I hate Ikea.
… I’m going to buy:
– Bed, 180×200, white.
– Dressing table, 191, black – for my laptop, because I’m nerd, and I’m in my bed now.
– Wardrobe, black and white. I hate this part of the project, because you can choose among too many things, wasting your time and creativity – exactly what I did.
– Bookcase, black and white. My future large bookcase. Immense bookcase – but you can choose among too many options even here, and I wasted my time and creativity this way.
– Desk, black, sort of shelf above it.
I designed prospects, plants, plans. Everything. Even the fact there are things I can’t calculate, so I calculated what I couldn’t calculate and wrote down what I hadn’t designed. I hate my mind, and Ikea.
Mr Pumpkin wrote me. That man is so kind I don’t know how to thank him – free translations (German>Italian) apart. He searched for the magazine (not Zeitschrift, nein – my mind replaces English words with German ones) I wanted to have (because there’s an article about Peiper&Ardennes), that’s out of print – but he made a copy and he’ll send it to me.
Moreover, he said that a friend of his gave him other magazines, 1950, ideological-military, I could be interested in. (Why? I’m curios. What does he think I’m interested in, apart from Peiper and every fucking thing that could be interesting?). In German.
A. asked me:
“Do you collect military stuff?”
“No, they give it to me.”
I’ve got Waffen-SS im Einsatz (Paul Hausser) in French – le tirage, constituant authentiquement la première édition, est limité à 1100 exemplaires – do I know French? No, but thanks to this book now I know that I understand it. Why have I this book? Because there’s a chapter about Peiper, Peiper’s writings, Mr Pumpkin had two copies and didn’t know why, so…
I thanked him, gave him my address for that magazine, said we’ll meet at Militalia for sure – the place where I’ll lose my virginity again, because it’ll be full of useless expensive (not teuer, nein) stuff and I can’t, absolutely I can’t, spend money to buy expensive useless stuff – but I can sell my virginity, if anyone will believe I’m still virgin. (I’m virgin, don’t you know? I’m virgin and we’re all equal before the law.)
D’autres reconnurent que les mots pseudo-démocratiques “tout sont égaux ici” n’étaient rien d’autre qu’un papotage idiot, une bouée de sauvetage remplie de plomb dans un caniveau.
Joachim Peiper, October 1952.
Colonel Everett was convinced that a fair trial had not been granted to the defendants: In addition to dramatic mock trials, “to extort confessions, U.S. prosecution teams ‘had kept the German defendants in dark, solitary confinement at near starvation rations up to six months; had applied various forms of torture, including the driving of burning matches under the prisoners’ fingernails; had administered beatings which resulted in broken jaws and arms and permanently injured testicles’.”
(mereia, I’m tired and this post is probably full of mistakes. Take a whip and punish me.)