dresden

decades after the allies incinerated its inhabitants, another atrocity occurred in dresden: reconstruction. we visited this totally fake baroque city on our way to the czech pastures.

fleeing the reconstructed old town, we crossed the bridge and passed a group of angry protestors surrounded by police, screaming at the top of their lungs for a certain minority group to get out, out, OUT of germany. there was hate in their eyes and in their hysteria, and I felt that common fear one feels in the presence of angry fascist mobs. who did they want out of germany? the nazis! when did they want them out? now! i didn't even realise there were that many nazis left in deutschland...?

and then we reached the other side of the river and wandered up a street packed with nazis. everyone was selling hate-food and playing loud hate-techno with sub-sub-woofers that must have been screwed into the ground to make the pavement shake like it did. then at the end of the street was a park filled with drunken punks tattooed from head to toe, with the shit pierced out of every available and unavailable surface, crates of empty beer bottles littering the grass and hateful glares through hateful eyes. were they nazis or were they anti-nazis? were they extreme right or extreme left? all we knew is that we extremely wanted to get the fuck out of there.

We were left quietly pondering whether the city hadn’t been bombed 66 years too early…