One mess after another
The transitions are seamless, the timing is brilliant: symptoms of an epidemic have pushed crisis commentary and a few venomous (read: infected) people out of the headlines, along with billions in toxic securities. The main thing is that this latest media virus doesn’t mix money and blood—and thus conjure up the evil spirits of the past. Guest commentary by Oliver Classen, media spokesperson for the Berne Declaration.
In view of the anti-crisis babble broadcast from the Davos Giga Summit, it was complained here in February that the arsonists of the global economy had disguised themselves as firefighters. Now an even more resourceful spin doctor has apparently thought that fire must be fought with fire. In any case, swine flu has easily overtaken the banker pigs in the ranking of the greatest possible evil. The latest media virus is the epidemic of the crisis. Whereas in recent months there has been talk on all channels of toxic securities that need to be decontaminated, today every sombrero wearer is a potential messenger of death.
The metaphor of toxic money products confirmed all those who decorated their kitchen cupboards with Chief Seattle's prophecy in the 1980s: "Only when the last tree has been cleared, the last river poisoned, the last fish caught, will people realize that money cannot be eaten." True: derivatives have become toxic overnight and the cycle of money is in danger of dying of sepsis. However, when money and blood are mixed together - even if "only" linguistically - anti-Semitism is unfortunately still a virulent danger, as conservative anti-capitalism of the lower class TV target audience, so to speak. But at least: the fact that no one from the right-wing bourgeois camp has yet tried to score points with this ever-available reflex suggests a minimal learning effect since the last global economic crisis.
One side effect of swine fever that is probably not undesirable is a cross-generational feeling. Not all humans become brothers, but all humans become ill. At least potentially, and that's enough to make for moronic headlines such as "the epidemic is here" (Blick). What is undeniably there is an irresponsible lust for disaster, and not just in the tabloids. And this is bringing a society divided by bankers, bonuses and narrow-minded politicians closer together again. The prospect of millions of live deaths, shown in close-up on Flu TV (formerly CNN) and expertly commented on by its Chief Medical Correspondent, creates a pleasantly creepy feeling - and makes elected representatives around the world calculate how the death toll would affect their election chances.
There's no question about it: the pig is the ideal heraldic animal for the complex current human disaster (remember: before the financial crisis, there was already a climate crisis, a water crisis and a food crisis). The calves on spindly legs at the time of mad cow disease were perhaps something for empathetic Wes¬tern friends. And the dead swans on the island of Rügen at the premiere of Avian Influenza elicited tears of emotion from die-hard Lohengrin fans at best. But there's a little bit of pig in all of us. It's not for nothing that we're called lucky if we think we've got away with it again. Which this time remains to be seen. And agricultural lobbyists once advertised with a slogan that was sensational in its simplicity: "Pig must be - have a bite."
Fortunately, it seems unlikely that cervelat eaters and world travelers from Washington to Windhoek to Wettingen will soon have to bite the dust. Instead, everything will probably soon be back to normal: "bad bank" will become the bad word of the year, the barbecue season will be a huge success thanks to Mexican sausages and face masks will be all the rage at Carnival 2010. Otherwise, people will die as usual: from dirty water, malnutrition or AIDS, but above all in private.
The metaphor of toxic money products confirmed all those who decorated their kitchen cupboards with Chief Seattle's prophecy in the 1980s: "Only when the last tree has been cleared, the last river poisoned, the last fish caught, will people realize that money cannot be eaten." True: derivatives have become toxic overnight and the cycle of money is in danger of dying of sepsis. However, when money and blood are mixed together - even if "only" linguistically - anti-Semitism is unfortunately still a virulent danger, as conservative anti-capitalism of the lower class TV target audience, so to speak. But at least: the fact that no one from the right-wing bourgeois camp has yet tried to score points with this ever-available reflex suggests a minimal learning effect since the last global economic crisis.
One side effect of swine fever that is probably not undesirable is a cross-generational feeling. Not all humans become brothers, but all humans become ill. At least potentially, and that's enough to make for moronic headlines such as "the epidemic is here" (Blick). What is undeniably there is an irresponsible lust for disaster, and not just in the tabloids. And this is bringing a society divided by bankers, bonuses and narrow-minded politicians closer together again. The prospect of millions of live deaths, shown in close-up on Flu TV (formerly CNN) and expertly commented on by its Chief Medical Correspondent, creates a pleasantly creepy feeling - and makes elected representatives around the world calculate how the death toll would affect their election chances.
There's no question about it: the pig is the ideal heraldic animal for the complex current human disaster (remember: before the financial crisis, there was already a climate crisis, a water crisis and a food crisis). The calves on spindly legs at the time of mad cow disease were perhaps something for empathetic Wes¬tern friends. And the dead swans on the island of Rügen at the premiere of Avian Influenza elicited tears of emotion from die-hard Lohengrin fans at best. But there's a little bit of pig in all of us. It's not for nothing that we're called lucky if we think we've got away with it again. Which this time remains to be seen. And agricultural lobbyists once advertised with a slogan that was sensational in its simplicity: "Pig must be - have a bite."
Fortunately, it seems unlikely that cervelat eaters and world travelers from Washington to Windhoek to Wettingen will soon have to bite the dust. Instead, everything will probably soon be back to normal: "bad bank" will become the bad word of the year, the barbecue season will be a huge success thanks to Mexican sausages and face masks will be all the rage at Carnival 2010. Otherwise, people will die as usual: from dirty water, malnutrition or AIDS, but above all in private.
