Imagine this: Harald Schmidt is sitting with Monika Gruber in a vodcast, and suddenly something happens that has become a natural phenomenon in Germany: Two people speak freely, incisively, and without the usual talk show helmet of clichés, trigger warnings, and "expert" rhetoric. A conversation about war, collective amnesia, and the constant media madness. Basically, everything that defines our present, minus the obligatory commercial break for fear and outrage.
Schmidt says something that should be self-evident, but in Germany is considered a subversive act: We miss "Grandpa telling war stories." Back then, around the coffee table, that wasn't folklore. It was a reminder that war wasn't made up of strategy papers, but of "lost in Russia," "lost a leg," "two sons killed." Today, that generation is gone. What remains is a moral vacuum, which we bravely fill with memorial days, hashtags, and "Never again" candles. The problem: No one knows what for anymore. People don't go, they don't read anything, they don't feel anything, but they're very much in favor of it. That's the new German form of responsibility: Emotionally detached, but rhetorically charged to the max.
And then comes the part where Germany watches itself think. "Never again," Gruber asks, in essence, what does that even mean anymore when "war-ready" is once again the magic word? Schmidt's answer is icy and therefore so fitting: "That's just a platitude." Europe plays a spectator role geopolitically. We sign off on photos while others decide. The rest are allowed to smile. After 14 days, the bombing resumes, and meanwhile we're debating "cityscape" because the Chancellor uttered a word perfectly suited to sparking a weekend controversy. Nothing burns quite like a subordinate clause.
Then there's the German Armed Forces: On talk shows, you have people saying "we need this and that," as if they were placing an order on Amazon. And then someone from the German Armed Forces Association sits there, listens, and dryly lists the issues: No barracks, no instructors, no weapons, no personnel, no ammunition. The current state of affairs. But don't worry: There's a new buzzword. Mindset. It's like logistics, only without the materials. A kind of psychological spare part that can supposedly be reordered via a campaign. "We need the mindset," say people who, at the mere sight of an improperly parked e-scooter, are already calling for a disciplinary hearing.
What makes the conversation so enjoyable is that Schmidt and Gruber possess the rare gift of not denying the absurdity, but rather denying it dignity. Gruber admires Schmidt's fundamental optimism, and Schmidt responds with the only truly mature toolkit: "Can I influence anything, or not?" The rest is commented on, not simply consumed. In times when millions voluntarily subscribe to outrage, this is almost a self-help group.
Of course, Donald Trump makes an appearance. Schmidt calls him a great entertainer, and that's an observation, not campaign propaganda. Trump is a performer; he improvises, he commands space, he produces sentences that German politicians would only survive in a nightmare. And the best part: the media narrative about him changes faster than a talk show guest changes their mind after a commercial break. Three weeks ago: fascism, abyss, rule of law gone. Then: peace in Gaza, suddenly he's "rough, but that's exactly what's needed." And somewhere, an editor is wondering whether he should fire up his old newspaper clippings.
Ultimately, the conversation lands where Germany truly feels at home: in the everyday drama of panic. German Rail, the swill served in the on-board restaurant, the missing carriage, the ticket system only for university graduates. And yet, it's not just complaining, but a mirror: we're addicted to disruptions because they give us the feeling that we're at least right about something. When the world is on fire, we argue about currywurst in the train compartment. That's not stupidity. That's a survival strategy in a country caught between delusions of grandeur and self-pity.
An intelligent, witty conversation that inadvertently accomplishes something that has become rare here: it reminds us that reality is not made up of narratives, but of consequences. And that "never again" should be more than just a decorative word in the window of our self-description.
"Dravens Tales from the Crypt" has been enchanting for over 15 years with a tasteless mixture of humor, serious journalism - for current events and unbalanced reporting in the press politics - and zombies, garnished with lots of art, entertainment and punk rock. Draven has turned his hobby into a popular brand that cannot be classified.
My blog was never designed to spread news, let alone get political, but with current affairs I just can't help but capture information here that is otherwise censored on all other channels. I am aware that the design page may not seem "serious" to many in this regard, but I will not change this to please the "mainstream". Anyone who is open to non-state-compliant information sees the content and not the packaging. I've tried enough to provide people with information over the last 2 years, but quickly noticed that it never matters how it's "packaged", but what the other person's attitude towards it is. I don't want to put honey on anyone's mouth to meet expectations in any way, so I'll keep this design because hopefully at some point I'll be able to stop making these political statements, because it's not my goal to go on like this forever 
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