M. Beisenherz: Sorry, I’m here privately
The desert lives
Vice-Chancellor Robert Habeck, Chancellor Olaf Scholz and FDP leader Christian Lindner at the federal government’s closed conference at Schloss Meseberg
© Imago Images
The traffic light is jerking around, there are riots in Parliament, and the defiant eutons are triumphant: our columnist is really sweating.
By Mickey Beisenherz
Imagine it’s summer vacation and you have to study for the final exam. Or to put it another way: It is fair that Scholz, Habeck and At 35 degrees in the shade, Lindner had to think about how to heat the booth sustainably. Just the idea of how they get oiled up about it, well, that’s a very satisfying feeling for the simple taxpayer, isn’t it?
Somehow it was logical that there was rioting in the Bundestag about the damned heating law shortly before the summer break, which escalated almost as much as in the blissful days when Ukraine still stood for light entertainment like dents in its own parliament.
A nice selfie on Instagram does not make a stable relationship
The sobering realization: The traffic light is the same as with all couples – a nice selfie on Instagram does not make a stable relationship. In the meantime, the ministries write each other snappy letters and publish them on Twitter, so that even Lilly Becker would ask the question of style.
It all started so beautifully.
Now Christian Lindner makes thirteen variations of the same heat pump joke on the SPD excursion at the expense of the Greens, while “pump bobby” Habeck sits with Lanz and quarrels. There were weeks when the stricken Minister of Economics’ descriptions of the unfair goings-on in King Olaf’s palace led one to believe that the cuddly tousled Habeck was the third Windsor brother. Prince Hairy.
Meanwhile, in deepest Bavaria, resistance was forming when the wood-burning Che-Guevara Hubert Aiwanger called for resistance in Erding in front of 13,000 and one couldn’t help but think: the heat pump is the new vaccination. The knee-jerk abhorrence of the heating heck of the state, which was recently perceived as encroaching, probably has a lot more to do with emotional post-Covid than many people think.
The devil always shits on the brownest pile
Clearly more worried than the funny Aiwanger, who probably still peels his apples with a jackknife with a deer horn handle, one has to look at the survey high of Alice Weidel’s frustration and fascist collection point. A high whose unpleasant side effect is to keep growing the higher the percentage already reached. People like to vote for the successful ones, or the devil always shits on the brownest bunch. Once such a party has 20 percent, it seems a lot less dingy and exotic to say, as a defiant Teuton: “Yes, yes. I would probably vote for them too.” Says every fifth.
And what about the CDU, whose head Friedrich Merz absolutely can’t think of who exactly this conservative center is right now? At least an “Agenda für Deutschland” (Agenda for Germany), whose acronym unfortunately reads Ah-Eff-Dee, has been created for this diffuse structure, and that is very revealing.
It was a nice punch line just before the bell rang, that we Germans were briefly reminded with the fine of 243 million in terms of tolls that there were governments even before the bungling traffic lights that had not only worked successfully. 243 million. Scholz could have bought Haaland for that, who juggles the ball on the lawn of the Chancellery for the tourist boats. Then there would be nice football to be seen in Germany again.
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