@thomaseisenhuth In meinen Augen war das kein Interview, Frau Amman hat mit allen Mitteln versucht, Herrn Martenstein zu " korrigieren" und ihn in heillosem Wirrwar zu verstricken, sie hat sich selbst darin verstrickt und ein jämmerliches Bild von sich dargebracht, unglaublich
Meiner Generation wurde beigebracht, dass schwarze Haut dasselbe ist wie weiße Haut. Dass es egal ist.
Dass es Männer gibt, die halt Männer lieben und Frauen, die Frauen lieben. Und Männer und Frauen, die beides lieben. Und dass das ok ist. Dass es egal ist.
Dass es völlig in Ordnung ist, wenn unser Gegenüber aus Italien, Spanien, Vietnam, der Türkei oder sonstwo her kommt. Dass nur wichtig ist, dass wir respektvoll und halt normal miteinander umgehen. Uns an die Regeln halten. Dass egal ist, wo einer herkommt, benehmen muss man sich halt.
Das waren schöne Zeiten, als solche Dinge noch egal waren. Heute sind sie besonders. Müssen herausgestellt werden. Jede Nuance muss ihr eigenes kleines "Hurra, wir sind speziell, beachtet uns, Ihr Knechte!" haben. Egal reicht nicht mehr. Alles muss besonders sein. Und wehe dem, der die Besonderheit nicht erkennt oder nicht richtig zuordnet, weil er verwirrt ist von drölftausend Besonderheiten, die gefühlt täglich neu hinzukommen und einfach den Überblick verloren hat.
Egal reicht nicht mehr. Und genau deswegen schwingt das Pendel jetzt um. Weil wir, die Generation, die egal auf max geskillt hatte und fein war mit jedem, der sich einfach vernünftig benommen hat und völlig ignoriert hat, woher du kamst und wer du warst oder wen du liebtest, die Schnauze gestrichen voll hat.
Egal war gut. Denn bei egal zählte der Mensch und nicht seine Sexualität, Herkunft, Hautfarbe, Religion oder Lieblingsspeise.
Egal war gut. Lasst uns zu egal zurückkehren.
Her father has Down syndrome. The doctors said he couldn't raise her… But they were wrong.
Michael worked, he learned, he was there for her every step of the way. Her mother left when she was six months old, but he never did. Today, she studies at the same university, and he applauded her on her first day and on her graduation.
There is a new field in this universe, and standing in it, at last at ease, is an old soldier. His name is Hector.
He is a Cavalry Black, a big Irish-bred gelding the better part of seventeen hands, and for seventeen years he served with the Household Cavalry in London, on State and Ceremonial duty, which is a polite phrase for the hardest thing you can ask of a horse.
Understand what that means. A horse is a flight animal. Every instinct in it, refined across millions of years of being prey, says one word in the face of sudden noise and pressing crowds: run. Hector was trained, over years, to do the opposite. To stand. To carry a rider in a steel breastplate down the Mall through a wall of sound, past the bands and the cheering and the saluting guns of the King's Troop, and not move a muscle. To hold himself still on a state occasion while every nerve in his body screamed at him to bolt, and to do it again, and again, faultlessly, because the man on his back and the crowd at his shoulder were trusting half a tonne of flight animal to master its own nature on command.
He walked behind a gun carriage at a state funeral once, at the slow march, the drum beating the step, a nation watching through its tears, and he never put a hoof wrong.
He is retired now. The shoes are off. The clipped parade coat has been let go woolly and unmilitary, the first sign the people who tend old service horses look for that one is finally letting down. He shares a green field with a small unbothered donkey called Nelson, because a horse should never be alone, and the black charger who stood behind kings and the donkey who has never had a worry in his life are now inseparable. When his old groom visits, Hector lifts his head and nickers across the field before the man has said a word.
And here is the part that undoes everyone who knows what they are seeing. One afternoon they found Hector lying flat out on his side in the grass, dead still, and a heart stopped, the way every horseman's does at that sight, because a horse down and flat looks like the worst news there is. Then an ear flicked at a fly, and the breath went out of them in relief. He was simply, deeply asleep. A horse only sleeps like that when it feels entirely safe, because flat on the ground is the one place a prey animal cannot flee from, and most never dare it. For seventeen years Hector stood, awake to every danger, holding everyone else's nerve so they could rely on him. Now, in a quiet field, he has decided it is finally safe to lie down and close his eyes.
He gave his courage to the rest of us for seventeen years. He has earned the grass. He is taking it lying down, in the sun, with the donkey keeping watch.
Está tocando una banda de rock y el cantante ve a un niño con un cartel pidiendo tocar la guitarra con ellos. El cantante le pregunta:
- Realmente sabes tocar la guitarra?
- Sí!
- Cual es tu banda favorita?
- Guns N Roses
Esto es lo que sucede después.
Ein Imker-Urgestein bereitet Veganern nun Kopfzerbrechen 🔥
„Ohne meine Bienen hätten sie mit ihren Veganern nix zu fressen, weil 80 % ihrer gesamten Ernährung von meinen Bienen kommt ... Also lassen Sie mich mit Ihrem veganischen Scheißdreck in Ruhe.“ 🤣
🔥🚨DEVELOPING: This young man named Frankie Lowery is going viral for his cinematic voice yet again. He started trending on X after my post in May despite already having an Instagram audience, his views have been going up and he has been gaining a loyal fan base since.
🚨BREAKING🚨
This is Belfast migrant stabbing victim, Stephen Ogilvie.
It’s understood today that doctors have now placed him in an induced coma but have said that ‘Stephen is a fighter’ 💚
He has tragically lost his left eye and socket, with surgeons operating twice to rebuild his nose and save his right eye.
Surgeons also had to frantically intervene to rescue his throat and neck.
Medics are now focusing on reducing the swelling to his face.
Please take a moment to say a prayer for Stephen, his family and the medical team who are saving his life 🙏🇮🇪
In 2017, Japan introduced a unique social experiment called The Restaurant of Mistaken Orders.
Staffed by people living with dementia, the restaurant informed customers that their meals might not always match what they ordered.
Instead of focusing on perfect service, the project encouraged empathy, patience, and understanding.
Guests often left with more than a meal they gained a new perspective on dementia and the people living with it.
What began as a temporary pop-up in Tokyo became a globally recognized symbol of inclusion, proving that human connection matters more than perfection.
This duo wrote this for Whitney Houston after "How Will I Know" and "I Wanna Dance with Somebody." Belinda Carlisle recorded it but passed, so they released it themselves. It became a hit in '88. Do you remember it or who sang it?