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PHILLIP MAUSSHARDT about GOSSIP
The Actual Disaster
If there is a big bang somewhere, i pack the small travveling bag
Fun is not the correct word. Really not. One does not feel fun at the sight of corpses or destroyed houses. But desire and fear are really close relatives. Perhaps therefore natural catastrophes fascinate me so much.
I cannot get enough of pictures, which show the strength of the destruction, how the wave comes, how she drags everything along that is left afterwards.
How often have I looked at the two airplanes, as they raced into the multistoried buildings and then came out on the other side as fire balls. Now I sit in front of the television again. Unfortunately.
I would rather be in new Orleans or one of the other places concerned. Like at every time of the Oder flood, like with the earthquake in the San Giuliano or as with the Tsunami. Still nearly at every larger natural catastrophe the telephone rang and I had the luck of being allowed to travel to the place of the happening, to "locus horribilis", there, where Schauder seizes me. A beautiful, an old word: Schauder. Schauder and idyl, another two close relatives.
(Schauder = verb, something you do when you see tragedy that doesnt involve you)
Why do some humans gladly roam on cemeteries at night? Why do some humans enjoy "Tatort (crime scene, german tv series)"?
I find it completely normal that disaster crowds obstruct traffic, and I never understood why it is mentioned with such a subtext of disrespect in the traffic radio.
Until today i am tempted to follow the sound of every siren in order to look what happened. I am a Gaffer (tragedy voyeur, don't know the american word) and through my press pass i even have a license to be. Therefore my small disaster traveling bag always stands packed in the cabinet: two pants, two t-Shirts, two pair socks, Jeans and toothbrush. In five minutes I am usually ready to go. I need only fifteen minutes up to the airport. I live extremely disaster-favorably.
But this time it did not ring: New Orleans is easier from to reach from elsewhere. There are sufficient reporters in place. Thus i only look television, , like everyone else, and i am a little annoyed when friends ask me: "Why are you still here?"
For me the true disaster is not to be there myself.
Most wont remember the war of 70/71 (1800), where the Germans made the French suffer a crushing defeat. But my grandfather had kept all the little flags, medals, tin cups and hero remembering books of his father. In his civilian life he still carried this badges on him to show everyone: "I participated."
Such a little badge "Dresden Flood" or "Avalanche Galtür" or even "Landslide Talheim" i would put on me like a medal. People would see me and think: That's how heros look like.
Nobody would regard me as a Gaffer. Once I even was faster than the disaster and already there before it. Perhaps one develops a seventh sense for the unexpected with the years.
Anyhow I flew to the Paznauntal/Tirol with the helicopter in that avalanche winter 1999 - and I wasn't there for five hours, when the soil began to tremble and a fog of dust and snow fulfilled air. 31 humans died in the avalanche at that time.
The fascination of the force of nature and the compassion with the victims get along fine.
In my chest, even joy and compassion beat at the same time. Thus momentarily I am pleased about the fact that the recent storm disaster met not again any poor country, but the richest nation of the earth, for example. Yes, I even see some kind of compensatory justice for what the inhabitants of this country did to the inhabitants of Iraq with their war. It would however still please me more, if I knew that only houses of Bush voters and army members would have been destroyed. For everyone else, i am sincerely sorry.
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americanbychoice2, when you translated the thing did you not have the idea that the perverted way in which P. Mausshardt describes his character could mean he does NOT talk about himself, but describes a certain kind of people he despises?
Most wont remember the war of ___________________, where the Germans made the French suffer a crushing defeat. (Fill in the blank with any war you want)........
It's really written in a Stones "Sympathy for the Devil" kind of way, isn't it?
I appreciate the complete translation. Nevertheless, I don't really see the subtext, perhaps. He loves being a disaster-tourist, and his job allows him to be one. OK so far, I even sympathize I guess, I'm a news-junkie, and it would be grand to be paid for what I gladly do for free.
But the last paragraph is pretty transparently clear. He doesn't like us. And thats fine, the feeling is mutual.
As for compassion, he can keep it. We're Americans. We're fine. We appreciate any prayers and sympathy a friend may offer. If you're not a friend, though, really, we're busy right now, we don't have a lot of time for people like him.