A gold medal for democracy

I am an absolute fan of the olympic games and worship the general individual achievements of those athletes who with few resources, powered by mere passion,  each with their own story often characterised by the natural comparitive advantages their countries may have, be it snowy mountains, flat long distances, water and wind, whatever would have driven a young national to commence practising in her/his backyard to one day seek the stage amongst the world's best as the only reward.

It is exciting to observe the opening cerimonies over time, the long rows of soviet participants in the past or the one or two participants of some newly founded or liberated state, all coming together under a common banner, while honouring their own.

Prometheus and Heracles would be proud of each and every one of them.

A beautiful tradition that over time has managed to remain reasonably immune to modern political turmoil, in similar vein as the ancient olympiades sought temporary truces to allow athletes to participate.

I was once a proud owner of an authentic and offical "Athens 1996" t-shirt, free from any safeguard of the then still candidate status for the summer olympics.

At the time it would have appeared that only a formality stood in between the nomination of Athens as the obvious host city of the modern Olympic Games at their 100th anniversary.

Eventually it was Atlanta that was elected, and the 1996 Olympics would become the most private sponsered games ever to that date.  Critics would quickly convert the games into the CNN and Coca Cola games and that was not because Coca Cola Corporation was founded there also about 100 years ago. 

For the London 2012 games this has turned out quit different as private capital has come to abandon the race and funding needed to come, once again, from the city, country, in other words the general population.

A gold medal for democracy at its finest.

Planets and metaphors

A year ago I could still imagine that when a 100 years from now a person would browse a European history book the current crisis would show up in one maybe two pages amongst the long treaty road for a peaceful and prosperous continent, more and more in harmony with the entire world.

Gradually I am starting to envisage that it will the booming 80´s and 90´s that will cover the shortest of tales in historic timelines. A type of late revived belle epoque where we thought anything was unlimitedly possible and thus more something to be remembered in the bright areas of arts, fashion, design rather than grey enduring economics and finance.

This is no longer about lost teenagers who had to stay at home while mom and dad went partying.  Younger generations will, of course, be affected.   A different story is whether this is a bad or good thing but, either way, relevant enough to be a permanent part of the roots of whom is growing up today.

So I allowed into my home the recently released children's book "a crise explicada a crianças" about a bear, bees and honey but my youngsters were not impressed with my imitation of Portugal's finance minister's slow and comprehensive tone and prefer a Winnie the Pooh DVD instead.  Wonderful book for immature adults who welcome a bit of self-irony though.

So I allowed into my car a download of the latest music of Boss AC, a talented hop-hop rapper and one of those performers who finds the classical balance between chanting while challenging hot issues.  This particular song with an excellent tune for waking up on the road to school in the morning touches on bubbles that burst.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqlurzmr5nU

Now, for my son, who until recently the context of bubble would only arise when playing with soap or supermario, the moment had come to inquire whether the word bubble referred to the song's earlier referral to our round globe.  An excellent question to raise in the midst of morning innercity traffic and otherwise daily household logistics.

I believe I managed reasonably to compare the man artificially created free flowing and eventually uncontrollable bubble the song is about, with the type of not bad intended fantasy stories my son and his schoolmates invent every now and then to the extent that fantasy mixes into reality.  "Every now and then, adults like daddy, do the same, but then bigger and longer, but eventually they always burst". 

The perfect European

I remember back in the good old days when those many Brussels's non-food & beverage souvenir shops around the Grande Place fairly abruptly replaced the traditional Belgian lace and Louis XIV - baroque minatiures in their front line windows, with loads of China made European flagged merchandising, pretty much anything that allowed a random number of yellow shining stars printed on a blue background tradeable for only a couple of Belgian Franks.

With Germany united, the single market becoming casheable for businesses, the Schengen agreement celebrated by travellers and the easy accession by disciplined and modern Sweden, Austria and Finland, Brussels' road to the capital of Europe (and not just the European Union) had become inquestionable.  The ideal moment in time for a bit of innocent and harmless self-irony.

Internet and social networks were still a relative exclusivity and a popular item any tourist could easily lift on any streetcorner and proudly communicate to friends at any corner of the world was a sarcastic postcard on "the perfect European".

A funny cartoonized postcard illustrating a typical national of the then selective 15 member states, touching on cliché views much older than any United Europe dream. 

"Humorous as a German, Organised as a Greek, Humble as Spaniard, Available as a Belgian, Talkative as a Finn, Generous as a Dutchman, Sober as the Irish,Cooking like a Brit", etc.

I have not really been down to the Grand Place for quite a few years or bought a postcard anywhere for that matter, but I wonder how funny or festive any European, or any other person, would still think that postcard would be in today's context.

Especially in times of recession, the perfect European Unionist should be .... her/himself.

Mastering morality

One of my favourites in Confucius' dogma is the story wherein he compares the head of family, a doctor and a surgeon;

The father/family head is dedicated every day to avoid illness entering his home and thus secure health, stability and progress.  The father is known  and his daily contribution respected within the family and maybe a couple of neighbours.

The doctor of a village will regularly attend to the population to avoid deseases from worsening or spreading and his work is known and appreciated throughout the village.

A surgeon rushes to life or death situations and his interventions are renowned throughout an entire nation.

This was in ancient China where news could travel only as fast as a horsemen's thrive.  Confucius could not have predicted mass newspapers, television and thus also not youtubes and facebooks, but the idea still persists with most infamous people and places not seeking fame nor reward for their doings.  After all 1 billion registrants or subscribers, means at least 6 billion are not.

Throughout his lifetime Confucius will certainly not have been able to imagine a woman to represent any of these functions.

Although many people and especially those citizens in currently foreign financially aided or assisted countries may think of Angela Merkel as the imprudent physician who in an annoyingly surgical manner operates into countries most intimate vasculature I would have to hand it to her.

Whereas I understand the frustration of populations in Greece, Ireland, Spain and the like, Angela Merkel is possibly the only politician in Europe these days who holds onto the priorities and promises she committed to, insofar could be foreseen, before her electorate.  First the state budgets of each of the 16 bundeslanden, then the national finance plan for Germany and only then the ties to the 27 European Union Member States, among which the countries that share the same currency.

After all, Confucius' down to earth and humane philosophy in this story also dictates in a style of leading by example that one should first take care of one's family before catering to a wider community to ultimately arrive at some greater good for all.    

Maybe we all just need some of Confucius' wisdom ..... and pacience.