In 1995 no one could have dreamed of the future that will one day be. The fibrillation column by Josef Winkler from the ME issue 05/2023.
So much trouble everywhere. All this aggravation ain’t satisfactioning me! That’s why I have some poetry for you today to get you started and to wind down. A poem. Self written. I call it “The Super Bowl”. So please Ready? Here we go.
THE SUPERBOWL
The superbowl / that can mowl me.
Yes, that’s it, we don’t have any space to give away here. In addition, I’m just now realizing that this innocent poetry also harbors potential for conflict. There is a certain grumpy undertone that cannot be ignored when the author asks unspoken questions like: Are you really stupid to let yourself be caught by this stupid commercial carnival every year and everyone wags you off, what? because it will probably be happening in the HALFTIME SHOW and what sensational “ads” the advertising exploitation industry will have produced again (Future II, thank you very much).
Get a life folks! Don’t you have anything to do?
They only make them EXTRA for this event, they are real little films! Wow. Real. Hello? COMMERCIALS? The Cannes role or what? I find it so 90s-basement that I’m somehow enthusiastic about COMMERCIAL SPOTS, so I’d rather voluntarily watch a Schlager revival with Dieter Tomas Kuhn before I look at the social washing clog from some rubber shoe seller. And then adults are sitting there at 4 a.m. with shining eyes… What’s going on? Get a life folks! Don’t you have anything to do? Then come by, you can paint my boat! Figuratively speaking. I don’t have a boat, and Gunter Gabriel’s was messed up by the abominable Mr. Kliemann and his willing executor Olli Schulznnaaarrrgghh!!
You’ll notice, that was nothing to do with coming down. As well as? Yes, I would like to say: anyone who can still calm down these days just hasn’t recognized the seriousness of the situation. I’ve thought about it, I’ll only wear black now, as long as the FDP is allowed to sit in government and Alice Schwarzer is allowed to sit on talk shows. But alas… And this youth! “The slash is back in now!”, writes the layouter, she has put a deleted slash back into an intro. “Haha! Like Guns N’ Roses!” I reply. Kicked out in 1995, the Slash – if you had known back then that it would be back in 28 years later, you might have congratulated yourself on using the future tense correctly again, but you wouldn’t have believed that Guns N’ Roses would be there in 28 years , Slash and possibly the world still exists…
“Guns N’ Roses? slash? It doesn’t ring, does it?” “No, not really,” she writes. Those young people! Don’t know anything anymore! I don’t even want to know what potential halftime super bull the poor girl watches in her free time. She’s more into Paul Simon and Cat Stevens, she writes. And I say, “Oh.”
This column first appeared in the Musikexpress issue 05/2023.