Sunday, 14 September 2014

900 - Der Ausländische Platte.

900 - Der Ausländische Platte.
 Sterben langsam in einem Garten voller Rosen.
Sie werden keinen Kredit erhalten.

I will talk about Nietzsche and the rest of the nutters at the end of this piece, but for now, lets establish the identity of Der Ausländische Platte.

Well, frankly, what identifies The Foreign Plate are her differences.

Andy said to me as we passed, each carrying three four-litre tubs of prep out of the walk-in, that my genius, in relation to writing, was far more likely to be recognized after my death.
I thought this might be quite a high price to pay.
But I like Andy more than he knows. I feel he is like a lifelong friend rather than a colleague. He is definitely my type of guy, which is why I advised him not to lose his ponytail.

Of course, everyone is different - but some people certainly seem a little more different than others. This doesn't make them any less of a person, in fact it only serves to make them more interesting to the inquisitive mind.

Es ist eine platte, in der Küche, die ich verstecken immer in den haufen - der ausländische platte.

I don’t wish her to be thrown out you see, this intriguing foreign plate with a past.
So from time to time, when she shows her face, a little more weatherbeaten than the rest of the stack, a different size with a different lip and I put her out to pasture in the restaurant. I’m sure that no-one likes to be presented their food on her, this worn old plate, different to everyone else’s. I’m sure they all give her a derisive, nose-stretching glare, but they eat their dinner off her all the same, quietly so as not to cause a scene, and send her back into the kitchen where I’ll quickly hide her again, to be ready for her next outing.

I am too old to be angry now. Too old to be frustrated. Too tired to be a sex god. Too intelligent to be a zealot. Too tired to be any good at anything except self-indulgence. My only interest is in revealing Der Ausländische Platte. 

Nehmen Sie mich zurück in die alte Heimat, wo ich bin gut darin, auf meinen eigenen.

Back to Scotland with Allan and John and the rest of them.

Two things bother the foreign plate.
Only two.
The first is Annahmen Unbegründet – the tendency for people to make unreasonably unfounded assumptions about other people based on a lack of, or unreliable, information.
The second is Die Nicht Hilfreich Kommentar – or “The Unhelpful Comment” which speaks for itself and the most fucking annoying thing in the world.

Unfortunately, der ausländische platte can’t exist much longer due to it being old and stressed in the middle. It may make one or two more journeys, but will eventually crack from the centre outwards and will be of no use for anything other than to feed the bin.

Der ausländische platte wird blut zu ziehen, wenn es auf dem boden zertrümmert.

900 - sich hüten, der ausländische Platte kommt durch…

Of course the foreign plate may be me, it may not be.
But the subtext to it all, most certainly, is that University College London banned the Nietzsche Club in reaction to a poster it put up advertising discussion of Alain de Benoist and Julius Evola, alongside Heidegger and Nietzsche - New APPS - Art, Politics, Philosophy, Science
However, we all like to discuss nutters don't we?

The operative words in case you didn’t notice were “banned” and “discussion”.

But to get back to cleaning down, what is great about cooking, is the fact that you are paid some money and that you meet some interesting people.
What is great about writing, is that you can say whatever the fuck you want, no-one can censor you – no-one can shut you up – no-one can tell you what to say or do…

I had a bad day on Friday.
But a good day today.
On Friday I experienced Die Nicht Hilfreich Kommentar - The Unhelpful Comment - and felt disgusted, as it was born of Annahmen Unbegründet.

I may discuss a nutter on here soon, or a pratt, or a fuckwit, watch this space, shhhhhhhhh... sie können nicht einmal wissen, er ist ein Spinner...but remember no-one can tell you what to say...

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