machines have no fantasy, xkcd has (click pic 4 linked original)


The subject of my former german post… is a very relative issue.

Take two people, one has nothing. The other one has two billions.

Statistic gives us two people again. Each one has a billion.

Magic? No. Financial idiocrazy.


like this one:

There was a young lady from Riga
who rode with a smile on a tiger.
They returned from the ride
with the lady inside
and the smile on the face of the tiger.

you find here, at Wiesenraute

image from: cheezburger dot com

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First I want to thank my readers for all the friendly comments, that reached me. You are so nice :) The text doesn’t appear instantly, because I really read every comment, and as I’m not fishing for compliments… some fall out of the list. It is like TV sometimes, I don’t like re-runs 😀

Some asked, how to subscribe here… I disabled the function, because mostly spammers joined. They never left a useful comment, just rubbish.

If you want to stay in touch with my typings, you’ll have to use the RSS feed… you find it in the bottom line of this page.

For a more personal kind of message… there are e-mail adresses in my „Impressum“. Look for it in the part of the menu below the calendar 😉

Thank you for reading

Your papiertiger (Sue)

Im Sandkasten

German for: In the sandbox… that’s the planning area of international war-theaters as well as a wellness place in a german kindergarten.

Strange connection? No, not really. Looking at historical wars in europe, we can still see, who had the bigger shovel then. It was used to draw some new borders.

Naturally, some were hurt by those shovels too. Big sandbox, our europe. Lots of players all around, early escapes to a „new world“ have beeen reported.

And, no matter how old we feel in our civilisation… industrial development as fast as ours shows clearly: we are not clean until now, still need diapers, some of us.

And what would I do in a sandbox? What programmers do, try something new, or so. In my menu to the right, below the calendar you find „Seiten“ , sides where I test things… in this case storytelling (with some help, you’ll see). Not in my native language, since more people understand english, even in europe :)


from the mob… a student found in german new year’s melee. It came from an un-expected side: syrian refugees gathered around the frightened girl as a shield.

Not every foreign man is a bad guy. The same with our native men: Not all of them are angels.

Even Snow…

despite of all global warming warnings 😉

With the symmetrical function of my webcam I documented it here.


I am angry about things I cannot change….. it always depresses me a bit.

The patience I need to control my mood….. I can find it in my heavier favorite music all of the time.

Noise it’s called by my husband, he doesn’t need Metal to control his aggressions.

He is a predator….. and I like predators, as you can see clearly here. Some even hunt their prey with guitars, like Tim Sköld.


David went on


to a better dimension, I really hope. Miss you, Mr. Bowie.

Olympic Games

This is not the first time, that I wrote about them, have their origin where? Antique Greece… or Hellas (We have some greek friends).

Just now they talk about locations on TV, and the whole mobile circus was, what I had to criticise about it. When a wealthy country is the host, they do everything to earn more with „panem et circenses“ (another of my recurring themes).

But, if poorer people try to do the same…they always give more than they have. As with football (for americans: soccer) worldcups too… buildings mostly rot away useless afterwards. This issue is another cause for head-aches right now, seriously.

What I started with, is not forgotten by now… the path for the games seems logical for me. Not for some greeks perhaps, they like a pretty relaxed lifestyle… make even jokes under themselves about it. We germans have an in-built alarm-clock in their humor.

What, if the games find a home for longer time, where they came from. Installations needed only repairworks instead of complete new construction every time (my husband said that too, he is the craftsman here, and knows a lot about building sites).

He calls me a dreamer very often. So much books I’ve read, so much utopic ideas. Darling, you are right, methinks. A dreamer.

For bookworms:

Pierre Pelot – La Guerre Olympique (Der Olympische Krieg)

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