweis stellen, erscheint dem aufgeweckten deutschen Neu-Nazi allerdings leider zunehmend das Wirrwarr der eigenen Sprache, die dem aufrechten Alemannen mit ihren Regeln der Orthographie, der Grammatik und der Zeichensetzung geradezu den letzten Funken Verstand rauben kann. Zum Glück ein sehr geringer Diebstahl, der gut zu verschmerzen ist, solange man noch stolz und mit erhobener Brust laut genug ausrufen kann: Tod den Reptiloiden, die immer mehr Sachen rein holen, die wir nicht kennen und auch nicht verstehen! Wir haben das perfide Spiel durchschaut, das uns weismachen will, dass Ausländer mit andren Hautfarben gleichwertige Menschen seien und es auf unserer schönen Erdenscheibe ein durch menschliche Emmissionen veränderliches Klima oder gar einen Treibhauseffekt gäbe (Dreibhausefegd, Traubhaußeffekht, Draibhaussäphegght??? Egal!).

 

Untrüglicher Nachweis ihrer Existenz: brauner Reptiloiden-Kot auf einem Stein, Urheberrecht Foto: Stefan F. Wirth

 

German written article against right-winged ideologies.

 

Copyrights Stefan F. Wirth, Berlin November 2019

 

Eine absurde Bestrafung für den Tatbestand der Geschichtsverfälschung?

Im alltäglichen Leben muss grob zwischen zwei verschiedenen Formen von Thesen unterschieden werden: Die einen sind durch nachprüfbare Fakten begründet, die anderen durch Glauben. Die Existenz eines christlichen Gottes und der wundersame Niedergang des Heiligen Geistes über die Jünger Jesu Christi gehören dabei eindeutig zu Letzterem.

Nun ist in der deutschen Gesetzgebung ein Paragraph verankert, der die so genannte Volksverhetzung unter Strafe stellt. Wo jedoch beginnt jene strafbare Hetze? Die Grauzone ist groß. Überschritten wird sie ganz eindeutig durch die absurde Behauptung, die über den Religionsunterricht an Kinder weitergegeben wird, eine Jungfrau irgendwo im heutigen Israel habe vor rund 2020 Jahren in Form einer Jungfernzeugung ein Kind durch Gott empfangen. Dieses Kind sei schließlich im Erwachsenenalter zum Tode durch Kreuzigung verurteilt worden, hernach jedoch von den Toten auferstanden.

Die Lehre im Zusammenhang mit dieser fantasievollen Hokuspokus-Geschichte wird auch heute noch ungehindert an deutschen Schulen, Universitäten und kirchlichen Einrichtungen gelehrt. Opfer dieser Volksverhetzung sind vor allem Kinder, die aufgrund ihrer nicht vorhandenen Lebenserfahrung besonders leicht vom Wahrheitsgehalt eines Märchens überzeugt werden können. Und doch bestraft niemand die Verantwortlichen wegen des Vergehens der Volksverhetzung .

Märchen kann jeder fantasiebegabte Mensch leicht erfinden, durch klare Fakten gestützte Hypothesen aufzustellen, das hingegen erfordert besondere Erfahrung und ein adäquates Bildungsniveau.

Jeder könnte beispielsweise die frei erfundene Hypothese verbreiten, in Berliner Wäldern gäbe es keine Eichen. Niemand würde dieser Lüge jedoch besondere Beachtung schenken, denn alle kundigen Berliner können das Gegenteil leicht beweisen, in dem sie einfach die nächst beste Eiche durch geeignete Mittel dokumentieren.

Es unterscheidet allerdings die deutsche Gesetzgebung im Unterschied zur Biologie ganz klar zwischen Pflanze, Tier und Mensch. Wenn also Ursula Haverbeck (87) eine absurde Geschichte erfindet, die der törichten Leugnung der Existenz Berliner Eichen im Grunde sehr ähnlich ist, gehen die möglichen Konsequenzen ihres Aktivismus jedoch deutlich über diejenigen aus meinem Baum-Beispiel hinaus. Denn hier sind die Opfer der Falschbehauptung nicht Pflanzen, sondern reale Menschen. Es könnte nämlich Menschen geben, die Haverbecks Geschichten Glauben schenken, ohne nach den zugrunde liegenden Fakten überhaupt nur zu fragen. Im Falle der Holocaust-Leugnung durch Frau Haverbeck könnte es also geschehen, dass leichtgläubige Zuhörer und Leser ihrer Vorträge und Publikationen die Nicht-Existenz des Holocaust als wahre Tatsache missinterpretieren und somit einer ethnischen Volksgruppe, den Juden nämlich, konkretes Unrecht zufügen. Wäre nämlich der Holocaust in Zeiten des deutschen Nationalsozialismus kein historischer Fakt, hätte man zahllose Menschen zu Unrecht für ihre Beteiligung an diesem frei erfundenen Holocaust bestraft. Eine wichtige treibende Kraft der Holocaust-Verfahren waren jüdische Kläger und jüdische Zeitzeugen. Gemäß der Haverbeck’schen Thesen wären diese dann nicht Opfer und rechtmäßige Kläger, sondern menschenverachtende Täter.

Frau Haverbeck erklärt also unschuldige Menschen zu Verbrechern gegen die Menschlichkeit, was ihre frei erfundene Holocaust-Leugnung ganz grundsätzlich zu einem sehr folgenschweren Vergehen macht. Und dennoch ist Haverbeck’sches Gedankengut durchaus gut mit meinem Beispiel der Leugnung der Berliner Eichenbestände vergleichbar. Nämlich durch die leichte Widerlegbarkeit einer fantastischen Behauptung.  Hinsichtlich seiner schwerwiegenden Konsequenzen für heute lebende Menschen ist das Gedanken-Konstrukt Haverbecks allerdings eher den christlichen Wunder-Dichtungen ähnlich. Wer tatsächlich dem spirituellen Mumpitz Glauben schenkt, mit dessen Erfindung der Vatikan in Rom seit beinahe zweitausend Jahren befasst ist, der geht auch davon aus, dass Masturbation eine Sünde und gleichgeschlechtliche Liebe wider Gottes Willen sei oder dass die Frau dem Manne Untertan sein und jeder Andersgläubige in der Hölle schmoren müsse. Der religiöse Wahn kann nicht anders, als Unwissen, Unfriede, Misstrauen und Hass in der menschlichen Gemeinschaft zu schüren. Und doch hilft dagegen nicht, die Verantwortlichen ins Gefängnis zu schicken.

Stattdessen muss die Glaubensbereitschaft in der deutschen Gesellschaft durch eine bessere Bildung verringert werden. Bildung ist dabei zu definieren als durch Fakten begründete Erkenntnis. Es ist eine moderne Geisteshaltung in der Bevölkerung erforderlich, die nicht nach Glauben, sondern nach Wissen fragt. Seriöses Wissen kann sich immer nur auf nachprüfbare Argumente stützen.

Warum also Frau Haverbeck ins Gefängnis schicken, wo doch ihre Holocaust-Leugnung so leicht zu widerlegen ist wie die Existenz der Berliner Eichen aus meinem Beispiel für eine nicht belegbare und daher unseriöse Hypothese?

Statt mit fundierter Aufklärung auf ihre willkürlichen Thesen zu reagieren, verurteilt man Haverbeck aufgrund eines dogmatischen Gesetzes. Der Holocaust ist aber kein Dogma, sondern eine belegbare historische Tatsache. Dies der Bevölkerung immer wieder im Detail vorzuführen ist doch wesentlich hilfreicher, als ein mittelalterlicher Hexenprozess in moderner Zeit.

 

Copyrights Stefan F. Wirth, September 2016