Milch für den Milliardär (German Edition)

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Hat dieser Unterschied etwas zu bedeuten? Sind es verschiedene Glaubensrichtungen? Vielen Dank! Aber das ist es doch nicht, oder? Ich habe eube eMail an eine nicht existiernde Adresse geschickt. Speichert man beispielsweise ein Microsoft Word-Dokument. Bei mir steht jedoch nicht bei dieser Textstelle. Was muss man einstellen, dass dann in dieser Zeile mein Name steht?

Diese habe ich bis jetzt in einigen Artikeln gesehen. Bist du dir sicher? An alle Schmuckliebhaber: Welche Unterschiede bestehen zwischen den beiden Objekten? Gangsterkomodien sind etwas anderes als Gangsterfilme. Es gibt da wirklich viele gute - gerade unter den Klassikern. Wer kennt dazu bedeutende Filme? Topkapi, da wird ein Museum in Ankara ausgeraubt. Meine da war Peter Ustinov drin. Audrey Hepburn u. In beiden geht es allerdings ebenfalls um Museums-Diebe. Danke schonmal, Ingo -- Ein Unterschied ist also durchaus vorhanden. Premature optimization is the root of all evil Donald Knuth.

Hast du ein Performanceproblem? Hast du nachgewiesen, dass es diese Schleife ist? Wenn du beide Fragen mit ja beantworten kannst, probiere beide Varianten aus und bestimme den Unterschied. Das ist der einzig richtige Ansatz. Warum schaffte der Compiler das nicht, ist es sein Fehler, oder meiner fehlendes const, Zweitens: Hat die charakterisitische Deckenkonstruktion Nachahmer gefunden? Stimmt das? Muss das Impressum von jeder Seite direkt erreichbar sein? Welche Informationen muss es beinhalten? Was ist Hobby-Horse bzw. Dann verbraucht er in der Zeit des Rollens nix. Beim Neukauf eines Autos ist auch ein Tempomat sinnvoll, der hilft auch Sprit sparen.

Bei Bildern geht dies normalerweise nicht. Warum geht es aber bei den Bildern auf zdf. Danke im Vorraus. Ich erinnere mich auch gerade daran, dass mir das auch mal passiert ist. Handfeuerwaffen verwendet werden? Ich habe am Dienstag den Artikel "Kasseler Kreis" eingestellt und finde ihn seither nicht. Ich kann weder Induktionsschleifen noch Lichtschranken oder Radarantennen entdecken Laser vielleicht?

Heute bewegt mich schon wieder so eine Frage. Wie subtrahiert man eine Gleichung von der anderen? Aber ganze Gleichungen subtrahieren, das sagt mir nichts. Konkret muesste ich grade mal wissen, wie die norwegische Krone stand Ich brauch die Info dringend. Der en. Unter dessen war die ganze Leitung des damaligen Widerstandes.

Gibts doch dieses Video davon. Danke schonmal. Ein kleiner Tipp von mir: Schreiben lassen lieber sein, ein Buch du. Wer kann folgende Frage beantworten: Wieso wird Beethovens 9. Sinfonie als "die Unvollendete" bezeichnet, obwohl er lt. Der vorstehende, nicht signierte Beitrag stammt von Oder bestand hier eine Trennung?

Hallo,habe ein problem. Apr -- PvQ Bewertung - Portal , Wenn du unter Windows arbeitest, kannst du die hosts -Datei verwenden. Hi, wir haben heute Name, Stadt, Land, Fluss gepsielt. Es fiel der Buchstabe Q und keiner wusste ein Land mit Q. Nun meine Frage, da Recherche nichts ergab! Gibt es ein Land mit dem Anfangsbuchstaben Q? Ich bin ein Mann und lasse mir gerade lange Haare wachsen. Jetzt ist das Haar gerade in der Phase, wo es mir andauernd im Gesicht rumfliegt und das nervt ziemlich. In welcher Region auf dieser Welt das z.

Ich trag die Haare seit 30 Jahren lang; Leute, das ist doch keine Mode! Bewerte mich! Vorne sehen die ganz normal aus,aber hinten sind Gravierungen mit der Aufschrift Bundesrepublik Deutschland. Schon repariert! Bitte in Zukunft dazuschreiben, in welchem Artikel sich sowas befindet, dann gehts ein bisserl schneller! Na, das ging ja super schnell! Schade nur, dass ich diesen Enneagramm-Test, auf den der Link verweisen sollte, nun nicht machen kann.

Wo kann ich mich da schlau machen? Hab hier ja noch nie was gemacht. Spontan fiel mir z. MyVideo ein. Sevenload , Clipfish , Google Video , DailyMotion , Veoh , GoFish Wo bleibt der Gewinn? Ein Prof. Katja ist die Koseform von Katharina. Laut Artikel sind aber Karin und Karen auch beliebte japanische Namen. Namen sind in diesem Fall etwas "gewagt" Sind meine Annahmen falsch oder habe ich dich nicht richtig verstanden?

Sie sehen aus wie zwei Kameras die einander zugewand sind. Es gibt eine Version, wo die "Kameras" auf einem Metalgestell etwa 2 m voneinander entfernt sind. Die Anlage ist paralell zur Fahrbahn. Wird da irgendwas gemessen? Was ist das? Erno Mahler. Steht eigentlich alles in Vatikanstadt , oder? Tagesspiegel vom 5.

Allerdings habe ich in Friedrichshafen irgendwann schon mal ein quer montiertes Andreaskreuz gesehen, fragt mich bitte nicht welchen Sinn das haben sollte. Bitte eine ernste Antwort und keine Links auf irgendwelche Seiten -- Pascal , Kann es sein, dass ich mich bei den Tieren angesteckt habe? Hat sie recht? Da gibt es wahrlich bessere Quellen als die Wikipedia Gestern habe ich gesehen und nun folgende Frage: Ich bin bisher davon ausgegangen, dass die Bewohner von Sparta "Spartaner" heissen.

Oder sind "Spartiaten" und "Spartaner" Synonyme? Den Bon hat sie verloren und als Nachweis nur den Kontoauszug, auf dem ersichtlich ist, dass sie mit Karte "irgendetwas" dort bezahlt hat. Ich kann aber bezeugen, dass sie die Uhr dort gekauft hat. Irgendwie habe ich das nie fehlerfrei geschafft. Woran kann das liegen? Oder ein Virus? Wenn ein Virus, wo ist er dann? Wollte sicherheitshalber mal nachfragen Gibt's die?

Danke -- Bapho , Als Port muss ich wohl nutzen. Hat jemand eine Idee? Darf ich Zeitungsausschnitte einscannen bzw. Liebe Auskunft, wir kommen hier seit Tagen bei einer Skatspielaufgabe die 2. Vielen Dank im Voraus. Musicsciencer Beware of the dog In den Zeugenstand Mein Ex-Freund ist vor rund 5 Monaten ins Ausland gefahren. Wir haben mittlerweile den Kontakt abgebrochen.

Weiss einer von euch wie man sowas herausfindet? Ich wuerde es als erstes mal mit einer Auskunft beim Einwohnermeldeamt probieren. Botschaft, Steuerlisten etc. Ach ja: Wenn es um Geld geht - ab zum Anwalt! Beispiel: "Alle Kinder sitzen rund ums Lagerfeuer. Nur nicht Brigitte - die sitzt in der Mitte".

Hier treiben sich doch sicher ein paar Sprachexperten herum, die sich dort doch bitte mal melden sollen. Jedoch nur in den USA. Nun meine Frage: warum istz es das nicht auch bei uns? Was sind die Vor- bzw. Nachteile der beiden Backpulverarten. Wie ist das Backpulver z. Worrier , Stimmt es. Soweit ich sehe jein.

Seit der Glorious Revolution sind denn auch Katholiken prinzipiell von der Thronfolge ausgeschlossen, siehe britische Thronfolge. Ich hatte das auch schonmal bei Opera und dem WP-Suchfeld. Sicherlich Post , Oder anders gefragt: Ist die Schreibweise mit e oder i richtig - projezieren oder projizieren? So auch "rezipieren" und "Rezeption".

Wenn man dem Augeschein trauen darf, brechen bei Stufe 1 und 2 die Blasen im Wasser zusammen. Oder gar Wikipedia-Artikel unter einem Lemma, auf das ich nicht komme. Rainer Z Leider konnte ich ihr keine eindeutige Antwort geben. Was meint ihr dazu? Geht das so einfach ohne zu "Einzuheiraten"? Soll also heissen: Ohne Job, Rente oder eigene Firma wirst du hier nicht reinkommen So leicht kann man also missverstanden werden. Ich habe das wohl etwas undeutlich formuliert. Und das die Schweiz ein EU Land ist habe ich nicht geschrieben. Nicht das ich das wirklich will.

Die genauen Kriterien variieren von Land zu Land. Jedenfalls, mind. Kennt jemand ganze Zusammenstellungen, Statistiken oder Links dazu? Wir vermuten, dass es sich um den Knochen aus einem Fischkopf handelt. Leider konnte ich die zwei Bilder hier nicht einsetzen. Ich koennte die Bilder mit e-mail senden und bitte die e-mail-adresse anzugeben. Laut Grimm ein Tonwort. Und das passt gut zum Balzruf, der unter Rackelwild Achtung, Doppeleintrag! Bisher konnte ich nur Werbungen finden, die teilweise die Faktoren Seite Wo kann ich bereits gestellte Fragen nachlesen?

DDR -- Das Buch gibt es wohl nicht mehr, oder? Das Lemma soll der offiziellen Schreibweise entsprechen. Das Dorf hat keine Website und Wikilinks helfen mir auch nicht weiter, weil beide Varianten existieren:. Beispiel: [21] Irgendwelche Tipps? Wie ist das eigentlich? Ein Ex-Minister darf sich ja auch nicht Minister nennen. Leider hab ich dazu nichts im Netz gefunden. Kann jemand hier vielleicht die Frage beantworten?

Falls es jemand gibt dem Lochkarten und "Hollerith-Maschine" was sagt FreddyE , Ich habe schon auf der offiziellen Homepage des Verbandes geforscht, aber nichts gefunden. Mein russisch ist leider zu schlecht bzw. LG, Thomas -- Stimmt es das Norbert Hethke am Ich verstehe die Frage nicht. Vielleicht en:Chart recorder? Ich finde das recht krumm. Danke euch -- Magadan?! Ja, kann man dies sagen zweiteres? Auf der Karte Bild:Rzeczpospolita. Zumindest zeitweise.

Weiss da jemand genaueres? Dort sieht man einen gestrichelten Rahmen um die Unsigned-Signatur. Ich habe den Quelltext verglichen - sehe aber keinen Unterschied. Hat jemand oben genannten Atlas greifbar und kann bitte mal S. Danke, -- Mghamburg Diskussion , Die Top-Ten der meistgelesenen Wikipedia-Seiten usw.


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Rechtshinweis stell ich mir selber rein. Von alleine kam es nicht mehr heraus. Wenn ja, wo steht das denn? Und wer ist die Autorin? Dort habe ich meinen treiber und das System eingetragen. Da ich mich nicht direkt damit auskenne, hier meine Frage: Welches Update ist das neueste? Das oberste? Spiegelverkehrt ist das Bild jedenfalls nicht. Ob die andere Seite von links nach rechts beschriftet war, kann ich nicht sagen. Also das ganze hat einen historischen Grund. Danke -- Pascal , Was ist ein Autosuper? Nach einigen Internet-Quellen scheint das ein Markenname des ersten Autoradios von Blaupunkt gewesen zu sein.

For this reason, and to try to draw attention back to the original texts, to let them be judged without the aid of politically-correct scholarly commentaries, I am presenting a translation of lesser-known works by Weininger. You will find Weininger's German texts in the left-hand column, and my English translation in the right-hand column. Many thanks to Kevin for generously sharing these works with me, as well as advice and ideas on the translation. Although no original printed editions were used to make the translation, the e-copies were either scans of originals, or Solway created them from his collection of Weininger books.

Therefore, the German texts provided can be judged reliable, generally. Rather, it deals with writings more or less polished, including private notes, the collection of aphorisms, and letters. Much of this material originally came into the public realm some 16 years after Otto Weininger's death in , when Weininger's close friend, Artur Gerber, finally obeyed Weininger's request for him to publish it. Gerber published the Taschenbuch Notebook , Weininger's letters to him, and August Strindberg's letters to him, in one collection, in One of the causes for Gerber's hesitation, was Weininger's use of stenography in writing letters and aphorisms; Gerber was unable to decipher certain aphorisms, and it was only with the help of Oskar Ewald, another of Weininger's friends, that a satisfactory copy was finally made.

Gerber's introduction, titled "Ecce Homo! A small selection of Weininger's correspondence is included, including a few letters to Hermann Swoboda as found in the latter's book on Weininger's death. Much of Weininger's correspondence is stored physically in libraries in Austria, and was collected into an online archive by Allan Janik, published by the Intelex Corporation but not available to private individuals. I was unable to access that material. Weininger fuhr nach Italien.

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Er wartete. Weininger hat diese Genugtuung nicht mehr erlebt. Die hagere Gestalt mutete steif an, entbehrte aller Biegsamkeit und Grazie. Seine Kleidung, schlicht und unmodisch, glich der anderer, unbemittelter Studenten. Sonst aber blieben seine Mienen undurchdringlich. Denn althergebrachter Gewohnheiten und Anschauungen achtete er wenig.

Context sentences for "Milch"

Dem folgte jedoch stets eine scharfe, rastlose Denkarbeit. Wie er mit ganzer Kraft und ganzer Seele forschte und dachte, so lebte er auch sein Leben mit ganzer Kraft und Seele. Er erlebte Menschen und Kunstwerke ebenso wie Ereignisse, er fand in ihnen das Verborgenste und Letzte, er durchlebte ihren Gesamtkomplex. Das nannte der aus tiefstem Grunde still bescheidene Mensch: Verstehen. Tatsachen, die bei anderen Menschen kaum Beachtung finden, waren ihm wichtig; ihm waren sie Symptome und Symbole, ihm galten sie als Glieder einer Kette, von denen jedes einzelne nach Welt-Urgesetzen aus dem andern folgte und mit allen zusammenhing.

Aber er belauerte auch sein Leben und sich. Damals hatte er auch den festen Glauben, er werde ein hohes Alter erleben und riechen Erfolg und Ruhm ernten. Und doch kam oft eine Zeit des Zweifels, des Verzweifelns. Wirklich nicht! Aber bin ich sonst noch etwas? Ich zweifle sehr daran! Denn in jener Periode seines Lebens war ihm der Geist noch alles. So gelang es ihm, Menschen, denen er zum ersten Male begegnete, Beruf, Lebensgewohnheiten, sogar psychische Anomalien anzusehen. Otto Weininger konntenichthassen! Wer das Gegenteil behauptet, wird Otto Weininger nicht im entferntesten gerecht.

Wenn Weininger Gutem begegnete, litt er nie. Verzeihen konnte er wie keiner. Er durchschlug dem Gegner die Temporalis, blieb aber selbst unverletzt. Als zwischen dem finanziellen Leiter des Unternehmens und einem Freunde Weiningers Streit ausbrach, wurde Weininger vor die Alternative gestellt, entweder mit dem Freunde zu brechen oder auf seine Stellung zu verzichten.

Er billigte das Verhalten des Freundes und verzichtete ohne Bedenken auf seine Stellung. Einige seiner stets weiderholten Forderungen waren: "Niemand hat das Recht, Vorsehung zu spielen! Auf flache Geselligkeit war Weiningers Sinn nie gerichtet. Dies konnte aber nicht allzusehr auffallen; waren doch schon in den Sommerbriefen dunkle Andeutungen genug gewesen: "Mir geht es gar nicht gut, inwendig.

Freilich ist auch dieses Bekenntnis, das ich dir mache, von meiner verfluchten Eitelkeit wieder begleitet. Am Mein Freund war um diese Tageszeit in Heiligenstadt, wo er Unterricht erteilte. Es dauerte lange, bis er endlich kam. Langsamen, feierlichen Schrittes trat er aus dem Hause. Hatten wir doch den Nachmittag und Abend des Mit der Stadtbahn fuhren wir in seine in Gersthof gelegene Wohnung. In seinem Zimmer angelangt, fragte er: "Nicht wahr, hier ist schon Leichengeruch?

Ich bat ihn, mich zu begleiten und den Abend bei mir zu verbringen. Es war nahezu dunkel geworden. Unvermittelt fragte ich ihn: "Hast du Waffen hier? Ich wiederholte die Frage Keine Antwort. Dann verlangte ich dringendst die Ausfolgung der Waffe. Da entgegnete er viel milder: "Ich habe keine Waffe!

Als wir anlangten, war es fast acht Uhr. Das Abendbrot wurde aufgetragen, doch er weigerte sich, einen Bissen zu essen. Vergeblich war jede Bitte, ein wenig Speise und Trank zu sich zu nehmen. Endlich, nach Stunden, gelang es, ihn zu bewegen, doch ein wenig zu essen. Eine kurze Weile schien es, als sei alles wie einst, als sei wieder die Zukunft voller Hoffnungen vor uns. Immer wieder auf der einen Seite: "Ich will es wissen! Ich kann dich nicht so verlieren! Endlich, lange nach Mitternacht, gab er nach. Ich konnte nicht schlafen. Es war sicherlich ein schwarzer Hund.

Ich habe in dieser Nacht aus Angst den Bettpolster zerbissen. Otto Weininger, der gute, edle Weininger — und solche Worte! Du kannst mich nicht zwingen! Ich kann nicht weiter leben! Auf meine Frage, ob sich sein Sinnen gegen eine bestimmte Person richte, gab er keine klare Antwort. Schon war es fast Tag geworden. Mit tiefer Feierlichkeit sagte er dann: "Ich danke dir! In wenigen Wochen war die letzte Fassung des Buches vollendet.

Ein Wiener wissenschaftlicher Verlag lehnte es ab. Mai brachte er mir das erste Exemplar, das die Druckpresse verlassen hatte. Dann kann er, anscheinend ohne sich erholt zu haben. Auch eine zweite Bemerkung: "Du hast mir bei den Korrekturen der ersten Auflage gar nicht geholfen.

Bei dieser Zusammenkunft sagte er auch: "Wir werden einander jetzt nicht sobald sehen! Der Abschied war ohne Feierlichkeit, nur herzlich in gewohnter Art. Ich war nicht daheim. Ich erwartete ihn nicht. Das wiederholte sich durch eine Reihe von Tagen. So habe ich ihn lebend nicht mehr gesehen. Vielleicht war der Widerspruch zwischen seinen Botschaften und seinem Tun nichts anderes, als der Kampf um sein Leben.

Kurz nachher begleiteten mich zwei Freunde zu seiner Leiche. Moriz Rappaport geschickt und seinem Ermessen die Herausgabe anheimgestellt. Vor nahezu 16 Jahren hat Herr Dr. Der Mann will auch nichts anderes als sie. The year is the birthday of modern characterology: in May of this year, Otto Weininger published his word "Sex and Character".

Weininger went to Italy. He waited. No word of acknowledgment, no earnest and just voice about the book came from home. Affected, staggering are the passages of his letters, in which these unfulfilled remaining desires found impression. Four months after the publishing of the book, he killed himself by a revolver shot to the heart.

Then it became suddenly apparent: A community arose, willing bear witness for him. Friedrich Jodl greeted his work by a dictum, that in the discussion on the psychology of the sexes, this book would never be overtaken. Weininger never experienced this reparation. All these papers, Weininger's work and early death, opened up the understanding of further circles, and indeed brought a mass of theoretical knowledge; on the issues of mankind, the answer is due to Weininger. Weininger, his gaze fixed on the ground, liked to sink deeply into thought, then with a motionless back, the head thrown back on the neck; or he liked to seek the darkest nights, the quietest alleys, to reveal those thoughts to his friend with a low, yet powerful and soulful voice, and then to fall abruptly silent, his great questioning explorer's eyes probing to see the reflection of his thought in the mien of the companion, before he had yet formed a word of response; he liked then, when the first noise of day became audible, to take the hand of the friend, press it fervently and without a word of departure to leave him; unfailingly the outward impression was that: unusual, enigmatical.

One last thing remained unspoken, sunken into darkness, in that no shy word of a question dared to be let out. His outward appearance was strange. The lean body was disposed to be stiff, missing all pliancy and grace. The movements, often only awkward, gauche, were mostly abrupt and unexpected. Smoothness and poise he lacked. How rarely, with his disposition, would he show a little familiarity, when his hand hesitated to grip an object and then quickly to grip it violently.

That hand, they were delicate, almost feeble, yet often clenched in a fist! His clothing, plain and unmodish, like the other impecunious students. He walked often apologetically on his way, the chin propped on his breast, and often still he rushed along hurriedly. But none who ever saw him forgot his face. I never saw it laugh, smile seldom. Dignity and a deeper, more thoughtful seriousness ruled it in every moment. Only on Spring days, in tranquillity, it seemed relaxed, brightened and cheerful, when some musical command lit it with much joy, and — in the most beautiful moments of the year spent together — when Weininger spoke of one of his new ideas, on which he dwelt with peculiar fervency, the shimmer of complete joy stood in his eyes.

But, otherwise, his mien remained unreadable. At no time — until the very last months — did the external allow the paths to be suspected, on which his soul walked. Sometimes indeed the tensed muscles did vibrate, sometimes a tremor went over those lineaments like an unacknowledged wave. On asked the reason, he quickly recollected himself, gave an evasive answer or spoke of other things, so that any further investigation was quashed.

Weininger's demeanor was with others often astonishment, assuredly sometimes even a smile upset him. But typically, customs and opinions he noticed little. Strong however, and which no one could easily strip from him, was the force of his personality, once it became eventide. His body seemed larger, the lines of his wide strange movements became somewhat spectral, his whole being, which the dark alleys gave a strong transparency, became an halo of demonic possession.

And if he spoke ardently, as it often happened, then suddenly with a stick or umbrella that he was carrying, he would strike a blow at the air as if he fought with an unseen ghost, giving the invariable image of a figure from the fantasy-cycles of E. Often I recall one evening: we were wandering around the votive-church for a long time; then he went with me to my house, and I accompanied him back for a piece until we finally, after hours-long wandering late at night, again stood before my house.

We reached our hands to each other. No sound was audible beyond his voice, no man in the alley apart from us both. If he now came! Otto Weininger was a man of uncustomarily greater psychological and intellectual intensity. The greatest role in his thought was played by the intuitive idea. What followed, however, was unfailingly a sharp, indefatigable work of intellect. From all directions, he went to the problem that he had immediately crafted, which, with no deferential self-criticism, he always proved his results, compared them with each other and with the original idea, drew his problem through and gave it no premature release, until his thought-derived structure was deeply grounded in empirical knowledge and seemed ascertained, missing no gaps, brilliant and conclusive.

How he explored and thought with his whole strength and whole soul, he thus also experienced his life with his whole strength and soul. Whether a man met him, a rural beauty, a melody, a poem captivated him or some artwork enraptured him, he was never a mere observer, a mere listener. He never enjoyed in inactive pleasure. He never took an impression passively, he apprehended it actively. And that with such alacrity, with such whole-spirited and joie de vivre, that that which for any other would have lead, at most, to an enrichment of knowledge, with him was tantamount to a total opening-up of the whole, vast, conceptual world.

He experienced mankind and artworks equally as events, he found in them the most cryptic and ultimate, he experienced through them the complex totality. He called it, out of the deepest ground of that quiet modest man: to understand. But this understanding directly afforded in him further of his own rich treasury of experience and with it the great confidence that thought and possibility gave him, to travel further on his way.

Only the most insignificant experiences had meaning for him. Data, that other men barely gave consideration, were important to him; to him they were symptoms and symbols, to him they were valid as links of a chain, for of each of these alone followed from the others, from the laws of the origin of the Universe and with all hung together.

To him they were a part of destiny, a part of his life. How meaningful this life was to him, that he later threw away from himself! He loved it, he enjoyed the thoughts that were his, he hung onto them, he listened in to it in all his profundities so as not to ignore a single tone of this polyphony. In the last years of Weininger's life, there was in Vienna no incidence of whatever importance, that he did not witness, there was no controversial book on which he took no stance, no exhibition, no unusual music- or theatre-experience that he remained away from, no arrival of some personality of note and import that he didn't see, hear, notice and seek to fathom.

That these were possible alongside his substantial scientific studies and research, was inconceivable. When he once heard the figure of speech from someone: "I would part with these experiences for no price", he was enraged by it. Indeed, that he wanted deliberately to divest himself of his thoughts, they being a part of his experience, thus of his I, he designated as sinful.

The sum of the experiences of a man he called the "projection of the essence-complex on the world" and as such belonged to him and was not detachable from him, just as from a piece of ground and earth the atmospheric air afloat about it is not detachable. He said once: "A man who can remember every single experience of his whole life, must be a good man. With what earnestness he stressed every single one of his experiences: "I have become a Protestant on the day of my doctorate graduation! But he also stalked his life and himself. He tested it with a thinker's and a psychologist's stringency, like hardly a man before him.

If he beheld his face in the mirror, thus it was a study of the soul for him. If a good idea came to him, he looked often into the mirror, to find whether his thought had left behind a trace on his facial expression. Certainly the sentence pronounced by him: "The more substantial a man is, the more 'faces' he has, the more often he changes his physiognomy", often his own mirror-image had allowed him to consider. How deep was his love of truthfulness, how great his fear of doing harm to another! That he himself must be a genius, was known to him.

He had very early the strong conviction that he would succeed in finding new truths. At that time he also had the strong belief he would live to experience a great age and reap a rich accomplishment and renown. He naturally he observed the fact, that everything that pertained to him, in the future would interest a greater circle. He studied the biographies of those significant men that he particularly loved, and explored in their works whether no elements of character were cognisable, that he also possessed. Everything he said and wrote on genius and ingenuity was strongly influenced by his own self-observation.

And still would often come a time of doubt, of despair. Indeed not! But am I then, still something else? I doubt very much! Because in that period of his life, for him spirit was still everything. His acuity of mind was boundless. Often he pronounced judgments based on brief observation, that were astounding. So he succeeded at the first time he encountered men, career, life habits, even in observing psychological anomalies.

Some downright incomprehensible mad-seeming proofs still remain to me in breezy recollection. To explain Weininger as a woman-hater means: to completely misunderstood him as a man. For, his anti-feminism is the direct reverse of hate, even if the sentences he wrote, so sounded. Otto Weininger could not hate! He had only an unusual, in him fully over-ruling, supermanly-great feeling in his soul, and that was love, love for mankind, for plants, for animals, love for all phenomena of the Universe!

His love enfolded everything, nothing could he deprive himself of. Whoever asserted the opposite, would not do justice to Otto Weininger in the least degree. On all my journeys I have found no other man who was so capable of love as he, none, whose heart was so wholly full of love as his. Whomever thrusts not this heart back, would be enclosed by his love.

A man who can hate and hates, can not suffer among hatefulness and nastiness. If Weininger encountered goodness, he never suffered. He had only ever suffered if he sought worthiness and found unworthiness, if he wished for positives and came across negatives. And that, when he saw nastiness, exclaimed out of pain from what he thereby felt, was that his fault, was it the fault of his love?

In the many hours I heard Weininger speak, he had shown hate not one single time. One sees in the letters here published where he is not a scientific disputant, only a friend writing to a friend, as a man feels to another man, also in only one sole passage where hate against something is explained as love!

A man who can thus write, that is capable of such gentle feeling, and who with such inwardness, pureness, and such rich feeling would, as much as he could, open up another person as he did, cannot hate! From ethical reasons, he affirmed "life" in every form, even if it only dealt with the life of a blade of glass, that he dodged on his way, so as not to trample on it. On sending me in one of his letters from Sicily a blossom, he emphasised in his own, solemn manner, his guilt at bringing about its early demise: "What conditions have you brought on yourself, that the sailor How his position towards the Jews was not hatred, but on the contrary was only sorrow over them, that he had never grown out of, similarly also can his position towards woman not be construed as actual, primal hatred, even if the enticement for bringing oneself to such a view is undeniably available.

A definite event that drove him to his "school of thought", was never given to him. His lofty sensibility, that stretched out to all things, kept him away from questioning in the private lives of others, since his own concerns over his own impulses hindered him from speaking, insofar as it did not touch the cardinal questions of mankind.

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Regarding the complex of themes which indeed dominated the routine of other young people, in his conversation they nevertheless only seldom emerged, which pertained particularly the questions of his psychological and sexual situation on woman. In his comportment towards others, Weininger showed incomparable goodness and fineness of feeling.

He could forgive like none else. He was only unyielding when it had to do with a breach of a moral imperative or with some negative impact on his values. What he held as right, he championed with an energy exceeding beyond his youth. Despite being a bit wimpy and not informed in weapons, he challenged at the end of or beginning of an indubitably physically superior man to a duel, because this other had wished to presume a right, that Weininger took a stand on.

He struck the opponent on the temporal, but he remained unhurt. In the year Weininger was called upon to join a literary undertaking as an employee: for the poor student, this meant peace from every worry. When strife broke out between the financial leader of the undertaking and a friend of Weininger, Weininger was confronted with the alternatives, either to break with the friend or to relinquish his position.

He supported the behaviour of his friend and relinquished without second thoughts his position. A few of his contantly repeated insistences were: "No one has the right to play with destiny! Concerning shallow sociability, Weininger's sense was never rich. Indeed, he belonged for a short time to a student organisation, because the possibility of sportive exercises allured him and he wished to observe the academic youths his friends as a close neighbour; still, he found no satisfaction here.

Conversations with friends meant more to him. Many evenings and nights he spent in disputing. All the powerful figures in the history of humanity, the deepest problems of the soul, he touched on in these conversations. Beethoven of whom he said, that no man would have delighted him so much to be, as him, because he found his great theme , Wagner, Ibsen, Strindberg whom he held as the most significant mind of his time and Zola always took the conversation on.

They all appeared on a position too high to see, and he realised how only a greater genius can show and read them for others. In addition, he spoke always of his latest crucial problem: Man and Woman! Even in the year the question was already existing for him that accompanied him up to his death: "Is there the possibility to have an influence on the sexual development of a child?

Long before the writing of his book, he said that love and murder were related to each other in the deepest ground that possibly was. Because a man, who took possession of a wife, evenso negated the will of the woman, just as the murderer negates his victim. Everything, that hung together in some way with murder, was his highest interest. Concerning a novel, that I showed him in April , he wrote to me Intimately entwined jostle the yearning for beauty and the affliction over beauty, to the tragic end, to lust-murder.

But it is not the lust-murder of the human animal, the gruesomeness no pure savagery as with Zola. It is the necessary gruesome answer on the most gruesome home-seeking through love, it is the last act of despair of the highest sublimation of human meaning. If this beauty truly threatened to appear, for him whose life had long been ruled by this sole desire, thus must he kill her. She must forgive! But on beauty. It is sadism, intellectual sadism, that, insofar as it remains bound to the physical sphere, makes absolutely probable an external conclusion.

Ibsen's Hedda Gabbler — the woman that Khnopff always paints — has a similar fate. But her cravings are those of a woman, psychological, compulsive; with G. Apparently through a thought-association on the discourses over the human animal, the theme "Murder" always resulted of itself, so often Weininger beheld one in the darkness of a racing train.

Often we waited it was in the country , on his wish, for the Orient-Express. The frenzied racing train, the glowing shower of sparks thrown off the locomotive, the shuddering of the earth, always transported Weininger into a certain agitation. Long could he remain and watch the spraying sparks, until the train was no longer visible. When he returned home in September from Norway, he seemed changed. His judgments were more stringent, the mood he wore outwardly, was grim and depressed. But this could not attract much attention; for actually, there had been sufficient dark insinuations in his summer letters: "It is actually not going well for me, inwardly.

Indeed, this knowledge also always attends me, that I give you, of my accursed vanity. On 20th November , his father came to me in the first afternoon hours and brought the communication that Otto on the foregoing day had been at the family house and had taken farewell of his family members in such a heartfelt and earnest fashion, that there was a reason to fear.

I knew no farewell. My friend was around this time in Heiligenstadt, where he gave classes. I hurried there and waited on the street. It was a long time until he finally came. Slow, solemn, his steps drew him home. The concentrated strength of his expression was given way to one of lassitude and dismal apathy, as if he saw nothing before him, his features seemed deformed, his face emaciated, dark and severe. On the tone of his voice, grave and bleak anguish could be heard.

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I had not thought his condition was this bad. We had spent the afternoon and evening of the 18th November together, without perceiving a cause for this profound change. On the question for the reason of his visible malaise, he answered pointing: "Of my feelings of unease I could at the very least free myself, if I could entrust them to someone. Along the city road, we went to Gersthof where his apartment was located. It was a dim, stormy day. Despite wearing his winter coat, Otto was continually chilled. The anxiety of his friend he countered with the words: "I have the cold of the grave in me.

That he should not remain alone in this condition, was clear. Arrived in his room, he asked: "Is it not true, here is the smell of a corpse? I bade him to accompany me and spend the evening with me. Not by accident, I told him about the news was printed in one of the morning newspapers, but which later turned out to be wrong, that Knut Hamsun, whom he considered had inwardly changed, and whose books he possessed, whose novel "Pan" he had often termed the most magnificent in the word, had shot himself.

Weininger cringed, looked at me distraught and said: "So him, too? It became almost dark. On the entreaty to light the lamp, he moaned, as if it tormented him with unspeakable pain: "No, not light! In this dreadful hour, which dealt with the salvation and damnation of my dearest friend, no doubt could exist, that there could be only one thing to help: inflexible energy. Abruptly I asked him: "Do you have a weapon here? I repeated my question. No answer. Then I demanded urgently the handing over of the weapon. We had never said a bad word to each other.

Yet now, while I trembled in greater worry over him, now for the first time in his life, he yelled at me, as if he were my enemy: "You have no right to take command over my will! Painful the moment was for us both, an imperative was required of necessity to remain now absolutely hard, so as not to lose everything. I threatened to look for the weapon myself, if he would not give it to me voluntarily.

Then he replied more mildly: "I have not a weapon! When we arrived, it was almost eight o'clock. He complained of the cold and sat himself by the oven. The evening bread was brought, yet he declined to eat a bite. In vain was every request for him to take a little food and drink. Despite the window being closed, the fire burning in the oven, the heat in the room really unbearable, he kept his winter clothing on, always drew more coals up and huddled near the oven.

Finally, after hours, I succeeded in inducing him to eat a little. Now we sat together facing each other, his mien had brightened. In a short while he seemed as if everything were as it once was, as if again the future were full of hope before us. Yet soon the painful seriousness back back into his expression. The crisis was not yet past. The following hours were a struggle between us, a struggle of wills and energies.

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Always on the one side: "I will know! You must tell me! I cannot lose you this way! Finally, long after midnight, he gave in. He stood up formally and said with a voice so dark, so cold as the grave, so hopeless and desolate, like I have never heard a man's voice: "I know that I am a born criminal. I am the intrinsic murderer! In the first moment the thought was that his noble, rich, pure spirit had been violated.

He whom every worm, every cockroach of the way had abandoned, whether he was lost in the woods or else bore himself confidently, this benevolent man, this holy man, that he should really bear the dark, of which he spoke, in his own soul? He must be wrong, he must be prejudiced in a delusion, for any other conclusion was not possible! Once the beginning was made, he was now in a position to speak: "I was in Munich one night in a hotel room.

I could not sleep. Then I heard a dog howl. So terrified have I never ever heard a dog howl. It was surely a black dog. It had become the evil spirit. I fought with it. Over my soul, I fought with it. On that night, from fear, I bit into the bed polster. Since that night I knew that I am a murderer. That's why I must kill myself! What I replied to him, I don't know any more. I only know that I spoke to him for a long time, that I defended this "murderer" on that night, defended him with conviction, because I did not believe in his "guilt".

I know that I begged and prayed for his life, that again, I kept pleading for hours and hours incessantly, and again always heard: "You cannot persuade me! You cannot force me! Let me be! It must be! I cannot live anymore! Soon it was almost day. The lamps had burnt down, I felt exhausted and spiritless, because everything had failed. All my energy was used up, he was stronger. In the great fear of losing my friend, and indeed also of losing him forever, I said still a few words with my remaining decisive power. I wept and my agitation effected what my words had not been able to achieve.

He placed his hand on my forehead, and in his eyes were tears. With deep solemnity he then said: "I thank you! I would be silent, then, because he would need quiet and solitude. In a few weeks, the last version of the book was completed. A Viennese scientific publisher rejected it.

On 29th May, he brought me the first example the printing press had gotten off. In early summer , we spent some hours together. Still, he often spoke about the criminal nature, but yet now in a genuinely milder form, that left hope that the crisis was declining into abatement.

Around the middle of July he left Vienna and remained abroad until the last third of September. Then he came, apparently without having recuperated. That he again sustained plans to commit suicide, I did not suspect. Indeed, he said at our last get-together: "The accusation could not be made against me, that my book was intellectually impoverished!

Also a second remark: "You have not helped me with the corrections of the first edition. Now you have no examination before you. Promise me that you will fully take on yourself the work for the second edition! At these meetings he also said: "Now we will not see each other so soon! The farewell was without ceremony, only heartfelt in the usual manner. The resolution to perform his plan so quickly, had Weininger still, at that time, not conceived. The next evening he cam to me. I was not home. On other days I learnt that he came upset to my room and had waited for many hours unavailingly.

Later at night he went away. He let me know I should not expect him on the following day. I didn't expect him. But he came again, remaining for hours, until late in the evening, then he went. Es kamen viele verschiedene Antworten. Ich mach mir Sorgen vielleicht werden meine Studenten und ich eines Tages auch eine solche Statistik.

They had a motorcycle convention when we were in town in I really love Iron Man. He lives in a garbage can with his wife the Black Widow. Thor gets a beer belly from thinking about this.


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  8. Frederic J. At Hangzhou Xiaoshan airport going through security, they pat everyone down from head to toe, including the crotch, and you take off your shoes, they pat the soles of your feet. Manche mit Kreide, manche ritzen in die Steine. People write on the Great Wall. Some use chalk, some carve into the stone. The chalk is actually lime, mortar between the bricks that fell out.

    Someone writes a date in French and proves he was here yesterday. I saw this in many parts of the world, teenagers love it. Nachdem ich ihn kritisiert hab kommt er mit einem Stock auf mich zu. At 16, joins a rural drum band. At 26, swallows iron balls on stage, one gets stuck. No treatment, dies. Mit 26, schluckt Eisenkugeln, eine steckt, nicht behandelt, stirbt. Something in my heart has died, something that keeps me warm and alive. You hurt me bad, I hope I never hurt you this way. Something in my heart walks again, something that makes me go on.

    I hope you feel it as long as you live. I live in poetry, in God, if you will. People have risen. Jesus is often too big, our pastor said. Look for the personal stuff, when Jesus calls someone by name. Or too empty, when I read Jesus lives on a wall in the middle of nowhere. Anarchy works better, almost any graffiti, most of the time.

    Moon looking in 3 or 4 in the morning full moon the night before easter I have jetlag I miss my dog almost 40 years ago we ran through the woods small paths in the night his nose was our light I knew where we were most of the time I miss living in the country It is 9 or 10 in China at least. Animal rights. I want to call this poem stupid question. Thank you! Now go forth and profligate, or whatever. Martin Winter gives a speech on his poetry. I notice only when he speaks German it flows really fast. Gleich nachher kommt man zum Kraftwerk oben auf dem Hang. Fear are the highest people in government.

    One of them is a former neo-Nazi. Short is actually tall. Actually this is not about Austria or Hungary. It is America. You name your place. Ich erinnere mich wie Du dagelegen bist auf dem Bett lauter Schmerz ich wollt Dich aufschneiden. Du hast es ausgehalten und unser Kind normal rausgebracht. Dann hast Du gehustet jedesmal ist ein Strahl Urin rausgekommen. I was born in the last year of the Cultural Revolution. Having cared for me a few times after big operations, my father seems to have found his calling in the hospital back home.

    Am Februar am Nachmittag ist meine Mutter durch einen Verkehrsunfall von uns gegangen. Poor dog we say, laughing at a dog tied up downstairs who was set free in the morning. He can only walk a few steps happily in the same spot, as if the rope on his neck was still there. Seine Mutter bekam vor Hunger drei Jahre keine Periode. Vor Angst, dass sie sie nicht aufziehen kann, hat seine Mutter sie vor der Geburt totgemacht. Lunar New Year is here. I go to the station, wait for my train, enter a restaurant, would like to sit a bit. I say no, can I sit a bit, going soon.

    He says sorry, seats are for eating. Just go across, they let you sit down, they even offer drinking water. I lift my head and see — Mc Donalds. It means you spread your hand very slowly, from rock to paper, you need many, many years. Why are we here? Why are we alive? To look at the moon. To think of each other, to help each other, to work for each other.

    To feel spring. To feel alone, to feel hurt. To look for each other, to be together, to smell the night. To feel cold. To hear the city, to hear each other. To look at the moon, whenever we can. Daddy, who is this? He is called Li Bifeng. I just translated a poem by him. He is in prison. They are all in prison. This one is a writer, too. Why is he in prison? He took part in protests, demonstrations. Demonstration, you remember what that is? Yes, we were in one together this year.

    Where is this? This is in China. What else did he do? He organized strikes. Do you know what strikes are? To get better pay. To get insurance, you know what that is? When you are sick, to get money from insurance so you can get a doctor, go to hospital. Daddy, are there any places with no government?

    Good question. There are some places where women are in charge. They own the land, they run things. Used to.